Race in horror films

Last updated

Judith O'Dea and Duane Jones in Night of the Living Dead (1968). The casting of a black actor in the lead role of an American film that did not explicitly explore ethnicity is often considered notable for its time. Ben giving Barbra slippers in Night of the Living Dead bw.jpg
Judith O'Dea and Duane Jones in Night of the Living Dead (1968). The casting of a black actor in the lead role of an American film that did not explicitly explore ethnicity is often considered notable for its time.

Depictions of race in horror films have been the subject of commentary by fans and academics. Critics have discussed the representation of race in horror films in relation to the presence of racist ideas, stereotypes and tropes within them. The horror genre has conversely also been used to explore social issues including race, particularly following popularization of social thrillers in the 2010s.

Contents

Throughout the history of the horror film genre, especially in American-produced horror films, racial minorities have not received as much representation as white people, often being relegated to lesser roles. For most of the 20th century, minorities were often subject to tokenism, being frequently cast as supporting characters or villains. [3] The representation of race in horror films has undergone a significant transformation over the past century. Early examples, such as Son of Ingagi (1940), one of the first horror films to feature an all-Black cast, challenged the genre’s exclusionary norms and offered a rare space for Black storytelling. In the 1970s, films such as Blacula (1972) and Sugar Hill (1974) blended horror with Blaxploitation, presenting Black protagonists who subverted traditional monster tropes while reflecting the sociopolitical tensions of the era. The 1990s introduced more nuanced racial themes into mainstream horror, notably with Candyman (1992), which explored urban legends and racial trauma. These films laid the groundwork for the emergence of Black horror as a distinct subgenre, paving the way for contemporary works that center race as a core thematic element.

[4] [5] [6] [7]


"The Brother Always Dies First"

"The Brother Always Dies First," coined by film critic Roger Ebert, references the popular misconception that black characters are the first victims in horror films. [8] While it is not true that minority characters are always the first victims, black characters have a significantly high mortality rate in horror films. This includes minor, non-speaking, sometimes nameless roles that might not warrant death within the narrative. In an informal study of nearly one thousand horror movies with at least fifteen hundred appearances of black characters, scholar Robin R. Means Coleman and author Mark H. Harris found the mortality rate was around 45%. [9]

In this, Jurassic Park (1993) may be the most remarkable example, killing off an unnamed Black guard within mere minutes. [10]

This perceived phenomenon is satirized in the 2022 horror-comedy The Blackening , in which a group of black characters attempt to be the least-black to avoid death.

The consistent killing of black characters was in part popularized by a lack of significant roles in early horror films, making them easier to kill in comparison to their white counterparts. Black characters were relegated to the status of largely undeveloped expendable victims. [11] For example, Mantan Moreland's unnamed character in Spider Baby (1967) is killed-off for shock and comedic effect. [9]

Interestingly, one of the greatest of classic horror films, Night of the Living Dead (1968) defies this trend with the sole Black character being the last man standing. ' [12]

Themes and plot devices

Much of the attention that minorities get within horror films is through the use of their culture as plot devices and structures to scare or trigger guilt among the white protagonists. [13] [ unreliable source? ] References to such things as the "Indian burial ground" or the "medicine man" are commonly used in the horror genre to create a stereotype of "the other" and frighten white audiences. [13] Many of the themes and plots relate to forcefully taking land from aboriginal peoples and the horrific outcomes that follow. [14]

Horror films often rely on minority cultures and their signifiers being reduced to a mythical standpoint. The films do not portray these minority cultures sufficiently as an active part of the world, or in the lives of the main characters. Instead the cultures are cast as part of the mythological background of the evil that threatens the protagonist's life. American horror films have attacked the substance of both Native American and African American cultures, using them as devices and ultimately pinning them down as aspects of the past that are no longer a part of the current American culture. The "Indian burial ground" motif, heavily featured in horror film cycles of the 1970s and 1980s, is an example of how mainstream cinema renders Indigenous people as both hyper visible and invisible." [13]

Native Americans are often hyper-visible in North American films [and] at the same time they [are] rendered invisible through plot lines that reinforce the trope of Indigenous people as vanishing or inconsequential. Native Americans stand at the center of the dominant culture's self-definition because Euro American identity submerged and formed upon the textual and visual culture register of the Indigenous other. [15]

Mythical negro

The "Mythical Negro" character is usually an older character who serves as an all-knowing aide to the main characters. [16] The "Mythical Negro" usually informs the protagonists of the realities of the horror they face, and guides them along the way. This character is set up to be sentimental and usually dies at some point giving the main character more cause to defeat the evil. They act as an outlet for exposition and their death is usually seen as necessary for the plot. [16] Movies like The Shining show this trope, with the only black character, Dick Halloran (Scatman Crothers), being the one who understands the protagonist's true powers and the evil surrounding the plotline. However, in line with his trope, he dies in an attempt to rescue the protagonist from the antagonist. [17]

Zombies

The concept of zombies has roots in slavery in Haiti. Zombies are seen as lifeless and live a life of constant despair, similar to the lives of slaves who were subjected to cruel environments and treatment, making them live a life of misery. [18] Suicide was common during slavery, but it was believed that if you died your spirit would be released back to Africa, though if one were to take their own life, this would not be. Because of this, zombies were a metaphor for being trapped in ones' body until death as committing suicide would mean that your soul would not be released back to Ian guineé. [19] However, a zombie might be more than a metaphor. In the early 1980s, ethnobotanist Wade Davis discovered zombification was a real punishment delivered by a bokor. This punishment is delivered in the form of a powerful toxin - a mixture of tetrodotoxin and Datura. After rubbing it onto the victim’s skin, the victim appears to be clinically dead, only to revive in the morgue (or their grave) days later. After recovering enough to walk, they live without a will and work as slaves in Haiti. [20]

Race as a theme

Director Jordan Peele's 2017 horror film Get Out received acclaim for its exploration of race in the United States. SXSW 2019 2 - Jordan Peele (47282560202).jpg
Director Jordan Peele's 2017 horror film Get Out received acclaim for its exploration of race in the United States.

There are a handful of directors attempting to address issues of race and sexuality, [22] [23] and the exploitative power that horror movies have. Many Native American and African American directors/screenwriters and actors have begun to use the horror genre to bring issues of racism and violence to audiences. [14] [23]

Social Commentary in Horror

As we have seen develop in the 2010s, social commentary in horror has become deeply prevalent with the existence of Jordan Peele's filmography. Starting in 2017 with his breakout film Get Out, which depicts a critique on modern racism with the notion that racism only exists in overt, right-wing forms. Instead, it shows how even ostensibly progressive, liberal white people can harbor deep-seated prejudices and engage in racist behaviors. In the film, the Armitage family's interest in Black people is not about true equality, but about a desire to possess their physical vitality, athletic prowess, and artistic talents, which they believe are superior to their own. [24]

Just two years later in 2019, Peele delivered another Black-forward social commentary in his film Us. However, this time he focused less on that of issues raised from racial biases, but that of an exploration of American privilege, class division, and the idea that the "monster" often lies within ourselves and our society. The film's Tethered, subterranean doppelgangers, symbolize the forgotten and marginalized Americans whose suffering is overlooked by the privileged "halves" above. The story's central twist reveals that the protagonist, Adelaide, is actually a Tethered who switched places with her surface-dwelling counterpart, highlighting how privilege can be gained through the suffering of others and the way one's identity can be shaped by circumstance. [25]

The Centering of White Fear in Horror [26]

Perhaps unsurprisingly, many horror movies focus on white protagonists, white families, and white fears. Minority characters, especially Black ones, often serve as sacrificial lambs, dying early in the action. (See “The Brother Always Dies First” above.) Otherwise, these films (reflecting their directors and producers) center the white experience.

The classic franchises of the 1980s, Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street both present white teens (generally privileged white teens) endangered by working class villains (Freddy Krueger – a custodian, and Jason Voorhees – son of the cook.) In these examples, horror reflects both racial (centering a white experience) and class-based perspectives.

The Obama presidency was a historic event for the nation. For over 200 years, the presidency had been reserved for white males, and for the vast majority of that time, this fact was unquestioned by large segments of the population. While the election of the nation’s first Black president was widely celebrated by many Americans of all races, it was simultaneously deeply unsettling to some.

The economic recession which began with the collapse of the housing market in 2006-2007 was on-going. Some saw Obama administration policies as unfairly prioritizing immigrants and people of color, at the expense of whites (a narrative eagerly promoted by some conservative pundits.) Together, these factors created a sense of unease about the state of white people, and white families. In some cases, this expended to a sense of victimization.

Meanwhile some on the left struggled with guilt over both past injustices, as well as the prosperity which built from these. Issues like redlining highlighted where people of color had been systematically excluded from opportunities for wealth-building. Some while some white Americans feared losing their home and status to minorities, other Americans were recognizing that their very possession of it in the first place was influenced by inequalities and injustices.

This made the home, specifically the white family home, a center battle zone for both perspectives. Accordingly, there was a dramatic increase in films featuring haunted houses as a significant theme. From 1980 – 2007, there was an average of less than one such film a year. That jumped to 3 ½ a year from 2008 to 2016. There was a similar, but smaller, increase in home invasion themed horror movies. This all spoke to a central fear – did we own our homes, and could we hold onto them? Concern over the future of white families was also apparent. There was an increase in movies with a “horrific child” theme. Children are, of course, the future. The classic American dream has always included not just the house and picket fence, but also the perfect 2.5 children. The theme of evil or demonic children asks whether that dream is still alive.

Finally, while much of the country looked forward, a notable section also looked back, often wistfully, on the “better days” behind us, to a time when we were “great.” This nostalgic feeling would be expressed in an ever-increasing number of re-makes of classic horror films, allowing for audiences uncomfortable with the ‘now’ to escape back into the ‘before.’

Art reflects life and the horror movies of the Obama era express some of the feelings, and reservations, some Americans (specifically white Americans) had during this era.

See also

References

  1. "How Casting a Black Actor Changed 'Night of the Living Dead'". August 31, 2010. Retrieved June 23, 2022.
  2. Wilkinson, Alissa (July 22, 2017). "The late George Romero didn't mean to tackle race in Night of the Living Dead, but he did anyway". Vox. Retrieved June 23, 2022.
  3. Benshoff, Harry M. (February 1, 2000). "Blaxploitation Horror Films: Generic Reappropriation or Reinscription?". Cinema Journal. 39 (2): 31–50. doi:10.1353/cj.2000.0001. ISSN   1527-2087.
  4. Coleman, Robin R. Means (2011). Horror Noire: Blacks in American Horror Films from the 1890s to Present. Routledge.
  5. "Son of Ingagi".
  6. "Blacula".
  7. "Candyman (1992 film)".
  8. Ebert, Roger (September 26, 1997). "The Edge". RogerEbert.com. Retrieved October 10, 2023.
  9. 1 2 Means Coleman, Robin R.; Harris, Mark H. (2023). The black guy dies first (1st ed.). New York: Saga Press. ISBN   978-1-9821-8653-1.
  10. Spielberg, S. (Director). (1993). Jurassic Park [Film]. Amblin Entertainment.
  11. Pinedo, Isabel Cristina (2016). Recreational Terror: Women and the Pleasures of Horror Film Viewing. SUNY series, INTERRUPTIONS: Border Testimony(ies) and Critical Discourse / s. Ithaca: State University of New York Press. ISBN   978-0-7914-3441-3.
  12. Romero, G. A. (Director). (1993). Night of the Living Dead [Film]. Image Ten.
  13. 1 2 3 "This Essay Was Not Built On an Ancient Indian Burial Ground". offscreen.com. Retrieved July 4, 2022.
  14. 1 2 Smith, Ariel (2013). "Indigenous Cinema and the Horrific Reality of Colonial Violence". Decolonization Indigeneity, Education & Society. S.l.: Journal Publishing Services. ISSN   1929-8692. OCLC   848920283.
  15. Raheja, Michelle (2011). Reservation Reelism: Redfacing, Visual Sovereignty, and Representations of Native Americans in Film. University of Nebraska Press. OCLC   940646862.
  16. 1 2 Complex, Valerie. "Will It Get Better For Black People In the Horror Genre?" Archived May 29, 2016, at the Wayback Machine Black Girl Nerds. 31 July 2015. Web. 11 April 2015.
  17. "Dick Hallorann's death in The Shining is both a WTF moment and tragically inevitable". SYFY Official Site. May 21, 2020. Retrieved June 9, 2024.
  18. Magazine, Smithsonian; Eschner, Kat. "Zombie Movies Are Never Really About Zombies". Smithsonian Magazine. Retrieved February 28, 2025.
  19. Magazine, Smithsonian; Eschner, Kat. "Zombie Movies Are Never Really About Zombies". Smithsonian Magazine. Retrieved February 28, 2025.
  20. https://harvardmagazine.com/sites/default/files//zombie_1986_small.pdf
  21. Hiatt, Brian (January 29, 2019). "The All-American Nightmares of Jordan Peele". Rolling Stone. Retrieved July 4, 2022.
  22. Blackwell, Ashlee. "Black (Fear) On Both Sides: Thinking About Candyman, Blacula and Race in Horror Films." Archived May 29, 2016, at the Wayback Machine Shock Till You Drop. 10 February 2015. Web. 11 April 2016.
  23. 1 2 "The woke undead: how zombie movies are taking on racial politics". the Guardian. November 29, 2019. Retrieved September 30, 2022.
  24. Reid, Alex. "Get Out: Screenplay Breakdown". Arc Studio. Arc Studio. Retrieved October 15, 2025.
  25. Bedard, Mike. "Us Movie Ending Explained: Symbolism, Themes & Easter EggsUs Movie Ending Explained: Symbolism, Themes & Easter Eggs". Studio Binder. Studio Binder. Retrieved October 15, 2025.
  26. Meeuf, R. (2022). White Terror: The Horror Film from Obama to Trump. Indiana University Press.

Bibliography