Content warnings: mentions of sexual assault, discrimination
I will never forget the feeling of watching Obsession in theatres after its rise in popularity. I consider myself a fan of horror generally, but that film made me realize why.
It’s not just Obsession either. Video games like Silent Hill F or books like The Lamb by Lucy Rose are reminders of what horror is meant to be and represent. In my eyes, they are compelling and remarkable pieces in the genre, and in the medium in which they are conveyed. To further put it into perspective, horror as a genre tugs on anxieties that overwhelms a cultural collective. It transcends time and space in the same way your mother, and your mother’s mother, were likely wracked with how our dominant culture treats them.
Horror as a genre has always centered women and the expectations to perform as a woman. Whether this is done to enforce gender in a means that is harmful or not is highly dependent on whose biases are pushed into that particular piece. I think we owe our analysis foremost to the final girls in horror media; there are complicated aspects of the trope, but at the same time, considered a symbol of the genre. The archetype first emerged in the 1960s, corresponding with the second-wave feminist movement. Was it inherently feminist is questionable, but it has since pioneered important discussion and theory around the genre.
It, as mentioned, is simultaneously seen as reconstructivist and reductive. It is important to highlight that there are starkly problematic aspects of the trope—the final girl is portrayed as virtuously sexless, and lives as a symbol of purity. With media being a large microcosm of our world, we understand even this as a reflection of our culture which leans concurrently patriarchal and puritan by default. She is often padded with ‘boyish traits’ (essentialist much), but only because the “hyperfeminine” woman is frivolous and shallow. To survive, one must subvert their sexuality. So… problematic.
On the other hand, especially in a media packed with action and dread, it is comforting to see a woman survive and persist despite the horrors. It’s a slippery slope, because that survival surrounds a nearly inane amount of trauma, and the question of if that survival will ever provide respite, or if death will be solace. But that in itself is a feature of the genre. Dread. Harrowing, dark endings… Good endings and horror do not often go together anyway. It is still gratifying to see a sliver of freedom even if it’s blanketed by horror.
As campy and fun as a lot of older horror is in spite of these tropes, I do enjoy contemporary horror. As aforementioned, I am a champion of video games like Silent Hill F. It caught a lot of flack for being both a new narrative entry in the franchise, given it had to fill the shoes of its incredible predecessor (Silent Hill 2 – Remake), but also because the story followed a female protagonist (ironic, because… Silent Hill 3, which came out way back when, followed Heather’s story.) They truly do not often depict the turmoil of growing up and experiencing life as a teenage/young adult girl. But I believe that this game resonated with me especially because it does. Many aspects of horror are embedded in the objects associated with femininity in our culture.
The story, spoilers aside, centers on the fear of changing in a world with strict standards on growing up. It features objects like comic books and lighthearted games you play with friends, and how there’s twists–how gendered norms and constraints become the focus. You play as a young girl trying to tear herself away from a cycle of abuse and submission. She actively resists being groomed into the ideal woman by her culture, and society. The game also does so by introducing intersectionality, exploring the existing overlap in identity-based oppression. Not only is it a study of the monstrous feminine and the fears of change in our subject, but the player is exposed to dialogue on how these norms can be further enforced depending on one’s culture, ethnic belonging, and financial insecurity. This is why I firmly believe in it being an upstanding piece of art in its medium.
Playing through that around the time I had also watched Obsession fundamentally shifted my views on horror, and understand how it understands me. It brought me down an iceberg, particularly Barbara Creed’s theory of the Monstrous Feminine. She speaks on a good majority of societies viewing women–particularly those who deviate from the again, very essentialist understanding of the ideal woman–as abject and horrific. Horror continues to play on the monstrous feminine as a trope, paralleling the final girl, and in cases like Silent Hill F—being the final girl.
Another example of the overlap in the monstrous woman and the final girl is Obsession. Nikki’s infatuation with Bear is brought on by a wish, breathed into the world without consent. There is an overarching allegory for the loss of autonomy that is hard to miss unless you watch the film with your eyes closed. She becomes a subject of abjection via her loss of control in her life. It was stylistically conveyed, and the genre allows the audience to feel every extent of her dread. To exist under a constant threat of being caged in such a way is a fear etched into many women.
It is the nuanced portrayal of Nikki that perplexed many individuals and spurred a discourse like I have never seen. I am speaking of those who somehow believe Bear wasn’t in the wrong for his actions. That very discourse is functionally similar to real and serious situations, wherein a man manages to garner sympathy in spite of horrific actions committed against a woman.
As I argued from the get go, the media is a microcosm of our world. Such media discourse exists with the context of real world events. It is strikingly relevant when we consider why sexual assault is the only violent crime which hasn’t seen a decrease in its long term in Canada. It’s rooted in collective biases that get projected onto survivors, and biases that need to be confronted.
Horror is a genre that is versatile, and has been known to center women and the experience of performing gender. It is a genre which holds nuances I champion, especially when it comes to individual or collective anxieties. As a genre, it continues to understand women.