It’s Women in Horror Month and we’re taking on Amy Holden Jones’ The Slumber Party Massacre (1982). Both adored and reviled, this cult classic consistently divides audiences. Is it feminist? Is it exploitative? Can it be both?
Today the Horror Homeroom crew is weighing in on those questions as well as asking whether death by a 12-inch drill can ever be anything other than phallic.
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.
From what I’d read before going in to David Gordon Green’s Halloween (2018), I was expecting a portrait of the deep and lasting effects of grief and trauma. The film chooses to ignore all the sequels to John Carpenter’s 1978 original and picks up the story of Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) many years later, after two failed marriages, a daughter (now estranged), and a granddaughter. Instead of a complex study in the lingering after-effects of trauma, however, Green’s Halloween gives us simple, unalloyed rage. A fitting Halloween, perhaps, for our own anger-filled post-Trump moment.
Johannes Roberts’ The Strangers: Prey at Night is a travesty for anyone who watched and loved the outstanding 2008 film, The Strangers, directed by Bryan Bertino. I discuss Bertino’s Strangers here. It’s a brilliant horror film in the pure, enigmatic malevolence of the “strangers,” the simplicity of the plot, and the absolute terror induced by the way the strangers emerge silently into the frame, inside the home they shouldn’t be in. Strangers: Prey at Night is the opposite of all that. Which isn’t to say that, as a film in its own right, it doesn’t have some redeeming qualities.
Ask anyone who grew up watching Little House on the Prairie what is the most traumatizing image they recollect from the show’s run and you’re likely to get a surprisingly wide array of answers. From Caroline almost taking a knife to her leg while in the throes of a fevered infection to Alice screaming and trying in vain to shatter glass as she and baby Adam burned in a fire, the show contains more than a few moments that call into question its cultural legacy of family friendliness. These moments aside, however, the show never delved into explicitly horror territory until its seventh season when a two-part episode entitled “Sylvia” leveraged the genre’s tropes to completely rewrite audience expectation. Read more
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