Alien (1979)

"If movies are the dreams of the mass culture... horror movies are the nightmares"-Stephen King

This simple question causes a lot of (sometimes dishonest) debate. While it is not reasonable to expect everyone to have film genre theory under their metaphorical belt, it is still frustrating to hear people spout problematic criteria that falls apart in microseconds under the most basic scrutiny. I'll be critiquing some of the more nonsensical takes before ending with a working definition. Horror filmmaking is rooted in stories, folk tales, tall tales, and any other storytelling intended to scare, shock, and thrill listeners. It is meant to repulse us, often with a central villain, monster, or threat that is often a reflection of the fears being experienced by society at the time. This person or creature is the monstrous other, a term that refers to someone that is feared because they are different or misunderstood. The Horror genre changes because society changes.

65 (2023) is The Last of Us with Alien and Jurassic Park thrown in for some extra razzle-dazzle.

How does one make a movie about a natural predator terrorizing humans in a new way? This is the question many modern monster movies run into at conception. Most never convincingly answer. No shark movie after Jaws has done much more than solidify the shark-movie conventions set forth by that blockbuster by more or less following the story beats. Most are disregarded as cheap mockbusters save a handful like Deep Blue Sea and 47 Meters Down. And even these films only really changed the location, being completely immersed in the ocean as opposed to on a beach and/or in boats.

Hatching is a Finnish horror film that modernizes the European changeling story. The 2022 horror film was directed by Hanna Bergholm and written by Ilja Rautsi. The film incorporates psychological and body horror elements, doppelganger mythos, modern anxieties around social media, and the social pressure to have the “perfect” family and life, to the fairy changeling trope.

The film opens on an impressive note with foreshadowing, symbolism, and visual commentary that sets up the premise of the film. The family appears “perfect”. Mother, played by Sophia Heikkilä, is shooting a video for her ‘Mommy Blog’, and tags them as the “lovely life of a normal Finnish family.” Her idea of normal is a socially conservative one: nuclear family with blonde homemaker, tied-neck-sweater breadwinner, perfect-blonde-gymnast daughter, and ‘good ole boy’ son. Mother and daughter are in delicate white dresses, straining to appear casual despite their formalness. Father and son are clad in neutral khakis and collared shirts, obviously handpicked to be set pieces. Their living room is ‘magazine shoot’ immaculate, complete with sun windows, pastel colors, flower arrangements, Greek statue décor, and crystal furnishings. The “perfect” family presses their faces together on their “perfect” couch to document their “perfect” life.

Tinja opens the window after the video shoot. On cue, a raven flies in and begins destroying Mother’s perfect living room. The sequence culminates in the crystal chandelier, the centrepiece of the living room, crashing into the glass coffee table. The raven unceremoniously flies back out of the window, its ominous message complete. The movie continues in that thematic vein.

If there’s one thing everyone hasn’t gotten enough of lately, it’s reboots. (Except me, I’ve had enough). Add a multiverse and you’ve got what should be a successful formula. While the Charmed reboot did very well in the beginning, its viewership dwindled as the series progressed. Originally airing in 2018 and finishing its final season in June of this year (season 5 was cancelled by the network), this magical reboot failed to charm fans of the original series.

The Charmed reboot is quite a departure from the beloved 90’s hit show starring Holly Marie Combs, Alyssa Milano, Shannen Doherty, and Rose McGowan. Still centered around sisterhood, the Charmed reboot features three sisters, Maggie (Sarah Jeffery), Mel (Melonie Diaz), and their long-lost, older sister, Macy (Madeleine Mantock). The series opens with the mysterious death of the mother of Mel and Maggie Vera. Similar to the original series, Mel and Maggie are unaware they descend from a long line of magical blood. While in the original Charmed it is the return of Phoebe Halliwell that leads to the activation of the power of three, in the reboot, it is the arrival and discovery of long-lost sister Macy Vaughn that brings about the witches’ powers.

There are more similarities reminiscent of the original show, such as the introduction of their white lighter (played by Rupert Evans), a magical being that is meant to protect and guide the charmed ones. The reboot even delves into a romantic relationship between the white lighter and one of the charmed ones. The world created in the Charmed reboot, however, varies greatly from the familiar (and slightly corny) realm the Halliwell sisters inhabited. The threats the sisters face become increasingly dark throughout the series. The tone of the show is at times more maudlin than fantastical. Perhaps the biggest change is the diversity of the series cast and the inclusion of intersectional feminism through Mel’s career and the passions and identities of the three sisters.

Now, before doth thou protest, I believe in giving shows their due. Charmed was created during a time when the idea of “feminism” was a dirty word, mostly reserved for crazed, bra-burning radicals that hated men. The 90’s were a complicated time for women. While we had made many historical gains and were a far cry from the rigidity and control of earlier times, we weren’t at the end of the tunnel yet—we still had (and have, sigh) a long, long, way to go. Up until relatively recently, most women did not want to associate themselves too closely with the movement. They felt the pressure to stand up against injustices and advocate for their fellow women while at the same time, wanting to remain desirable to potential partners and avoid the socially undesirable label of “feminist.” This cognitive dissonance in our collective minds made it difficult to take too hard of a stance—underplay the movement and you felt like a sell-out—get too involved, and you became a social pariah.