The slasher subgenre has long held a complex relationship with women in horror—both onscreen and in the audience. Criticized for its misogynistic representation of women as passive victims, it has been simultaneously praised for its progressive portrayal of active, strong female heroines. In the 1960s, the emergence of the women’s movement in America was a symptom of second-wave feminism, which subsequently permeated the western world. This built upon the core values of first-wave feminism and the fight for gender equality in the early 1900s with seminal campaigns like the suffragette movement. Second-wave feminism extended the focus of this quest for equality—taking on the workplace, the family dynamic, and reproductive rights in regards to women’s bodies—and lasted well into the 1980s. Slumber Party Massacre (1982) serves as a brilliant illustration of what happens when the slasher meets second-wave feminism.
What has made Channel Zero so consistently appealing as a horror television show is that it represents a nexus in horror, a crossroads between horror past, present, and, arguably, future. It unites subgenres of horror like science-fiction horror (seasons two and four especially), with aspects of ghost stories, slasher films, surreal Lynchian horror, and psychological horror. Indeed, Channel Zero pulls all these subgenres into one strange package that would seem scattershot if not for its consistent visual aesthetic and commitment to exploring tricky emotional territory. For every moment that courts the bizarre, there’s a moment that refuses to shy away from the difficult edges of guilt, trust, or grief that defines that human element of the show. And in season four, subtitled Dream Door, the show doubles down on both of those aforementioned aspects: the plotline is the series’ most bizarre yet, revolving around a pair of newlyweds, Jillian and Tom, dealing with a killer contortionist clown who arrives soon after a rift opens up in their marriage. It is also the most emotionally driven season of Channel Zero. And it may well be the best.
Channel Zero’s first three episodes, in particular, constitute not only the most surreal slasher to have come along in years but probably the best as well. Though the pace still veers towards the slow-burn of prior seasons (the first act of violence doesn’t come until the very end of the first episode), episodes two and three maintain a wonderful sense of tension throughout, as the murderous Pretzel Jack (played by contortionist Troy James) comes after Tom and whoever else sets off Jillian’s emotions. That the psychic connection Jillian shares with Pretzel Jack slowly becomes obvious doesn’t lessen the impact of the impeccably crafted set pieces in the season, especially those in those first three episodes. A chase through a gym in episode three, in particular, may be the best set piece in the entire series run thus far. It certainly helps that Pretzel Jack is one of the best horror villains to come along in some time, recalling everything from Michael Myers to the Xenomorph to Pennywise. At the end of the day, though, he is remarkably distinct in a way that seems new even with all the aforementioned precedents. Read more
We are very pleased to bring you this exclusive chapter preview from the forthcoming House of Leaves publication, Scared Sacred: Idolatry, Religion and Worship in the Horror Film (out next year).
In this chapter, Samm Deighan explores the directorial work of William Peter Blatty (author of the 1971 novel The Exorcist) in The Ninth Configuration (1980) and The Exorcist III (1990).*
The chapter is previewed below, and we also want to urge you to consider supporting this indie horror endeavour. You can pre-order the book from House of Leaves Publishing’s website.
You can also check out a video trailer for Scared Sacred below.
Much has already been said about the connections between George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1960) and Jordan Peele’s Get Out (2017). Critics have so far, however, missed a vitally important thread between the two: they’re both zombie films.
Jordan Peele is pretty open about the connections between these two films. In an interview with the New York Times, he describes Night of the Living Dead as one of the major inspirations for Get Out, and traces a number of links between Night of the Living Dead’s protagonist, Ben (Duane Jones), and Get Out’s Chris (Daniel Kaluuya).
AMC’s The Walking Dead is back for its 9th season. We’re going to run a series of posts about the series that are distilled versions of the arguments of chapters in our edited collection, The Politics of Race, Gender and Sexuality in The Walking Dead, recently published by McFarland. This collection is not at all the last word –and we’d like to open up more conversations about all these things in the show, especially as the issues raised in the book–and the arguments that get made–change as The Walking Dead narrative continues. To that end, we’re inviting submissions to Horror Homeroom that enter into conversation with this series of posts taken from our book. How do these arguments play out in seasons 8 and 9? If we publish your submission, we’ll send you a free copy of the book.
The third post in the series is from Carter Soles and Kom Kunyosying . . . This is what they have to say: Read more











