Body horror: Freedom in the grotesque
Body horror is the broadest horror genre that I can think of that I can say is my favorite. As I touched on in my last post, all horror is body horror to an extent, but I mean something very specific here.
This kind of horror literally stretches the human body to fantastical limits. Films that first come to mind when I think of this subgenre are The Thing and The Fly, with a more recent example being The Substance.1 The horror comes from the fact that even your own body can become unknowable.
The connection to being trans is pretty obvious here, I think. Puberty is its own kind of body horror when it's not the puberty you want. But merely having a body is body horror, even if you're cis. I guess this is a more familiar idea to those who have a chronic illness or another kind of physical disability, but I think it's true for everyone to an extent, especially as we age: our bodies betray us constantly, and they have never been fully knowable.
Like any horror trope, it has good examples and bad examples. Body horror films are particularly susceptible to trying to shock the audience with the mere appearance of disfigured, disabled, or old bodies, which just sucks. Horror in general has had an awful track record with that. Body horror at its best allows you to relate to the characters experiencing it, giving you catharsis for the pain and fear you experience within your own body.
For that reason, I find body horror to be quite a freeing genre. It paradoxically reminds us that while our bodies may limit us, our bodies themselves are not limited in their forms. Body horror provides a space for the unbound imagination of ourselves: bound neither by the typical human form nor by societal ideals. In my last post I talked about how horror being unmarketable is a big part of why it's great. Exactly that. It provides a space for joyfully embracing the grotesque, something which I think is sorely needed in an age where it seems like everything must appear pretty and polished.
My body has felt like an oppressive force my whole life. It was something that I anticipated having to fight for as long as I lived, in order to be seen as myself. This was not only for gender reasons but for my weight as well. To have a body, it seemed, was to constantly be on guard against a mirror and against others' gazes, to constantly be fighting your own outline. The only way to be accepted and safe was to be pretty.
And while I think that last sentiment will always be true, to an extent (we live in a society), that also means that the ability to imagine otherwise will always be revolutionary. Those beings onscreen that we call monsters are simultaneously burdened and freed by being grotesque. They are unable to comply with beauty standards and are therefore faced with a choice: attempt the futile or pave the way for a new kind of existence. That feels familiar to a lot of us. I know it does to me.
Recommendations
Here's the less serious part of the post, where I recommend my favorite movie(s) in the genre I'm talking about. Just a warning, my preferences lean towards the silly side.
First up is Freaked (1993). I'd describe it as edgy 90's slapstick with a shitton of monster makeup. There are certainly parts that have aged poorly, but it's surprisingly not aged as poorly as other comedies, especially if you're used to edgy humor. I chalk that up to most of its comedy being absurdist or slapstick, which is just always funny. It's a cult classic for a reason. I often force my friends to watch it when my birthday comes around.
Here's a scene from it if you're curious. Yes, that is Alex Winter and Keanu Reeves (of Bill and Ted fame).
My second recommendation is a bit more serious, but I found it because of Freaked: it's called Society (1989). I tried to find the interview with Screaming Mad George (look him up if you don't know about him. He's awesome) that lead me to it, but it might have been taken off of YouTube. Basically, he worked on the prosthetics in both movies, and probably on several other movies you know.
I will give the disclaimer that the only time I saw Society, I was drunk, but I do plan on watching it sober one day. It's slow for a long while, as it's a bit of a mystery/psychological thriller, but the last 15-30 minutes of chaos are worth the wait. The director let Screaming Mad George go ham. It's somehow both disgusting and beautiful at the same time.
Notes
I genuinely have no clue why they're all named like that. Convention, I guess?↩