A Screenscope Guest Entry by Tara
Horror movies are often utilised to showcase the most depraved parts of human nature with the intention of eliciting a strong reaction from its viewer. However, it also takes advantage of the abject.
Abject: the phenomenon of being so disgusted but also enamoured by something – to be so repulsed and also so attracted to something.
Examples of things that cause said feelings are: Bodily fluids (i.e. blood, vomit, excretions) and corpses. Kristeva (who coined abjection) credits the term to our innate self-repulsion of the inner workings of our bodies – our raw anatomy which she calls the ‘other’. Our other-self reminds us of our human fragility and mortality. An example I am certain at least one person reading this is a victim of is pimple popping videos! You are disgusted but also can’t look away.
Similarly, fascination with things such as true crime can be attached to abjection. Not just because of the mutilation, blood and corpses in true crime but also because it exhibits (although some may say flaunt) the darker, taboo side of human behaviour. In Kristeva’s own words abjection is ‘what disturbs identity, system, order. What does not respect borders, positions, rules.’
Can one not equate abjection to the feminine experience? Many writers including Kristeva discuss the intersection between the abject and feminine bodies. Naturally ejecting blood as a feminine bodily function and giving birth (a bodily fluid and human flesh extravaganza), the abject is therefore inescapable for women. Women’s reproductive and sexual health has been rejected and underdeveloped for centuries. Not to mention the inherent disgust and shame (due to societal and religious expectations) surrounding periods, birth and feminine sexuality. The feminine body is often ‘tied’ to the state and is bound by laws, prohibitions and status. Simultaneously the feminine body is ogled at in all states, often at the expense of their humanity.
This transcends media, but some horror/thriller movies have been heavily criticised for including particularly long scenes of violence against women. ‘Martyrs’ (2008) and ‘Irréversible’ (2002) come to mind immediately with both being known for their extensively realistic portrayals of sexual and physical violence. It begs the question of whether such scenes actually add anything to the film or are a mere exhibition of the fascination with the feminine body and subjecting it to harm, which is largely done by male directors. This could be through extreme and violent pornography. Can abjection ever be used as a tool for illustrating the feminine experience?
This is where femme horror comes in. Femme horror is horror with a female lead which is characterised but not defined by her femininity, thus putting it into two categories – the horrors tied to femininity and horrors experienced as a woman. I do not categorise films where women are deliberately fetishised and objectified for their bodies under the guise of femme horror. What separates the two is intention. Femme horror is to educate and portray, while the latter focuses on eroticisation of feminine bodies.
As the feminine body has such a close relationship to the abject, femme horror is a form of media I believe really encapsulates the lived feelings and experiences of your everyday woman. Albeit in an exaggerated form, it tackles more taboo topics such as repressed sexuality and the quest towards perfection that can lead to self-harm, among other things. This is the art of femme horror.
Here are examples of media that I believe are gems in the genre AND are directed by women:
Picture sourced from Screen Musings
- ‘Helter Skelter’ (2012) – Mika Nikagawa
The film follows Lilico’s desperate attempt to remain number one as she succumbs to madness. At the pinnacle of her career as a top model, she starts to experience side effects from her many surgeries, like produce her body begins to rot. But what this film does so well is highlight the futile and eroding journey towards feminine beauty. Embracing unhealthy and harmful methods, Lillico simply views her body as a vessel to showcase her beauty and rejects any other meaning to her existence. Due to this mentality, she abuses and uses those around her, believing she has the right to do so. As a newer and younger model comes along, it is clear how easily one can be replaced, how one’s physical body can literally ‘expire’ in the eyes of others despite all effort. The decay quickly spreads, as her work relies on her physical image, so does her self-worth. Using our feelings of abject Nikagawa highlights both the disgusting and ‘alluring’ sides of achieving feminine perfection.
Picture sourced from FILMGRAB
- ‘RAW ‘ (2016) – Julia Ducournau
RAW is a coming-of-age body horror, centring around Justine’s transformation from an innocent vegetarian to a flesh-eating deviant. As she enters vet school, her cannibalistic and sexual urges surface and blur, often going hand in hand. Becoming a threat to the one she develops feelings for, it is unclear whether she can tell the difference between the gratification of eating human flesh and sexual ‘relief’. The abject is used by Ducournau to illustrate ‘atypical’ depictions of feminine sexuality. Often repressed amongst young women, the film remains realistic despite its use of cannibalism.
Picture sourced from Slant Magazine
- ‘Brand New Cherry Flavour’ (2021) – Arkasha Stevenson & Gandja Monteiro
Brand New Cherry Flavour is actually a mini-series. A female filmmaker is duped by an older role model of hers, believing he can take advantage of her due to her youth and gender. In her quest for revenge, she puts her body through unimaginable things. Just like our lead in Helter Skelter, her body is collateral for success. I specifically enjoyed the use of the abject in this series as it directly correlates to the experience of women in film. Directed by two women, they use the abject nature of the show to illustrate how rejected yet fetishised women are in the industry, with feminine representation being very regulated by masculine agenda. You do not succeed without sacrificing (or birthing) something.
The horror on the screen is equal parts relatable and gratifying. It forces the audience to reflect on the horror of the feminine experience in real life. Considering the screen industry is extremely male dominated, for women to take the reins and expose the female experience in this form is empowering and enjoyable, allowing for a much more personalised viewing experience for women.
I would highly recommend.