A Decade of Watching the Horrors of Being a Woman on Film
A Halloween tradition? Or my way of sublimating my rage in the Trump era?
It didn’t start intentionally. There was no careful planning or rigorous brainstorming. Halloween of 2015 began like any others: with me absolutely bristling at the idea of thinking of a costume I could never pull off, to attend an elbow-to-elbow party of cringe adults trying to be too witty for their own good, only to go home and fall asleep to the sounds of a drunk man calling his gilfriend a cunt. I don’t have an exact tally of how many times this has happened on All Hallow’s Eve, but I have multiple memories of the same cherry-on-top. A drunk man calling his girlfriend a cunt. Or a slut. Or a total bitch who always ruins a good time.
I hate Halloween. I do like film.
In 2015, I refused to go out. I was no longer depressed by my yearlong marital separation which was slowly making its way into divorce court. I was, however, rattled by how so much of my life had been contorted and malformed by my status as a woman. My marriage had been a series of daily, ho-hum, sexist humiliations that can wear you down, the kind that are now being turned into New York Times bestsellers because they are that common. I was severely underpaid at a corporate job and no amount of leaning in or flat-out asking for a raise had manifested into an actual raise. I was once brought into a conference room and scolded for not having a sunny disposition, though.
I was one year away from stepping into the dating scene, where I soon learned I had to filter men for their politics ASAP, lest I spend another evening being told by men who looked straight out of a Goebbels casting call that a Hillary presidency would be just as terrible for me—a Latina, immigrant divorcee—as a Trump one. Never mind that I had experienced civil war and a dictatorship, that I came from a family who had always been involved in politics, that I studied political science in undergrad, and made it a major focus of my PhD studies. They knew more. And better. I was a newcomer to this, like all those other pussy-hat wearing women at the march. (“Those cunts,” I can imagine them saying under their breath.)
By the way, this was in Chicago and most of those men identified as progressive.
It’s not like I had been under the impression that we lived in a carefree world of gender equality before my marriage crumbled. I was also never one to think of the United States as a panacea for all my ills or as a paradise for its citizens (never mind the rest of the world). But I was surprised to realize it wasn’t that much better than my Lima reality when it came to gender. It was simply different. More hidden. More insidious. Sure, American men won’t call you a slut to your face for sleeping with them on the first date. But they might ghost and then categorize you as a stage-five clinger if you text them a few days later to say hi.
I don’t know what I prefer.
Back to 2015. Instead of downing Malort at some divey Logan Square bar with a half-assed costume, I decided to stay home and watch a scary movie. I had read rave reviews about A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night. It was a twist on vampires, my favorite supernatural creatures. (It’s the horniness.) Something about it being Persian, maybe? Black and white obviously meant artsy-fartsy. I had a delightful time.
In 2016, I was nursing my first big heartbreak post-divorce and wanted to nuke my toxic workplace. I stayed in and watched The Babadook.
In 2017, I realized I liked boycotting Halloween by staying in and watching a scary movie. Horror isn’t my usual go-to genre, though. Gore bores me, the idea of violence for the sake of violence disinterests me, and I have little patience for franchises. But a story involving psychological tension and a bit of social commentary? That I can get behind. I chose It Follows.
And thus began my Halloween tradition of watching a scary movie about the horrors of being a woman. For the past decade, this was the only part of the holiday I was excited about. I set up a few parameters for it after I realized it was becoming “my thing”. In addition to the subject matter, I had to watch it alone and at home. It also had to be a movie that was ,released in the past five years of whatever year I happened to be in. I wanted to know what anxieties we were grappling with NOW, not in the slasher 80s.
Looking over my list, the anxiety I was grappling with was clear: The Trump Era, starting with his demonic descent on that gold escalator in 2015 and continuing until today. Every single movie explains the mindfuck torture chamber women have been submitted to since that Orange Buffoon, his loyal sycophants and his rabid, angry, extremely aggro masses have overwhelmed our political lives, our pop culture commentary, our social interactions, and even Al Gore’s Internet.
Here’s a rundown of the movies I watched and the specific angst it was tapping into. (Spoiler alert because I’m writing this on Election Day and I do not have the kind of neural capacity to be careful with my language and/or content):
2015: A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night
The movie that launched, um, nine more movies also includes the best depiction of sexual tension ever recorded on screen. But that’s not the point! This is a movie where the gender roles are supposedly swapped, since the scary thing lurking in the shadows, ready to attack, is a young woman on a skateboard instead of the neighborhood exhibitionist ready to flash. I say supposedly because this strange, semi-Western vampire film does not portray men as victims. Every single man that the Girl kills is himself a killer, sexual predator or abuser. And their victims are all people they know. You know why? Because statistically speaking, that’s who you should fear. It’s truly why I’m not scared when I walk home alone at night. 2015 was when all those “good” men started becoming seduced by the Trump-mania of it all too, whether as fanatics or as the Bros that would later chide women for being silly about our abortion rights being taken away.
2016: The Babadook
By far the scariest of the bunch. I specifically remember telling a pregnant friend at the time to stay away from watching it until her baby turned 18. Most people see this as a movie about grief, and there’s no denying that plays a major theme. But I saw it as a movie about the nightmare of raising a child without the village, which is the two-parent-family-with-no-government-support scheme set up in the USA right now. This was the year I fully came out as not wanting kids.
2017: It Follows
What is scarier than an STD? A supernatural STD! This is an interesting movie because it doesn’t allow for easy analysis. On the one hand, you will be punished if you have sex. On the other hand, the only way to keep death at bay is by having sex. Existential! Regardless, the shame and fear of the consequences of your action won’t let you just be a lighthearted floozy.
2018: The Witch
What happens when you take the puritanical dreams of letting a God-fearing man be the head of household, sole breadwinner, bootstrapper extraordinaire? Well, you get one dead kid, a mom’s breast being gnawed by a crow, a terrifying black goat, and your teen daughter joining a coven of naked witches ANYWAY.
2019: MIDSOMMAR
Where to begin? A lesson in never overstaying in a toxic relationship. A master class on why you should avoid grad students at all costs. A whole-ass syllabus on how bad boyfriends will destroy you and themselves. But beyond the gender-relations-are-fraught-meme generator there is an understanding here that the intellectual urbanites keep condescending to insular rural folk at our own peril.
2020: La Llorona
Immigrants got you down? Boohoo. Ever wondered why their “expletive countries” as Trump so politely called them are so troubled? Could US intervention have anything to do with it? Shoulder shrug! Who’s to say! It’s not like there’s a whole mountain of evidence about how the US propped up some of the most violent and depraved regimes in Central America. And in the same way that the US is reeling from a civil war that occurred about 160ish years ago, countries like Guatemala are still reeling from a civil war that occurred oh about 40 years ago. La Llorona focuses on the senseless cruelty of war, of wars enacted specifically to oppress the indigenous bodies of a land, all in the name of safety and national interest. Safety for who?
2021: Relic
The weakest film of the bunch and, perhaps, the most intimate one. This is a movie that tackles the frustration and sadness of seeing a parent whither away before your eyes, knowing that there is no way to stop time from turning your loved one to dust. It is an Australian film, a country that I’m going to assume has a better social safety for elderly care than the US because every developed country in the world has a better social safety net than the US. (But hey, Aussies, if I’m wrong, let me know!) Still, I think this movie hits at the emotional anguish of today’s Sandwich Generation, whic is dealing with immense financial and emotional stress to care for elderly relatives in a world where health care is sky high, nursing homes are limited, and WE HAVE NO VILLAGE.
2022: Watcher
This is a movie about how the world convinces women that they are overreacting and trains them not to listen to their gut, even though women are always right. I’m going to leave it at that.
2023: Barbarian
Another movie with multiple angles I could highlight. Like how the abrupt break in the middle is a clever way of demonstrating the differences between how women navigate the world and how men do. Or how this is a movie that is at least partly about white flight, neighborhood divestment, and burgeoning gentrification. But, today, I’m going to emphasize this: THE POLICE DO NOT HELP. POLICING DOES NOT HELP.
2024: Immaculate
The official post Roe v. Wade movie—religious piety gone wrong, privileging the life of a fetus over a woman, the manipulation of science to control bodies, and forced births.
And that is it! I’ve decided to put an end to this tradition after a whole decade. Next year, I’ll begin a new theme. The horrors of being a minority in the US? The horrors of living in the Global South? The horrors of heterosexual marriage? The possibilities are endless.
And to the naysayers who will smugly point out that we were under a Biden administration from 2021-2024: It doesn’t matter. We are still living in a world that the Trump administration left behind. THIS IS THE THIRD ELECTION SEASON WHERE I HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS FARTBAG OF A HUMAN. Today, we might be able to put an end to it. Or at least the beginning of the end. Not because I think that Kamala winning will heal all wounds, moving us to join hands in bipartisan kumbaya. But because the man is old, and maybe he’ll finally reach his natural end, and we can rant and rave about another power-hungry idiot.
Homework
I’m sending this so late on Election Day (lol), but please vote. Check when your polling location closes. If you are in line before it does, they have to let you vote. And because I literally don’t know anyone who votes who isn’t also extremely aware that there is so much work do be done after today, think of how else you can get involved. For Chicago peeps, my friend Lindsay made this amazing resource called Beyond November.
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