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Blog Post #6
I think using the last few films, including “The Devil in America” by Kai Ashante Wilson, “Paralysis” by R. Shanea Williams, and “Abby” by William Girdler, towards the end of the course was a great way to wrap and sum up our semester, thoroughly highlighting different aspects of the genre from historical trauma to psychological horror to cultural representation through each piece. To begin, what I liked about “The Devil in America” was just how well the history blended with supernatural horror. What was unsettling, and not necessarily due to the devil itself, was how the figure of the devil represented the enduring pain of racism on a deep level. I didn’t consider the devil as some independent creature throughout the novel, but rather think he served as a metaphor of the pervasive, systemic evil that haunted black people for generations. It definitely radiated the message of how historical injustices are still significantly present in our society today. The theme was also surprisingly familiar to a Persian film I used to watch as a kid with my parents, with a similar scary figure representing this larger, darker identity that haunted Persians for so long, which I found so cool!
However, “Paralysis” was an entirely different kind of horror. It felt more intimate, focusing on psychological struggles and unresolved trauma similar to what we have seen before. The film's portrayal of a black woman battling inner demons was raw and heartbreaking. I appreciated how it showed that horror doesn't always come from outside sources or pressure and how sometimes, the scariest things are the ones we carry within ourselves. Watching this reminded me of times when I’ve felt overwhelmed by anxiety, and it was almost comforting to see that experience reflected so honestly in a piece of art. It was without a doubt still unsettling, especially since there wasn’t a clear resolution or easy fix that felt true to certain aspects of life. Finally, “Abby” brought something entirely unique to the table. I'll admit that I was a little skeptical going into another film knowing it was a Blaxploitation film. However, I was surprised by how much depth it had. I found the film's use of possession as a metaphor for both societal and personal control really interesting, and I thought a lot about how black women are often expected to navigate multiple layers of identity and oppression. A few parts felt dated but overall the central themes felt relevant and important.
As I’ve mentioned in most blog posts before, looking back on this class, I can honestly say it has expanded my understanding of horror in ways I never expected. I came in thinking we would just watch scary movies and talk about tropes, but instead, I’ve learned how black horror is so much more than that. It’s a genre that reclaims narratives, addresses real world issues, and challenges audiences to think deeply about history, identity, and resilience. I’ve also gained a new appreciation for the creativity and innovation in these works, from the layered storytelling to the use of horror as a tool for social commentary. This course has not only changed the way I think about horror but also how I view storytelling as a whole. I’ve enjoyed discovering these films and stories, some in a new way than before, and I’m excited to see how black horror continues to evolve in the future. It feels like there’s so much more to explore, and I’m looking forward to seeing how this genre continues to break boundaries and redefine what horror can be!
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Blog Post #5
This week’s class discussions and films have been some of the most thought provoking we’ve had so far in my perspective. Watching “Blacula” by William Crain was an eye opener for me. I didn’t know what to expect from a “Blaxploitation horror film” and honestly, I thought it might feel outdated or even strange. Instead, I found it to be surprisingly layered. The concept of a black vampire whose story connects directly to slavery felt fresh and innovative. I appreciated how it reframed the classic Dracula story to include a black perspective, challenging themes of oppression and identity. However, I feel that some moments leaned into stereotypes, which felt ironic compared to its intentions. That tension made it a bit of a mixed experience for me, but I can see why it’s considered an important part of the genre’s history.
“Suicide by Sunlight” by Nikyatu Jusu was also particularly interesting. The idea of black vampires being immune to sunlight because of their skin was such a clever and powerful metaphor. It explored privilege and exclusion in a way I’d never seen before in horror. What this short film managed to capture was remarkable, emphasizing the tension between the lead character's vampire nature and motherly duties, which reflected to me the ways in which black women are often expected to balance personal and societal burdens in real life. I found it to be raw, emotional, and refreshing. Something I’ve learned about black horror is how imaginative and multilayered it is. As I have mentioned before, I initially expected to view mainstream horror throughout our course, just with more diverse characters and stories. However, black horror has become a voice in itself that is so deep and meaningful. The way it is able to reclaim narratives and represent different messages is very noteworthy.
“Beloved” on the other hand was a much heavier experience. I had heard about Toni Morrison’s novel before, but seeing the film brought the horror of it to life in a way that felt way more emotional. Like we also discussed in class, the ghost of “Beloved” as a manifestation of generational trauma was haunting, both literally and metaphorically. Unlike the others, “Beloved” is actually surrounded by terror, rooted deeply in the theme of slavery and modern issues of identity and family. It is not something I "enjoyed" in the right sense, but it did leave a mark on me. It made me consider how trauma, generational trauma in particular, still haunts and shapes people in ways that feel impossible to escape. These works all have some great themes, and I believe I could resonate with a few. For instance, the generational trauma in “Beloved” really reminded me of the kinds of cultural and familial weights I carry to meet expectations. Although my story doesn’t compare to that of Sethe's, I can definitely relate to feeling shaped by my past that is hard to escape.
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Blog Post #4
The more I have been in this class and the more material we are introduced to, the more I have been considering black horror as part of a much greater perspective than ever before. As we began the quarter, I thought we would be observing only the inclusion of black people in horror movies, but it's starting to feel like I dig deeper into something so much more personal and cultural. Take “Eve's Bayou”, for instance, in which I went into this movie prepared for a ghost story, and it ends up being all about real life fear and family trauma. The layers of fear incorporated in Eve's experience with her father makes this movie psychologically haunting. It reinforced to me that horror doesn't need monsters or the supernatural to make us afraid and sometimes, it's the unresolved secrets inside a family that can really haunt us. I could relate to how one's childhood innocence is taken away by the revelation of a hard truth, something which I could well relate to. I found this to be most relevant to me in regards to my experience immigrating, and the challenges it brought me and my family. It exposed us to layers of secrecy that have been unfolding, in which the secrets and hard truth are now haunting me.
On the other hand, “Night of the Living Dead” brought up a different set of feelings. Even though I’d seen it before, revisiting it with the context of the 1960s Civil Rights Movement gave it a whole new impact. Knowing that Duane Jones’s character, Ben, wasn’t written specifically to be black made his presence even more powerful as well. I found him to be that rare black lead defined less by his race, but by his strength, independence, and leadership which is crucial to black characters in such films. The ending and the way he gets shot by a white mob left the audience with a feeling of hopelessness and frustration that have unfortunately remained relevant throughout the years.
Lastly, I feel that “The Girl with All the Gifts” allowed for a fresh, new twist on the concept of the zombie genre. It really made me think, especially because the main character was a young black girl (Melanie) and one who wasn't just human but infected, about how black identities get labeled as others. I did not realize that I would feel so sympathetic toward a character that, through the view of the world, was a "monster", and it did get me thinking about how sometimes society has different types of individuals that, though trying to survive, are viewed as threats. The movie really made me evaluate how horror is used as a metaphor for racial fear and the notion of the "other", yet at the same time, it begs the question of who the monster is in this situation? Melanie's human nature, although infected, causes the non-infected ones to be more brutal and somewhat monstrous. In conclusion, this course has continuously broadened my view of black horror. I better understand how it is a manifestation of deeper fears, injustices, and cultural truths. It is not just about scares but rather deep identity and historical tension shaping the black experience in ways that created new concepts in my mind.
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Blog Post #3
What interests me about this week's works is both versions of “Candyman”, and how they explore racial trauma and the idea of what it means to be haunted. Each of these versions gives its own look into those elements, and obviously, that colors how the horror plays out. In the original, we see the story through the eyes of Helen, who becomes practically obsessed with the urban legend that is “Candyman”. It is a black man who was tortured and killed in the 1800s for having relations with a white woman. Something really interesting that we discussed in class is the immediate connection and parallel we could make with King Kong, in which the main "evil" character is pulled into tragedy through his fascination with a white woman while still being a menace to the society surrounding him. This implies that Daniel's tragic death is only tragic since they involve a white woman. This aspect, especially when the story is largely through Helen’s eyes, leaves out the authentic voice of the black community affected by Candyman’s legend.
I found the new “Candyman” refreshing because of its decision to center the black characters and their communities, letting them own the narrative in such a way that the framing feels almost correct from the original. This time, the trauma, fear, and lived experiences are those of people who can identify with those things. It’s not the horror of what “Candyman” does, but is within the everyday lives of the characters. These include gentrification, violence, and just this feeling of ignorance. In fact, such a transformation in the main character to the next “Candyman” is symbolic of how trauma is relayed through generations and becomes this cycle that takes different forms in each generation. The other thing about the original “Candyman” is that Helen's fears of losing control and experiencing violence almost felt like they were from a white, centric view where stepping into a black neighborhood or engaging with its culture was horror in itself. It was not really based on the black experience, but rather was more on Helen's experience of fear, which did feel a bit problematic to me. It's almost as if blackness was a tool to analyze white fear instead of itself being a real and lived experience. Lastly, I was surprised at the fact that horror films in that period almost always took place in a suburban town or in the woods, incorporating teenage white kids. The fact that it took place in the urban city made it significantly more relevant to a lot more people. In reference to Cabrini Green and the fear of public housing provided in this week's module, this housing project “is where all of the candy-men and candy-ladies of the world live; all those vampires, all those blood suckers”. Being based in Chicago, the project was meant to provide affordable housing and an attempt at promoting more mixed neighborhoods. However, the white neighbors unjustly believed that the colored neighbors, or undesirables, would bring down the land value, rape daughters and steal from homes. Cabrini Green itself is almost a character within the film since it's a collection of societal neglect and stigmatized views on public housing for low income black communities. It’s really interesting seeing them use the character to give the violence a shape more easily seen. The real horror is not about “Candyman” as a ghostly figure but about real life fear and prejudice in regard to public housing, where the marginalized are left with things like poverty, crime, and isolation. To outsiders, such as Helen, Cabrini Green becomes a space of "the other”. This layer of horror makes Cabrini Green both a literal and symbolic source of fear. In the newer “Candyman”, Cabrini Green's transformation is reviewed to a point where it shows, even when physical spaces change, that social stigma and cycles of trauma remain. Both films use setting to highlight societal fears of poverty and black communities, emphasizing Cabrini Green as a haunted space and people of society.
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Blog Post #2
In this week's class, we have learned about some really interesting pieces in the Black Horror genre that I really enjoyed, and it really opened my eyes as to how this genre can act as a medium for serious cultural commentary. One thing I have greatly noticed and learned to appreciate is how Black Horror incorporates fear into the experience of black identity and history in a way that is unique to other genres. It's not about jump scares or gore, but rather the deeper tensions and traumas that exist in reality and can express themselves within a horror film. For this reason, it can make such a genre much more personal, impactful, and thought provoking.
Throughout the different sources we were introduced to, “The Blackening” stood out the most to me. I found it especially interesting since it used humor to further criticize the way black characters are portrayed in mainstream horror films, which is that we usually see black characters get killed off early or shown only in stereotypical light, but this film flipped that on its head by making the entire cast black and giving them depth. I did find it to be funny, but it also made me reflect on the absurdity of how these characters are generally treated in horror. In a sense, I got the understanding that the movie was trying to radiate the message of how such portrayed characters know how Hollywood sees them and the stereotypes involved, but they are not going to take that anymore and want to change the narrative. Something else worth noting is how the film highlighted the crucial element of cultural knowledge and how it helped them survive. The more knowledgeable they were, the more questions they could answer, which ultimately turns this aspect of shared background from weakness to a strength. I believe it had a great balance of satire with moments of genuine suspense, while having something real to say about black representation.
However, the case of Ouanga, or Love Wanga, was quite different. While watching it, I was surprised by how it approached the subjects of voodoo and magic, but made me think of how these concepts have been really misrepresented in film. It felt very much like a product of its time, reflecting those older stereotypes about the spirituality of black people and magic. In class, we did discuss how these very elements have been somewhat reclaimed by black filmmakers today and presented in a manner more authentic to the culture. Black magic, whether seen in films or myths, has always been deemed historically negative or strange, so it is nice to see modern directors oppose this idea.
Something I could personally relate to with an element of what was included in Black Horror is the idea of incorporating humor and comedy into times of uncertainty or negativity. I often find it easy or a good way to address issues with satire and exaggerated humor to confront certain situations. It allows me to subtly address the issue at hand while keeping a subtle vibe and doesn’t escalate the issue further. Overall, what strikes me about Black Horror is how it fuses entertainment and real life issues in a way that makes each personal yet political. I believe that it isn't just about scaring people, but more about making them contemplate social problems on an entirely deeper level. I certainly admire how the genre serves as a space where black creators can reclaim the narrative and have stories not just about fear, but stories about survival, resilience, and identity. This has been the biggest surprise for me and the most powerful lesson I've taken away so far.
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Blog Post #1
To begin, I have found this class about black horror to be eye opening in more ways than I thought it would. In all honesty, I didn't acknowledge that "black horror" was a genre prior to this course. I knew about films like “Get Out”, but never really thought about how deep the genre truly goes, or how horror in terms of race can tell a story much more than just fear. Now I am able to connect how it reflects some real life horrors that black people face daily.
As one of our first impressions, the message of “Get Out” definitely stood with me. I had previously watched it myself for entertainment, but with the new insight, rewatching it made so many of those aspects come to light that I had not caught the first time around. An example could be the microaggressions being thrown at the protagonist Chris throughout the movie. I found it to be one of those moments when all the other characters are trying to be really "woke" or progressive when really it comes off as condescending or creepy. The theme is evident through the unsettling environment that arises during something as simple as meeting his own girlfriend's parents. However, what really amazed me was how the movie is scary without relying on jump scares or gore. The horror here is something more psychologically founded, and something rooted in the real life racial dynamics, highlighting the harsh reality blacks are faced with sometimes.
Another work included so far in this course that got me thinking was "Wake" by Bree Newsome. I knew of Newsome through her activism, but wasn’t aware she had creative work in the genre of horror. "Wake" was more subtle and eerie in nature compared to “Get Out”, but felt powerful in its own way. I thought one of the great things about it was the way that it played with ancestral trauma and how spirits of the past haunted the present. This made me realize that black horror isn't all about dealing with racism in a current sense but more reminiscing about the history of slavery and oppression and how those things still linger today. I felt the supernatural elements in "Wake" were somehow a metaphor for how the past is always with us, especially for marginalized communities.
The material thus far has been filled with surprises, but something that really shocked me was learning more about the roots of black horror and how often it's tied to historical events and experiences. I had just assumed that horror in general was for entertainment, but now I realize how it can be a form of resistance and storytelling mainly by black creators. I find it amazing how it gives a voice to radiate fears and experiences that aren't always represented in mainstream media. Although it’s unfortunate that these fears and experiences exist to begin with, it is beneficial to at least be able to spread awareness through something as valuable as film.
While I personally have never experienced any of the works discussed specifically, I feel as though the entire idea behind being "othered" or out of place, similar to how Chris does in “Get Out”, is something most individuals can understand on some level. Although I am not of African American descent, this theme resonates with me due to my own Persian Jewish heritage and the creative depictions represented within this genre. These include themes of feeling left out or having some sort of traumatic history which lingers across generations that reminded me of my own cultural background. Growing up in a minority group with known persecution, I often feel the struggles of history on identity, whether it's through stories of survival or cultural expectations placed on me due to being targeted in many ways. This was predominantly true during my first years in America as an immigrant but still remains an issue today. Through a religious aspect, I believe politics significantly influences others' perception of my identity and even more nowadays due to the present condition of the world. The viewing of “Get Out” and “Wake” made me contemplate how horror, in its core, can be used to explain those sensations of disconnection and difference that I have been experiencing myself while navigating the reality of both Persian and Jewish identities. It's not the same, but the racial dynamics of black horror do run parallel in the sense that I am always aware I belong to a marginalized group and history is always a part of my present reality. These works have certainly exposed me to an entirely different genre, and it made me think more critically about what horror is, especially in relation to race and identity.
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