Horror Movies are SO Gay!

I remember the first horror movie I ever watched. I was 8 years old, and as my mother and I were channel surfing, we came across her favorite, The Others. The spooky ghost tale left me scared; I checked every room before I walked in and made sure all my lights stayed on—I even brought my nightlight back out—but I was hooked.

 As I grew up, the genre remained one of my favorites. I’d never say no to a horror movie night. I felt a connection to it: the monsters in the closet, the outcast, the “other,” the dual identities of the possessed, and even the “final girl” as she persevered through the tribulations of the film. But I always wondered to myself, “Why?”

Then I realized I had my own monster in the closet; I was the outcasted other. I struggled to balance my dual identities. And I, like many before me, was persevering through these tribulations. I am what all these movies are truly about. I am gay.

I met more queer people, and I came to realize I was not alone. Queer people and their identities have a long history of being demonized and erased. Oftentimes, they have been seen as monstrous sinners, forced to hide in the shadows from public perception.

“I watch a horror movie almost every night before bed,” says Nicholas Rutter. “I have been watching them since I was a little kid; something about them brings me a weird sense of comfort.”

The horror genre in film and literature is something that the LGBTQ+ community has always felt very connected to. Many have even deemed Halloween “Gay Christmas” with the strong ties to the genre, as well as the opportunity to be as expressive as you want during the holiday. Some may not understand why queer people have such a connection to the genre, with many seeing spooky monsters and killers on the surface level. What they do not understand, though, is the characterization and themes in the genre that make it inherently queer.

The queerness of the horror genre can go back to Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley’s literary works in the 19th century, both of whom are rumored to be queer themselves.

“I remember even reading [Frankenstein] in high school,” explains Rutter. “I related to the way that he was ostracized and labeled a monster when he didn’t even choose the life he had.”

 The genre made its way to the big screen in the 1930s, thanks to James Whale and his partner, David Lewis. The couple’s most notable work, 1931’s Frankenstein, depicts a living “monster” created without procreation, being called an abomination by the public. Frankenstein’s monster was ostracized, feared, and deemed exactly that: a monster.

In this film and many of their other works, Whale and Lewis directed these movies based on their own experiences as queer people themselves. They humanized these characters that were otherwise seen as villainous monsters. They utilized the genre to bring sympathy to those who have been ostracized and deemed “the other.”

“They were paving the way for queer stories to be told,” Brooke Feenie, a musician and college student at Temple University, shares. “They just had to cover it up in the genre because being gay back then was a no-go.”

Queer people can watch films like this and reflect on the shared experiences of marginalization and resilience, leading to a deeper connection to be made. This paved the way for the genre to be a symbol of the LGBTQIA+ community’s ability to confront the prejudices and rejection from society and find empowerment in their survival through it.

Survival itself is a key plot point of any horror film. From slashers to possessions, the end goal is merely to survive. It wouldn’t be an interesting movie, though, if everyone survived. Thus, the creation of the “Final Character.”

 A trope used in many horror films, primarily these slasher flicks, the “Final Character” is someone at the forefront of the story who faces the film's terrors, ultimately defeating them. The character is usually an outcast themselves, further reflecting the queer experience.

“I always thought they were badass,” Vnyx, a local drag queen, shares. “These girls who were seen as the underdog and more often ostracized, and here they are, overcoming all this adversity and b******t in the movie. It’s inspiring. I could see myself in that.”

Feenie shared similar sentiments towards the trope: “There is something that makes me feel seen. I don’t know. If they can power through and make it out of it against all odds, then so can I. I want to be the final girl.”

 Yes, these cisgender, straight “Final Girls” can be very empowering to the queer community, but there have been very few queer final characters in the history of the genre.

Most notable of the queer “Final Characters” was Jesse, of Jack Sholder’s Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985).

Source: IMDB

 Jesse, played by Mark Patton, was at the time closeted. In the killer sequel, Freddy visits Jesse in his dreams, ultimately using them to manipulate him into doing Freddy’s dirty work.

As Freddy uses Jesse more, he grows out of hetero-normative behaviors. He is disgusted by a kiss from his love interest, Lisa, and finds solace in his (often shirtless) best friend, Grady.

Jesse is the only one in this film to dream of Freddy and even fight him in his dream. Jesse is fighting an inner demon, one that makes him more feminine. It isn’t until a kiss from Lisa frees him from this curse, making him return to “normal.”

There is a clear gay subtext throughout this entire film, and it is further exacerbated by the fact that he is this film’s “Final Character,” a trope that is typically reserved for women. It further showcases the struggle he is facing in the film with his gender and sexuality.

Queer characters have been in horror films for a very long time, though usually they would be killed quickly, with no real depth to the character.

“More often than not, queer people were just the butt of a joke or a quick kill. There was no depth. No real representation,” explains Feenie, “If not, queer identities were used against us, making us look like monsters. I mean, look at Psycho or The Silence of the Lambs.”

Psycho and The Silence of the Lambs are prime examples of how queer identities, namely transgender individuals, were painted to be monstrous. The antagonists of the films dress as women while committing horrific crimes. It makes a statement that trans people are perpetrators of crimes when they are more often the victims.

Despite these sentiments, Vnyx reminds us that there has been some fun representation in the genre.

“Look at Rocky Horror. This bisexual drag queen alien is looking to make their ideal man and just going at it with these newlyweds,” they say. “Something about that is just so iconic. The whole movie is just so camp and queer. It’s easy to look at all those bad tropes and be reminded that there is some good stuff out there.”

The campy cult classic has been held in high regard amongst the queer community. It symbolizes the embracing of sexuality and the liberation that comes from it.

“I never watched [Rocky Horror Picture Show] until recently,” Rutter explains, “but something about it was really touching. Obviously, it is campy as f**k, which is fun, but the way it kind of showed me that I am allowed to fully embrace my sexuality and who I am. I think it helps me a lot with my drag.” Rutter is also known as the New York drag queen Ambroja Zwaan.

The horror genre provides a different kind of representation for queer people, and some, like local drag queen Vnyx, have allowed for its impact to shine through their art.

“Horror is a major part of my drag aesthetic,” they say. “I am the demon dominatrix of New York. The genre is so clear in my look, my makeup, and even my mixes. Without horror, I would not be the performer I am.”

Queerness can be seen throughout the century-long history of the horror movie genre. These films highlight queer experiences through their protagonists and antagonists alike, showcasing the strength, resilience, and power that the queer community holds. It is something that the community holds on to inspire them to keep fighting and keep surviving.