Right and Wrong Women's Horrors

 

Right and Wrong Women's Horrors

by Kristin Battestella

Be she a grandmother, mom-to-be, or everything in between, these contemporary films represent the good, bad, and ugly when it comes to women in horror.

Decent!

The Manor – Ballerinas and birthday parties lead to distorted echoes and stroke scares in this 2021 Blumhouse/Amazon production written and directed by Axelle Carolyn (Tales of Halloween). Silver haired vixen Barbara Hershey (Beaches) doesn't want her family to see her diminish so she enters a grand historic home living facility where staff repeatedly ask if she is okay – ready to take care of everything even though she can handle the basics herself. Judith doesn't want to make crafts and be the fourth for bridge, but she has to accept that age slowly prevents you from doing what you love. Her grandson wants to take care of her at home, but no cell phone policies and hysterical roommates acerbate the arguing between the generations. Doctors discuss her treatment with her daughter only and tell Judith she is being dramatic about early dementia delusions. Thunderstorms, eerie dreams, foggy grounds, and dead birds accent the failing mind worry on top of fears of being watched in the night and manhandling orderlies. Compared to the usual monster in your face roars and unreliable fake outs, intriguing use of light and dark reveals the fragile struggle on what is real or perceived as well as the gnarly incubus a la The Nightmare giving or draining vitality. Family turns on its elders as the mother becomes the child, bound and drugged supposedly for her own good in a sadly realistic but pleasing to see ageism commentary. Even Judith jokes about diets, face lifts, and bathing in the blood of virgins, and she has a rebellious streak – wearing edgy graphic t-shirts, sneaking out, and not swallowing pills when she's forcibly returned. When not spotting wormwood in the garden and inquiring about absinthe or stashing a flask, Judith reminisces about smoking weed and dancing around the bonfire with her late husband. Unfortunately, crows and effigies under the bed escalate to creepy last words and lists of the dead as the freaky encounters move quickly. The realization that something is afoot doesn't underestimate the audience amid missing evidence and calendar clues. There's no time wasting rituals or elaborate explanations – just hair clippings, chilling chants, temptations, and sacrifices in the full blown horror finale. Why not end the suffering of the barely existing oldsters so you can dance under the moonlight? Granted, there are numerous genre cliches and obvious twists, but this taut eighty-two minutes expedites the realistic horror parallels, unique setting, and mature performances.

Had the Potential.

The Unborn – Wedding day tragedies and interracial lesbians fearing they're pregnant with a demon baby open this 2022 Tubi original. Onscreen gestation countdowns, ultrasounds, and heartbeats accent celebratory reveals before nosebleeds, nausea, jokes about not drinking or eating sushi, and nosy friends wanting to know how it all worked. Although her mother-in-law says it is a blessing, an ominous image on the sonogram slowly divides the couple. Our wife is inconsiderate and dismissive, belittling with what I should have said deflections and that's not what I meant strain rather than support. Check ups citing mere hormones or stress semantics and fetishizing men acerbate ghostly voices, scary eyes, automatic writing, Lilith mentions, and freaky accidents. Mom-to-be resents her obligation to carry because her wife is the breadwinner but pretends she freaked out over nothing during therapy. Jugular jabs and quality blood provide fine horror vignettes, but police inquiries force one to explain what we just saw in condensing, patronizing padding. Viewers can clearly tell this was written by a man – maybe even originally as a heterosexual couple – as the haggard horror of how tough pregnancy can be is never fully felt and a ridiculously monotone, overlong YouTube documentary spells out the Lilith connections for the audience rather than the person in peril. Halfway thru this ninety-four minutes, stereotypical psychics reiterate what the video just said, jumping the shark as the audience easily predicts the erroneous cops, exorcist jokes, and useless psychiatric holds. Trips to the cult ranch lead to laughably unrealistic twists and men tutting at the angry Black lesbian's foul language before she hits the culprit with their SUV and makes her pregnant wife run to the getaway car. The spirit passing from the womb incites unnecessary shootouts and interrogations tell us about what we just saw again with the satanic cult meaty also told rather than seen. Having a monster-esque transformation on top of the pregnancy changes may have been fine body horror, but all the Lilith hear tell remains just that. The masculine bad cop and his submissive Asian partner have an unexplored latent subtext amid their utterly pointless plot, and the Black family who had the faith to combat this demon influence completely disappears. Obviously suspicious creepers, kidnappings, and ghostly convenience begat contractions sending the possessions in and out and a mother strapped to a table who's supposed to deliver a baby on her own. Back and forth screams upon screams keep going and going before a five months later revived cult coda and direct looks at the camera. Derivative genre cliches and redundant detours hold the unique characterizations and real world women's horrors at arms length, and any diversity or provocative reproduction fears descend into the totally routine.

I Turned it Off!

The Victim – Michael Biehn (Aliens) stars, writes, and directs this 2011 eighty minute grindhouse tale co-starring his wife Jennifer Blanc (Havenhurst) and Danielle Harris (Halloween). Despite the rape and revenge summary, I was excited for the genre names attached. Unfortunately, this opens with herky jerky strobe credits and barely discernible newspaper headlines with no sense of context. You have to pause to even see anything clearly, and then the picture proper opens with sexy sounds and from behind roughness. It's initially unclear whether this is consensual or not, and the scene goes on for several disturbing minutes. After that, there's a ridiculously long driving montage, and with such a frustratingly bad start, I turned this off ten minutes into the movie. I expected horror favorites, not to be disappointed and immediately put off by every horror wrong. 

It wasn't planned, but it's fascinating how this trio all has “The” titles as if that is the only way we checkbox identify women – one at home, a breeder, and a victim. Hmph.