Editorials
The Ferocity and Necessity of Shapeshifting with ‘Perpetrator’ (2023)
Sometimes, we need to shift our shape in order to fully embody our true form. Shifting lies at the core of our survival. It invites us to dive way down into the very blood that courses through our veins, tuning into the primal elements within the memories of our cells.
Echoes reverberate from the past, screaming and gnashing their way to the surface – all too eager to deliver the sheer force of life we can become when we embrace that which we’ve been burying in the darkness.
When we choose to face and embrace what makes us whole, the entire world tells us that our truth is exactly what makes us wrong. Makes us unacceptable.
Makes us monsters, even.
In Jennifer Reeder’s 2023 bloodbath battle cry, Perpetrator, Jonquil “Jonny” Baptiste is a teenager just trying to survive in dire circumstances.
Resorting to theft to support herself and her deadbeat father, Jonny’s left wondering where her mother disappeared to – a mother she’s never met. As Jean Baptiste says, “Young women disappear all the time. It’s not that uncommon.”
She’s just… gone, leaving Jonny with more questions than answers, not just about her mother, but about herself.
As Jonny approaches her 18th birthday, she’s shipped off to stay with her Aunt Hildie – a family member she’s never met. Special family, who will guide Jonny through a world of primordial becoming and ancestral reclamation; of shapeshifting – with the help of a birthday cake containing a deep, decadent, crimson filling.
The cake holds “fuel for the fury,” to help usher Jonny along her newfound path – a path nothing could have prepared her for, but a path she must follow, nonetheless.
“I call it Forevering,” Hildie tells her. “It’s profound spectral empathy. You are one in a long line. We are proxies, surrogates, mimics, mirrors. We turn, we fake. We follow, we bend. We shift, we shape. We tune way in.”
This shift… this transformation catapults Jonny into the throes of madness, ferociousness, hysteria, and mania. An almost hallucinogenic trance thrusts her into an animalistic state, one that is terrifying and mystifying and fascinating.
“A kind of possession in reverse. We are women feeling all the feelings,” says Hildie, ruminating on the bottomless well of possibility this becoming bestows upon the women of their bloodline.
A bloodline roaring with centuries of power, persecution, fear, ferocity, of shifting back or forward – elevated to a being of intuition and instinct; to fascination, fluidity and wonder. To neither here nor there, but something totally unique. Something special. Something powerful. Something ferocious. Something magnificent.
Sometimes, accepting our own uniqueness and power can lead to miraculous things. Sometimes, just being ourselves can inspire others to do the same.
Sometimes, being ourselves can save lives.
When we tune way in, it’s a song only blood can sing that we hear. It’s our pulse, reverberating through our hearts and heads. It’s the chthonic river running through us, informing us. Because the blood is the key. Blood in the cake, blood in the toilet, blood flowing and pooling and taking shape, creating a portal that invites Jonny in to plumb the depths of the specters that lie in the deep.
A girl, screaming, lost. One from a group of teenage girls who has gone missing recently, all from the private school that Jonny is now attending – the same school where Aunt Hildie was once a student.
A school led by an eccentric male principal who is obsessed with training the girls how to fight- how to hide – because there’s danger all around them, and even though it seems bad, it can get so, so much worse.
“Escape. Evade. Engage. Most of you are going to die today.”
If Jonny decided to turn away from her gifts, from her new super powers, things may have gotten worse – but she chose herself. She chose to get curious, to be present, to flex her new sense of awareness and reach down and out, watching her face take on the face of one of the missing girls; watching that girl’s eyes shine through hers; listening, as that girl’s voice spoke through her lips.
She exercised her sensitivity and empathy to shift in order to find the lost teenagers. And with the help of her new girlfriend, Elektra, she is able to uncover the one common denominator between all of her kidnapped classmates – the guy who plays all the sports. The guy who’s a good kisser. The guy who all the girls had been with before they were taken. Kirk.
By becoming one of Kirk’s “girls,” she places herself in the crosshairs of the perpetrator.
Male domination; male aggression; male desperation – this is what Jonny awakens to in the lair of the beast.
A mask and apron obscure a grown man who is siphoning Jonny’s blood – the power, the life – into his own body.
When she rejects him, he becomes unbridled, spewing incel rants and knocking Jonny unconscious. She awakens in the room where he’s been keeping the girls everyone is looking for.
Once again, Jonny summons the blood, and once again, a portal is created. A place where she could find protection and support – an ally. The perpetrator couldn’t resist the allure of this bubbling pool, and he was immediately pulled, shoved, and kicked down into the thick abyss.
The abyss that held him long enough for Jonny and her classmates to make their escape. The abyss that held eons of pain and punishment and ostracization, all fueling its fire as it freed Jonny and her friends from the grips of one in a long line of sadistic madmen.
Jonny and the girls were under attack for being who and what they were. They were under attack by someone who felt so weak and less than just by being in their presence. They were under attack by someone who was threatened by their very essence – their very truth.
In the end, Aunt Hildie gathered those girls together for a very special cake, inviting them into a lineage of community, protection, and solidarity; of shifting from one state to another. A space where they could listen, learn, grow, explore and empower each other, together.
Shapeshifters have existed since the dawn of time. It’s a birthright that’s been stripped through denial, persecution and oppression in the name of patriarchy, conformity and rigidity.
Reclaiming this state of being is a sovereign cry of preservation and protection – of belonging and community in whatever way that looks and feels right to any one of us. As the Summer Solstice approaches, allow this culmination of life – this shift from dormant to verdant – to inspire you.
The earth is transforming, coming into, and feeling itself. Nature takes its own cues and abides by its own rules. It knows itself.
It survives by being exactly what it is – nothing more, nothing less. It accepts its ancient strengths and wisdom and knowledge. It feeds its thrumming pulse, the very same pulse that feeds and fuels us.
The earth shifts with the seasons, shedding and emerging over and over again. We, too, shift. We shed. We emerge. We create new skin to hold us through each season, and are free to change. Free to be. Free to own ourselves and our inherent radiance and ferocity in any shape or form they take. That’s for us to decide, because this is a lifelong road we’re all traveling.
There will always be pressures to ignore our intuition, to doubt ourselves, to either blend or isolate in the name of acceptance – of survival. But by honoring those parts of ourselves that others protest, we’re building our intuition. We’re building self-belief.
We foster taking up space and being seen. We create acceptance where there was once none. By choosing ourselves, over and over and over again, we become more like Jonny; we become more like Aunt Hildie. We become more like ourselves, and that’s the strongest, most powerful, most beautiful creature we could ever be.
You can stream Perpetrator now on Shudder!
Editorials
Why ‘The Changeling’ Is a Better Horror Movie Than Stephen King’s ‘The Shining’
I know The Shining is aesthetically pleasing and has a cast many of us would have killed to work with. I am also painfully aware that it holds a special place on Nostalgia Avenue in many fan’s hearts. However, I wish The Changeling got some of that attention and fanfare. I find it much more engaging, human, and chilling while utilizing some of the same thematic elements. I know I am sadly an outlier here. I will have to settle for this being one of the few times I agree with Stephen King about something. So, it is a wildly random party of two, but it is a party nonetheless.
As a kid who loved horror movies, one of the things I learned fast is that some movies are sacred. As an adult who gets paid for being a nerd, I have learned that there are usually movies in the same wheelhouse of sacred films that will land better with certain individuals. This is why I am here in what I hope is a safe space to discuss what I have discovered is a hot take.
I stand before you, ready to explain why I like The Changeling more than The Shining. Allow me to elaborate on my opinion that has probably caused a few people to scream into the empty abyss.
Please also allow me to remind you that your experience with these films is still your experience. I do not know you well enough, nor do I care enough to fight with you as if opinions are facts. That being said, let us unpack why I prefer The Changeling!
My History With Both Movies
The Shining is an iconic part of many horror fan’s journeys. Whether we like it, hate it, or are indifferent, many of us have childhood stories about it. We also cannot deny it has an aesthetic appeal on top of being blessed to have Jack Nicholson, Shelley Duvall, and Scatman Crothers in the cast. This title is so woven into required scary movie viewing that it was one of the few Stephen King adaptations I saw before reading the novel as a kid. When I saw King’s name on something I did not like, I figured I was broken and rewatched it a few times. So, I felt very vindicated later in life when I found out the author himself had issues with this adaptation. Not only can he be found on record explaining his feelings about it (in quite a few places, but the YouTube interviews are some of my favorites), but he also wrote a miniseries adaptation to get something closer to his novel. When I finally read the book, I felt like all of the missing pieces to the puzzle had been found and wished more of them had made it onscreen. His book is actually the best of all three versions of this story, and it gives the character of Jack Torrance so much more depth than what was afforded him in Kubrick’s version.
Speaking of depth, I discovered The Changeling about four years ago after a friend recommended it. I had no idea what it was about, nor that my weird little brain would draw comparisons between it and The Shining. While watching John Russell (George C. Scott) wander around a big haunted house as he grieved his family, lightbulbs kept going off in my head. At this point, I had read The Shining and saw the more nuanced version of Jack that had layers. So, watching this and seeing a version of a dad going through a difficult time in a haunted house was just the beginning of the parallels. I get that grief and alcoholism are very different kinds of isolating journeys. I also understand that both movies are bigger conversations than sad dads who are haunted. However, it is hard to ignore the similarities when you know both movies came out months apart and do stumble into some of the same thematic elements.
Jack and John Go Up A Hill
Off the bat, the Torrances are reactionary instead of proactive. Things happen, and then they eventually do something about it. Even Jack’s willing collaboration with the evil spirits took forever. Although he was on board and seemingly waiting for a reason to kill his family. This script issue is part of why The Shining sometimes feels like a slog. It is always more exciting to give actors things to do. It also allows their characters to move through a story with a purpose.
Meanwhile, The Changeling gives us John, a man whose wallowing is interrupted by a mystery that gives him a reason to get out of bed. He is not passive as he investigates this ghost and tries to get to the bottom of its story. When he finds out a kid was murdered, he channels his sadness into trying to get justice for this boy who died decades ago. This is more interesting to watch as an audience member and gives the actor something to sink his teeth into. While you will never catch me slandering the acting abilities of Shelley Duvall or Jack Nicholson, the script did not help them. I would argue they succeeded despite the lack of characterization. George C. Scott was given a role that allowed him to show a range of emotions. He played a man who did things instead of waiting for things to happen to him. Comparatively speaking, it is the difference between having one crayon and having the deluxe box with the built-in crayon sharpener. Maybe Wendy and Jack were written that way to further paint a bleak and cold portrait. However, whenever I revisit The Shining, I wish both of them had been given more because we know they could play more than one thing for almost three hours.
I sincerely believe the cast of The Shining did everything they could with what they were given. Their performances are one of the things I will always defend about this movie, but Jack was a very one-dimensional character. As a kid, I had to cut off contact with my alcoholic grandmother and then had to do the same to the closest thing to a friend I thought had who turned out to be an addict. I also have a huge distrust of dads because my dad was an asshole. However, even as a child, with all of that going on, I knew Jack and his recovery journey deserved better. He is written and directed to be menacing from the second we meet him. There is no struggle with the big evil so much as an almost instant partnership. This is an uninteresting avenue to take that makes the actor work harder. I am fine disliking a character, and I usually prefer it. However, when written as a flatline, it makes it hard to understand their purpose. By Jack being annoyed and pissed at his family for the whole film, it cuts off any humanity and leaves us wondering why we care. After all, he has nothing to lose if we never see him give a shit about them.
Meanwhile, John is a man who genuinely loved his tiny family. In the mere seconds we saw them together, we could tell they were his whole reason for being. Seeing him attempt to fight his way out of the phone booth, knowing it is already too late, tells us this is a different kind of father than Jack. This is further highlighted as we spend the entirety of The Changeling with him mourning his wife and daughter. We see him riding the rollercoaster of grief, which makes him want to help the ghost kid, Joseph, who lives in his home. Where previous people failed, he is practically running to save this young spirit and to maybe ease his survivor’s guilt as he could not save his daughter. I think this is also fascinating because so much media depicts fathers as absent, assholes, and angry. Again, while I have my own father issues, it is nice to see something different every once in a while. It also gives Scott so much more to play with as an actor and also underscores the thematic elements of the film. This is probably one of the reasons my brain keeps comparing The Changeling to The Shining.
Found Places And Haunted Spaces
One of the things I do like about The Shining is the aesthetic. I am obsessed with Wendy’s wardrobe. However, it is the retro patterns found in the hotel decor that always catch my eye. The Overlook carpet has become so iconic that it is still used for merch today. This large empty evil hotel is a sight to behold but comes across as cold and sterile. We also see cool shots like the camera following Danny (Danny Lloyd) and his tricycle through the large hallways. Sadly, these shots lose their luster as they get repeated a few too many times. I think it is to convey how huge the space was and how isolated the family was while giving a sense of danger. I know that works for most people, but the repetitive nature is one of the things that makes me squirm in my seat. The same goes for the empty space where Jack sets up his office. While it is nice to show the physical and mental distance Wendy has to travel to him in these moments, it is also cold, and we live in these moments for way too long each time.
That is not the case in John’s new haunted house. Do not get me wrong, this space is bigger than it needs to be for one sad man to roam around. However, it is used to show how isolated and alone he is through no fault of his own. Where Jack was a menace even before the spirits gave him an axe to grind, John lost his wife and daughter through a series of unfortunate events. Their deaths were sudden and left him to navigate the world with drastically different circumstances than he anticipated. So, the echo of the red ball bouncing down the stairs is haunting for many reasons. The mysterious banging of the pipes underscoring his gentle crying lands so hard because he is truly alone in the world. Where there should be the noise of his daughter and his wife, there is the heavy weight of their absence. The palpable silence is filled only by Joseph trying to reach this new stranger. John is not hiding away in a room with two other people on the property to annoy him with their love. John’s house feels cold, but not for the same reasons as The Overlook. It is that way because he is still struggling to find his path back to becoming a person. He is also sharing the space with a ghost whose father murdered him and moved on.
It is interesting that while Jack attempts to kill his family in The Shining, John moves into a house where a father drowned his helpless son. Unlike Jack, this man did it out of greed. That is especially interesting because John misses his daughter so much he struggles to be in the world without her. He is nothing like the man who used to live in his home or Jack, who seems upset he has a family. He is a third kind of dad who would trade so much for what the other two took for granted. Again, the weird connective tissue between these movies is so fascinating that it is now hard to think of one without the other. Much like the ghosts that haunt our protagonists, they haunt each other once you spend time with both films.
I Will Let Stephen King Have The Last Word
I mentioned at the top of this article that I agree with Stephen King’s original assessment of Kubrick’s version of The Shining. However, I discovered last year that he and I share a love of The Changeling. In 2017, The British Film Institute celebrated the author with King On Screen. As part of the festivities, King was asked to choose movies he loved to screen as part of the tribute. One of the movies Uncle Stephen chose was The Changeling, and he explained:
“For supernatural horror, I like Peter Medak’s film The Changeling, starring George C. Scott in perhaps his last great screen role. There are no monsters bursting from chests; just a child’s ball bouncing down a flight of stairs was enough to scare the daylights out of me.” –The British Film Institute
King has seemingly thawed toward Kubrick’s version of The Shining over the decades. However, I find it interesting he chose Medak’s haunting film, which came out in the same year. I also noted that King On Screen was ten years after the miniseries he wrote, stylized as Stephen King’s The Shining aired. This could all totally be a huge coincidence. After all, The Changeling is a great film that just happened to also come out in 1980. I have also seen enough of Uncle Stephen’s recommendations to know this movie is right up his alley. However, even if that is the case, I feel this might also be a new level of professional pettiness to which I aspire.
I know The Shining is aesthetically pleasing and has a cast many of us would have killed to work with. I am also painfully aware that it holds a special place on Nostalgia Avenue in many fan’s hearts. However, I wish The Changeling got some of that attention and fanfare. I find it much more engaging, human, and chilling while utilizing some of the same thematic elements. I know I am sadly an outlier here. I will have to settle for this being one of the few times I agree with Stephen King about something. So, it is a wildly random party of two, but it is a party nonetheless.
For more information on the lore behind The Shining, check out our Horror 101 article here!
Editorials
Gatekeeping in Gateway Horror: Why We Need to Reevaluate What the Subgenre Means
Gateway horror holds a nostalgic space in the horror enthusiast’s heart. Many of us fixated on the genre as children, irrespective of whether the films we viewed scarred us for life. The subgenre of gateway horror (or children’s horror) is recognized as films targeted at younger audiences with frightening elements that do not cross the boundaries of suitability. Films that usually represent this subgenre include Hocus Pocus (1993), Gremlins (1984), Frankenweenie (2012), and others.
Unfortunately, most of these narratives focus primarily on white male children from middle-class neighborhoods (Lester, 2022). In ReFocus: The Films of Wes Craven, children’s horror scholar Catherine Lester highlights how children of different ethnic backgrounds are often featured as secondary characters and suggests adult-rated horror films such as The People Under the Stairs (1991) or Eve’s Bayou (1997) are more inclusive for Black children who love horror, through being represented on-screen.
I will further expand on this concept, i.e., gateway horror should not be defined by age ratings. We should look at the type of horror children create; what films resonate within their circles and listen to their opinions on what kinds of creepy stories they crave.
Gateway horror holds a nostalgic space in the horror enthusiast’s heart. Many of us fixated on the genre as children, irrespective of whether the films we viewed scarred us for life. The subgenre of gateway horror (or children’s horror) is recognized as films targeted at younger audiences with frightening elements that do not cross the boundaries of suitability. Films that usually represent this subgenre include Hocus Pocus (1993), Gremlins (1984), Frankenweenie (2012), and others.
Unfortunately, most of these narratives focus primarily on white male children from middle-class neighborhoods (Lester, 2022). In ReFocus: The Films of Wes Craven, children’s horror scholar Catherine Lester highlights how children of different ethnic backgrounds are often featured as secondary characters and suggests adult-rated horror films such as The People Under the Stairs (1991) or Eve’s Bayou (1997) are more inclusive for Black children who love horror, through being represented on-screen.
I will further expand on this concept, i.e., gateway horror should not be defined by age ratings. We should look at the type of horror children create; what films resonate within their circles and listen to their opinions on what kinds of creepy stories they crave.
Horror by Children, For Children
Thanks to TikTok and YouTube, the visibility of child filmmakers creating their own horror shorts has grown. Some even pursue it professionally, beyond the confines of their homes.
A young director making waves in the industry is transgender filmmaker Alice Maio Mackay, who has been called “The self-aware Gen Z Ed Wood we deserve” by critic Juan Barquin. She conceived her first feature, So Vam (2021), at age 15 but already cut her teeth directing shorts since age 11. While Mackay does not position herself as a “horror filmmaker for children”, her work in directing as a child makes her work a groundbreaking contribution to gateway horror. Queerness in the subgenre is scarce, though ParaNorman (2012) has been praised for featuring Mitch as the first openly gay character in an animated film.
Another filmmaker is Emily Hagins, who directed the zombie film Pathogen (2006) at 12 years old, going on to receive a Vinegar Syndrome release in 2022. In Zombie Girl: The Movie (2009), the behind-the-scenes process of Pathogen is captured as we see how she led a team of adults and children to bring her first feature to life. The documentary shows how self-aware she is as a filmmaker, noting she chose the zombie genre due to the conventions it must follow.
There are other child horror filmmakers whose films can be seen in festivals or competitions, creating opportunities for young people to express themselves. Renegade Film Festival has a “Best Gen Z Film” category, and Killer Shorts has opened submissions for horror writers under 18. We can look to the horror child creator as a guide, as well as seek out their opinions on horror as audience members.
Beyond the PG-13 Rating
When my niece was 12 years old, we recorded an episode of the Kindergeist Podcast, which discussed whether horror was appropriate for children. She expressed that Bird Box (2018) should be PG-13. When I mentioned death by suicide may be too intense for young viewers, she added:
“My generation, which is Gen Z obviously, we get introduced to social media and things at a very young age. So I learned about suicide when I was in fourth grade, okay? Which is a very young age to process. So that’s why I feel like it shouldn’t be rated-R probably, because I’m so used to seeing suicide everywhere.”
Salem Horror Fest founder Kay Lynch’s list of “queer friendly horror for children” on Letterboxd reveals how she sees the value in including R-rated films, because most embraced gateway horror films can be restrictive to the diversity of childhood experiences. Similarly, 14 year old CommonSense reviewer named GlytchedWatchesMovies wrote that I Saw The TV Glow (2024) should be accessible to 11 year olds and above, but the film has been rated 15 in the UK and PG-13 in the US.
The contrast between children’s and adults’ opinions surrounding film ratings is fascinating. In the US, the Classification and Ratings Administration (CARA) board is made up of a group of parents (with children aged 5-17) who help families decide what they can view together. However, at times it may feel adults claim that their restrictions “keep the children in mind” when in many cases, there is a desire to “control what the children have in mind.”
Children, Speak Now
Osgood Perkins is a director who is challenging the standard of gateway horror. In his retelling of the Grimm fairy tale Gretel & Hansel (2020), he approached the film’s intensity with the understanding that gateway horror tends to undermine the intelligence of young people. In an interview with Bloody Disgusting, he unpacks pushing against the norm:
“Where’s Gremlins today? Where’s the thing for kids that’s just slightly too freaky that just sort of trusts kids to be able to take care of themselves and to be able to emerge out from the other side and there’s just not a lot of those. So yes, the idea was always to honor the younger audience.”
Rated PG-13, Gretel & Hansel is an excellent example of a gateway horror film that does not shy away from crafting a dark and sophisticated storyline. Others include Jordan Peele’s Monkeypaw Productions, with their release of Henry Selick’s stop-motion Wendell & Wild (2022), which centers around a Black girl grieving the loss of her parents, and features a cast of Asian, Brown and transgender characters. In portrayals of neurodivergence, Come Play (2020) has been praised as a “horror movie that gets autism right”, showing a nonverbal 8-year-old on the autism spectrum.
While gateway horror is cherished, it is still an underserviced niche that is very cisgender, white, and heavily influenced by the perspectives of adults. There is still a lot of work to be done in creating a more inclusive and realistically diverse portrayal of childhood in gateway horror, but one thing is for sure – without the children’s involvement, we will not be getting anywhere.
References
Ponce, Z. and Pajarillo, X. (2021) 1: Is Horror Appropriate for Kids? Kindergeist [Podcast]. 24 September. Available at: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/kindergeist-podcast/episodes/1-Is-Horror-Appropriate-for-Kids-e17rmst
Thurman, T. ” Osgood Perkins on Making ‘Gretel & Hansel’ a Horror Movie for a Younger Audience.” Bloody Disgusting, 31 Jan. 2020, https://bloody-disgusting.com/interviews/3602756/interview-oz-perkins-gretel-hansel/
Waddell, Calum. ReFocus: The Films of Wes Craven, Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2023. https://doi.org/10.1515/9781399507028