I came across It Came From The Closet by Joe Vallese while browsing lists of queer literature to add to my ever growing to-be-read pile. As soon as I realised the book was a collection of essays on queer representation within horror movies, I knew I had to read it for the Book Nook.
The book is split into 5 parts and consists of 26 essays covering a wide variety of horror movies, from the supernatural to monsters to fatal attractions. Each writer tackles a specific movie from their personal queer perspectives, peeling back the layers of much loved horror movies which, at the core, tend towards being heteronormative at best and blatantly queer phobic at worst.
As we all grow up, we’re greatly affected by popular culture, no matter how much we might try to be individual and free thinking. Movies are a huge segment of the popular culture pie, and whether we like it or not, we absorb the messages and conventions that we see within those movies.
As we begin to grow and realise who we are, we find ourselves drawing on our well of socially acceptable conventions. That’s not to say that we will always follow those conventions, but we will use the information we have of them to decide on how we interact with the world. Movies are a huge segment of the popular culture pie, especially horror movies. Queer characters, in particular, are given stereotypes within horror movies, which are often more damaging than not.
The Cambridge dictionary defines horror movies as “a film in which very frightening or unnatural things happen.” Britannica.com furthers this idea, stating that they’re “calculated to cause intense repugnance, fear or dread” and often include “deformed, disturbed, psychotic, or evil characters.” It’s very telling then, that when LGBTQ+ characters are within a horror movie, they are either the villain/aggressor or they are appropriately punished as a victim. They are hardly ever the hero/main character.
Queer people can be so attached to horror movies, sometimes going as far as seeing a reflection of part of themselves in the less desirable characters. In these essays, you see the authors draw parallels between their own experiences and the villains of these horror movies, such as the changing of the werewolf at a full moon and even identifying with The Blob as it slowly consumes a city.
My personal favourite essays within the books were The Birds by Laura Maw and The Exorcist by S Trimble. In The Birds, Maw talks about discovering her sexuality as a lesbian and how she saw that reflected in two characters within The Birds. Anyone queer who has seen this movie will know what I’m referring to, the heat between Annie and Melanie. Although one is an ex of Mitch and the other is pursuing him, their heat and flirting is so obvious it can be spotted from space. However, no one mentions it as they’re only meant to be love interests for the male hero of the piece. Maw mentions when she realised her relationship was becoming noticeable by others around her, she felt like the moment in The Birds where a woman in the cafe hysterically accuses Melanie of bringing the evil with her. This really hit me hard, as whenever I’m dating a woman, I’m always on my guard. This is something I never experience when I’m dating a man, and that is both telling and sad.
In The Exorcist, Trimble talks about her experience of growing up gay in a religious household, likening herself to the demon which the priest drives out of the body of the girl. There’s a part where Trimble talks of how women are to be controlled, and if they don’t fall into line then they must be forced to. After reading this, I rewatched the movie, and I could see exactly what she meant, and that was more scary than any image of a girl spider-walking along the walls could ever be.
I would say the only essay I wasn’t comfortable reading at all was Child’s Play by Will Stockton, as he shares a lot of personal information about his adopted son whom he likens to the doll in the movie. I couldn’t help but wonder if the child was aware this personal information was being shared in this manner and also how it must have felt having their behavioural issues compared to the actions of a murderous doll would make them feel. It left a bad taste in my mouth, however, the other essays were more than enough to make up for that.
It’s important to note that although this book comes without trigger warnings, it might be worthwhile keeping in mind that they do tackle some topics which might make people uncomfortable, or which might trigger someone who has had similar experiences. These topics include homophobia, transphobia, growing up LGBTQ+ in religious households, bisexual invisibility, AIDS, queerbaiting, classism, racism, abuse of all kinds, and discussion of disabilities. These topics, coupled with the personal experience of those writing the essays, might be upsetting and therefore reading with caution is advised.
It’s not necessary to have seen the movies before reading this book, as the authors of each essay give enough context in relation to their personal experiences that you don’t need to. I would advise that if you do want to watch each movie, that you do it before reading the book, as there are a lot of spoilers within the pages that might alter/influence your movie experience.
I highly recommend this book to anyone who loves horror movies as much as I do. Some of the themes within it were already familiar to me, having noticed several of them myself as a queer person and a horror fan, but others I hadn’t considered at all. It was truly eye opening in some ways and a reassuring pat in others. In all honesty, I plan to read it again once I’ve watched the movies I haven’t yet seen that are mentioned.
