Men, Women, and Chain Saws

Rating:
Summary: Take that, Andrea Dworkin...
Review: ...and all other "feminists" who think a work of art/entertainment featuring violence and women is automatically violently anti-woman. This is the book you want in your corner when someone (sometimes male, too) starts gassing off about how those bad, bad horror films demean women. Um, I would say a schlockfest like "Hanging Up" or "You've Got Mail" demeans women a hell of a lot more than your average slasher film that doesn't star Meg Ryan.

Carol Clover makes the convincing point that most of the better-known slasher films are narratives of women empowering themselves over a (usually male) antagonist. In this respect, the much-reviled "I Spit on Your Grave" could be seen as the forerunner of "Thelma & Louise." I have to admit for the record that I'm not a fan of "I Spit on Your Grave," which I feel is ineptly made and contains far more grossness than it absolutely needs to make its point (rape = bad; violence = bad); Clover, however, devotes an entire appreciative chapter to it, which indicates she's seen it numerous times and thought about it at length, which at least is better than the usual knee-jerk hatred of it you tend to see. It's refreshing and fascinating to find a woman defending -- at length -- a film many of us had thought to be indefensibly misogynistic.

Not the only academic defense of drive-in cinema, but one of the best-known, and probably the best -- after eight years, it's still in print in an affordable mass-market paperback, which should tell you something. Namely, it should tell you to buy it if you're at all interested in horror movies and what makes them tick. Horror movies don't have to be GUILTY pleasures!

Rating:
Summary: Insightful, diverse in scope and even entertaining.
Review: Clover has a way of incorporating politics into her aesthetic analyses (something most scholars cannot balance properly, preferring to favour one over the other). The book never considers itself above B-list cultural artefacts like the underrated, unjustly condemned Meir Zarchi work I Spit on Your Grave, and John Carpenter's Halloween.

Rating:
Summary: Take that, Andrea Dworkin...
Review: Horror films have always been one of my guilty pleasures, but it's not until I read this book that I truly started to understand the inner workings of fright flicks-- and of film in general.

When people find out this is a "feminist critique", they immediately think "politically correct man bashing". Nothing is further from the truth. The author seems genuinely more interested in understanding horror and its audience tham in making any kind of political point. She even raises the stakes in the discussion when she, for example, equates the Oscar-winning "The Accused" with "I Spit On Your Grave", noting that they are high and low forms of the exact same story.

The lit-crit jargon can be daunting to those unfamiliar with film analysis, but stick with it. The insights in this book will color your appreciation for all movies.

Rating:
Summary: She just does not get horror movies, that's all.
Review: I bought this book hoping to read a balanced and insightful analysis of gender in horror. What I got was the same trite "analysis" that seems so fashionable today. This book is profoundly feminist, in a very offensive sort of way. I am terribly sorry, but the author really needs more than a few months' worth of watching horror (see her own admission on p.19) and more than rudemintary understanding of pop psychology, to make a compelling case.

Briefly, her "analysis" of the female in modern horror slasher movies goes like this. Clover begins with the observation that most of these (American) films concentrate on the abuse, victimization, and triumph of a woman. The author then asks (i) why a woman and (ii) why do mostly male viewers watch these films. Her interpretation is that the "Final Girl" in these movies is really a male! It seems that in Clover's world, most males are homosexual, or at least bisexual, and they seem to have some bizarre beating fantasies. Because showing a male in this position would be uncomfortable for the male viewers (it would expose their forbidden fantasies too close for comfort), an unfemale female is substituted.

Clover simply misses several very simple things, which leads her to the mental acrobatics necessary to account for the phenomenon. Why does she dismiss the directors when they say that having a woman suffer is essential to horror? I don't know, but it is obvious that (i) out culture regards men as active, that is, when men are victimized, there's little sympathy for them---we expect them to react, strike back, and die in the attempt---which means that if you want emotions in the audience, you better go after a girl; (ii) our society focuses on female beauty much more than male beauty---from an aesthetical perspective, destroying something beautiful is much more painful; (iii) the reason why The Final Girl is not too feminine is because these horror films are American---one characteristic trait of this culture is the belief that the outcast, the underdog, can succeed through his/her own efforts---that's why the main character is seen as an outcast; (iv) the basic plot of these films is a variation on the ancient myths of the hero---someone who goes through incredible ordeals, and wins against all odds---this sort of story, however, is mostly attractive to males, which is why you don't tend to see many women at these films. This is a brief synopsis of a larger argument where every step is substantiated, but it illustrates why Clover's view is plain wrong.

It would have been helpful if she had viewed some European or Japanese horror films: she would have found out that many of the features characteristic of US films are simply missing. It would have been helpful if she did not regard horror as low art (she does, her posturing to the contrary notwithstanding). It would have been better if she avoided the turgid prose common to texts where the author either has little to say or tries to disguise wrong ideas.

Finally, Clover completely misses an important consequence of horror being made idependently of Hollywood. It's not just that it can cater shamelessly to the most exploitative taste (which some do), but low-budget cinema is a more accurate reflection of trends in contemporary society. While Hollywood produces slick and ultimately empty movies, B-flicks incorporate things the way the authors see them---the Final Girl in horror is nothing less than an acknowledgment of the achievements of gender equality. There are now female heroines (much more resourceful than the bungling males in these movies) and they triumph over adversity, and against the onslaught of maniacal males. This seems like a good statement of the fact that our society has come to accept women in roles that traditionally were not available to them.

Rating:
Summary: She just does not get horror movies, that's all.
Review: I bought this book hoping to read a balanced and insightful analysis of gender in horror. What I got was the same trite "analysis" that seems so fashionable today. This book is profoundly feminist, in a very offensive sort of way. I am terribly sorry, but the author really needs more than a few months' worth of watching horror (see her own admission on p.19) and more than rudemintary understanding of pop psychology, to make a compelling case.

Briefly, her "analysis" of the female in modern horror slasher movies goes like this. Clover begins with the observation that most of these (American) films concentrate on the abuse, victimization, and triumph of a woman. The author then asks (i) why a woman and (ii) why do mostly male viewers watch these films. Her interpretation is that the "Final Girl" in these movies is really a male! It seems that in Clover's world, most males are homosexual, or at least bisexual, and they seem to have some bizarre beating fantasies. Because showing a male in this position would be uncomfortable for the male viewers (it would expose their forbidden fantasies too close for comfort), an unfemale female is substituted.

Clover simply misses several very simple things, which leads her to the mental acrobatics necessary to account for the phenomenon. Why does she dismiss the directors when they say that having a woman suffer is essential to horror? I don't know, but it is obvious that (i) out culture regards men as active, that is, when men are victimized, there's little sympathy for them---we expect them to react, strike back, and die in the attempt---which means that if you want emotions in the audience, you better go after a girl; (ii) our society focuses on female beauty much more than male beauty---from an aesthetical perspective, destroying something beautiful is much more painful; (iii) the reason why The Final Girl is not too feminine is because these horror films are American---one characteristic trait of this culture is the belief that the outcast, the underdog, can succeed through his/her own efforts---that's why the main character is seen as an outcast; (iv) the basic plot of these films is a variation on the ancient myths of the hero---someone who goes through incredible ordeals, and wins against all odds---this sort of story, however, is mostly attractive to males, which is why you don't tend to see many women at these films. This is a brief synopsis of a larger argument where every step is substantiated, but it illustrates why Clover's view is plain wrong.

It would have been helpful if she had viewed some European or Japanese horror films: she would have found out that many of the features characteristic of US films are simply missing. It would have been helpful if she did not regard horror as low art (she does, her posturing to the contrary notwithstanding). It would have been better if she avoided the turgid prose common to texts where the author either has little to say or tries to disguise wrong ideas.

Finally, Clover completely misses an important consequence of horror being made idependently of Hollywood. It's not just that it can cater shamelessly to the most exploitative taste (which some do), but low-budget cinema is a more accurate reflection of trends in contemporary society. While Hollywood produces slick and ultimately empty movies, B-flicks incorporate things the way the authors see them---the Final Girl in horror is nothing less than an acknowledgment of the achievements of gender equality. There are now female heroines (much more resourceful than the bungling males in these movies) and they triumph over adversity, and against the onslaught of maniacal males. This seems like a good statement of the fact that our society has come to accept women in roles that traditionally were not available to them.

Rating:
Summary: Thank You Harris Ross and Chris Straughen
Review: I was lucky to have a film teacher recommend this book to me. It articulated a view that I have long held- that audience members identify with victims, not killers, in horror films. Although alot of the writing depends on existing psych and film theory, I found the book very accessible as she explained relevant past theories succinctly and in a way that even a novice like me could understand. This book is not just for academics and should be required reading for horror fans. "Andrew says check it out."

Rating:
Summary: Slumming academics
Review: It's amazing that horror films, of all the genres, have undergone such 'serious' analysis in the academic film studies arena. It tells you a lot--considered to be a kind of low art form, it attracts serious scholars who, rather than applying common sense or rational thinking, literally invent whole vocabularies to disguise their utter lack of knowledge and general cluelessness with regards to these staples of 'pop' culture for the 'little people'.

It's classic academic constructs. It's obvious that Clover, and she's not alone, is either incapable or unwilling to just say what she means. Instead, and in order for a university press to pick these things up, the ideas have to be draped in dense, unreadable, and often laughable language.

Are there interesting ideas here? Yes, certainly. Are they easy to understand? They can be, but not here. You may feel like a moron after reading about your favorite slasher, but don't worry--you haven't been exposed to the careerism and isolation of the cinematic ivory tower yet.

The book can be half as long if they tried to make it accessible to the people who actually WATCH horror films, but it is instead geared toward people who want to study the people who watch horror films, from a detached perspective, armed with a dictionary and a black turtleneck.

I would actually recommend this book for horror fans, but with reservations. It does try to get at what is happening in this genre, and why we watch these movies. But don't feel bad if you laugh at some of it--that's part of the real world.

Rating:
Summary: One-sex theory? Anal birth?
Review: Really doesn't sound like the beginnings of a discussion of horror films. The language used in this book is so far over my head that I begin to feel stupid, and that what I thought I knew about movies (which is more than most people I know) must certainly not be enough to even be allowed to watch them. What's disappointing is that I want to agree with the theories in the book. Clover's premise is that watching horror movies is not a sadistic act, and that the young men who watch them are really identifying with the female victim-hero, instead of just gawking at boobies. I like the idea that the viewer identifies with the monster and the victim. But I don't think the author can really identify with... humanity! The word 'psychobabble' does come to mind. It makes me wonder what she's hiding from, or who she's trying to impress. I don't think she has any grasp at all of these films or why I watch so many of them.

It just seems to me like this woman has put every word she knows into a theory I think I can sum up in less than fifty pages. Sentences don't need to be that long to get a point across.

To sum up, if you are a horror film fan with an IQ of 160 or less, do not read this book! It was written for high-brow, academic types who are fascinated by the rituals and habits of us lower creatures, but wouldn't be caught dead in a theatre with less than eighteen screens. However, if you are a high-brow, academic type who is fascinated by the rituals and habits of us lower creatures, but wouldn't be caught dead in a theatre with less than eighteen screens, you might like it.

Rating:
Summary: Good in spite of itself
Review: The author is obviously an academic, and seeks to dignify her pop-culture subject with ludicrous rhetorical tropes borrowed from the grad school version of pop psychoanalysis. She says "gender" when she means sex. She is capable of writing phrases like "the killer's phallic purpose. . ." and sentences like "What -is- clear is that where there is -Wiederholungszwang- there is historical suffering --- suffering that has been more or less sexualized as 'erotogenic masochism.'" Clarity, it seems, ain't what it used to be. Charlatans like Gilles Deleuze and hatemongers like Susan Brownmiller appear in the bibliography, and the book is obviously addressed to an audience that has not yet learned to laugh at them.

Still, the central thesis of the book is in fact a cogent analysis of the ritual of the 1980s variety "slasher" film, and if you overlook the bogus jargon she gets it mostly right. The book convincingly goes through the rituals involved in this highly stereotypical variety of film. Even the vaguely radical academic version of sexual politics has some purpose in this: these slasher films, like all accepted exercises in gore and the temporary suspension of tabooed subjects, attempt to justify their existence by claiming in some obscure way to reinforce social norms. It would be a much better book if it were written in workaday English, but it is nevertheless an interesting read, and insightful almost despite itself.