thoughtscarla

[thoughtscarla]

Blog Post #6

In the last few weeks of lecture, one work that we focused on and discussed was Abby (1974). This film was about a Nigerian mythology and Blaxploitation horror movie. It is about the tale of a Christian lady, Abby, who is possessed by a Yoruba sex spirit. This film deals with themes of sexuality, religion, and cultural conflict. Abby is devoted to a preacher and she begins to act strangely and sexually uninhibited, and this is inconsistent with her chaste and quiet demeanor. Her marriage and social status collapse as a result of her growing uncontrollability and contempt for social conventions as the possession worsens. 

Professor compared Abby to The Exorcist. It was fascinating to see the cultural reinterpretation and the overlap of similar themes but still centering on the Black experience. Rather than taking away from the tale, the poorer production and quality gave the story a rawness that seemed to be true to the Blaxploitation era. I also could not help but notice how several aspects of the movie felt reductive due to the reliance on stereotypes, both regarding Black women’s sexuality and African spirituality. The story also presents Christianity’s influence as more or a setback rather than an empowerment, which suggests that Abby’s sexual freedom was inherently wrong and needed to be suppressed to restore her to her “pure” state.  

I could relate to the movie's focus on the examination of social and societal pressures. I could relate to Abby’s internal battle, since I have also experienced pressure to live up to a certain moral or cultural standards. Though her story is far more dramatic and complicated than mine, I have also struggled with identity issues and the conflict between tradition and individuality. 

Especially coming from an Arab ethnic background, I have definitely had my fair share of internal and external identity conflicts. Abby’s transformation served as a reminder of how social conventions function as a sort of possession and force people to repress aspects of themselves that may not necessarily fit in with what society expects of them. I also found Abby’s belding of religious and sexual themes to be interesting. As a woman in a religious marriage, Abby struggled with her sexuality alot and this felt like a bold statement on the significance of the interconnection between religion and sexuality, especially when it comes to taboo topics like sex. 

Sexuality is often a taboo topic and faces a lot of stigma and stereotypes, especially in religious contexts, even though there is nothing inherently wrong with discussing it. This theme, which explores the tension between personal desires and religious standards, can be applied on a broader scale to various religions and even other topics.

[thoughtscarla]

Blog Post 3

This week in our lectures we discussed the different versions of Candyman, and we also discussed Tales from the Hood. Some overlapping themes from all three films included racism, systemic injustice, trauma, and revenge.  

In class, we discussed how Tales from the Hood was relatively different from other films that we have watched and analyzed in this course. This film felt more like a revenge or reparations film for what Black people endured in the US in the past, and this can even be related to present times. Something that I particularly enjoyed about Tales from the Hood was the implementation of horror with social commentary, as I had not seen before. Unlike traditional horror films, Tales from the Hood's purpose was not simply to scare; rather, it incorporated supernatural elements to explore real life social issues that Black communities faces. The film addressed this by implementing themes such as systemic racism, police brutality, and generational trauma. 

The original Candyman (1992) was deemed problematic because it wasn't true Black horror; but rather, it was just a horror movie that happened to cast Black characters. It centered on Black trauma through the lens of white people. Conversely, Candyman (2021) was more resonant and influential because it was an actual Black horror film that centered on black trauma and utilized Black voices to convey the message. The new Candyman told stories of black trauma through the lenses of Black people who experienced and lived through that trauma. The original film only scratched the surface level and relied on typical stereotypes, showing that they simply casted Black characters rather than prioritizing real Black experiences to tell a story. In the modern version, we saw more layered themes and the implementation of multifaceted/broader perspectives. 

A personal example from my life reminded me of the stereotyping and dehumanizing that occurred in Candyman. In the original Candyman, Daniel’s story was twisted into a myth that demonized him as a monster, and disregarded the reality of his tragically and racially motivated death. This reminded me of my experiences as an Arab Muslim American. Living in a post-9/11 America has exposed me to many situations where Arabs are poorly portrayed as terrorists in films, perpetuation other stereotypical stigmas. In many films, Arabs are plotted and depicted as terrorists even though arabs consist of about 1/10 of total terrorist attacks in America. This portrayal is inherently dangerous, as it distorts the real complexities and humanity of our communities (and often minority communities). 

[thoughtscarla]

Blog Post 5

Thus far in the course we have gone over abundant amount of films and short stories. Jordan Peele's Get Out and Us have particular stood out to me, and they both delved into themes such as identity, loss of autonomy, psychological horror, racial inequality, and privilege. While Get Out was a more direct message and work revolving around racism, Us focused more on societal inequality and class privilege. I particularly enjoyed Us because I felt as though it resonated with a wider audience. For example,  while the themes of racism in Get Out, and in general, are incredibly powerful and moving, they may not feel as personal or immediately relatable to individuals who aren’t Black. Even though we strive to understand and be allies to the Black community, we can never fully claim to understand their struggles and trauma. Conversely, Us focuses more on class and societal privilege, themes that can be a little more universally applicable and relatable to a broader audience. I’m not suggesting that racism can only be understood by those who experience it directly, but rather than topics like class and privilege often can hit closer to home for a wider audience. 

This week we focused more on Ganja & Hess, Blacula, and Beloved. Both Beloved, Get Out, and even Candyman (2021) explored themes of generational trauma and the impact of systemic oppressions on Black people. In Beloved, we discussed how the trauma of slavery is passed down through generations, as Sethe’s painful experiences with enslavement haunt her and even affect her children. The film portrayed how the past’s horrors continue to shape the present and illuminated how the scars of slavery are not easily repairable or healed. This theme is related to Get Out, because generational trauma also shaped the experiences of Chris and other characters. The legacy of slavery and racial violence/trauma was present throughout the film and was especially portrayed via the Armitage family and their actions regarding their ability to commodify and manipulate Black bodies. Similarly, in Us, the film touched on themes such as privilege and social inequality, which helped tie into the broader exploration of how historical trauma manifests in contemporary struggles. In all of these films, the past’s unresolved issues- whether that may be gentrification, slavery, racism- affect not just the individual lives, but also the entire community. This creates a cycle of trauma that appears in various generations. 

Something that I learned about Black horror that surprised me this week was the disturbing trend in film and T.V. where LGBTQ+ characters are portrayed in works just to be killed off. This is a trope known as “kill the gays.” This trope is typically utilized to further the storyline or to emphasize a sense of sacrifice or tragedy. This is harmful for perpetuating harmful stereotypes about marginalized groups, and reinforces the idea that queer identities are disposable or poison. We can see how this trope can be applicable to other marginalized groups and how filmmakers oftentimes may use these groups for the sake of “inclusivity” or “diversity” just to check off the box. But they do not necessarily care about the authentic and honorable portray of these marginalized groups. 

[thoughtscarla]

Blog Post 4

In this week's lecture we discussed Eve’s Bayou and its significance as a Black horror film. Some recurring and significant themes that were discussed included: incest, secrets, community, curses, betrayal, and loss of innocence. The supernatural elements of the film that enabled the characters to explore their emotional complexities. For instance, Mozelle and Eve both have the gift of sight, which lets them see visions of other peoples experiences. Mozelle admits that she was unaware of her husband’s death and clarifies that her gift is only of use to people that she is not emotionally close to. 

Another theme of emotional complexity was when Eve struggled to comprehend Cisely’s vision at the end of the movie. The way in which the family trauma distorts perception was reflected in their inability to understand the “truth” of their fathers actions and his death. Oftentimes, individuals have a hazy recollection or view of traumatic events, particularly when it involves family or one that is close to them. People without comparable experiences may find it difficult to understand the range of emotions that occur, frequently expecting victims to categorically condemn the offender. Due to the supernatural elements of the film, there was room for ambiguity, which allows Cisely and Eve, and even viewers, to heal and ponder. 

While I enjoyed the complex emotional and supernatural elements/themes of the movie, I felt especially uneasy about the incest themes. Though these themes were ambiguous and subtle, I found the themes of Eve and her father to be startling and uncomfortable, which took away from the story’s overall impact. This inclusion of incest incorporated a layer of unease that was difficult to process, and even distracting from the other themes, especially considering the film’s already supernatural and horror elements. 

Another interesting discussion in class was Professor Due’s observation regarding how Black horror films depict community, especially via the use of party scenes. This was eye opening because it demonstrated how even in uncomfortable situations, these parties/get-togethers serve to reaffirm themes of friendship, family, and community. It was interesting to observe how these films emphasize the value of connection and community even in the face of chaos or horror elements. 

Overall, I thought that Eve’s Bayou was great, especially the themes of community, secrets, and the loss of innocence. The scene in the carriage house where Eve witnessed her father with another woman is probably relatable to a lot of individuals. In addition to the act itself, that moment is devastating because it drastically changes Eve’s view of her father. Witnessing something like this can completely destroy the perception that children have of their parents, which they frequently develop throughout their lives. This is relatable to the impact of infidelity leading to family breakdowns, and can relate to this experience of losing innocence.

[thoughtscarla]

Blog Post 3

This week in our lectures we discussed the different versions of Candyman, and we also discussed Tales from the Hood. Some overlapping themes from all three films included racism, systemic injustice, trauma, and revenge.  

In class, we discussed how Tales from the Hood was relatively different from other films that we have watched and analyzed in this course. This film felt more like a revenge or reparations film for what Black people endured in the US in the past, and this can even be related to present times. Something that I particularly enjoyed about Tales from the Hood was the implementation of horror with social commentary, as I had not seen before. Unlike traditional horror films, Tales from the Hood's purpose was not simply to scare; rather, it incorporated supernatural elements to explore real life social issues that Black communities faces. The film addressed this by implementing themes such as systemic racism, police brutality, and generational trauma. 

The original Candyman (1992) was deemed problematic because it wasn't true Black horror; but rather, it was just a horror movie that happened to cast Black characters. It centered on Black trauma through the lens of white people. Conversely, Candyman (2021) was more resonant and influential because it was an actual Black horror film that centered on black trauma and utilized Black voices to convey the message. The new Candyman told stories of black trauma through the lenses of Black people who experienced and lived through that trauma. The original film only scratched the surface level and relied on typical stereotypes, showing that they simply casted Black characters rather than prioritizing real Black experiences to tell a story. In the modern version, we saw more layered themes and the implementation of multifaceted/broader perspectives. 

A personal example from my life reminded me of the stereotyping and dehumanizing that occurred in Candyman. In the original Candyman, Daniel’s story was twisted into a myth that demonized him as a monster, and disregarded the reality of his tragically and racially motivated death. This reminded me of my experiences as an Arab Muslim American. Living in a post-9/11 America has exposed me to many situations where Arabs are poorly portrayed as terrorists in films, perpetuation other stereotypical stigmas. In many films, Arabs are plotted and depicted as terrorists even though arabs consist of about 1/10 of total terrorist attacks in America. This portrayal is inherently dangerous, as it distorts the real complexities and humanity of our communities (and often minority communities). 

[thoughtscarla]

Blog Post 2

I really enjoyed watching The Blackening, especially reflecting upon the themes of racism, power dynamics, and identity/representation.  Something I particularly enjoyed about the film was the emphasis on community and how one’s close circle (of friends and family) is a vital part of fighting back against oppressive forces. This was especially important within the realm of racial discrimination. An example of this from the movie is when the group of friend face the masked killer together. Instead of succumbing to division and fear, they come together and rely on one another and their collective strength to navigate the situation. This theme of unity reinforces that idea that solidarity is essential in overcoming systemic challenges and that the unity helps confront immediate threat. 

Additionally, another aspect I enjoyed from the film was the subtle theme regarding authority and power dynamics. The choice to cast a park ranger, rather than a police officer, really illustrated the deep mistrust of traditional authority figures, especially in a situation involving Black individuals. This somewhat subtle detail really alluded to the generational trauma, and even institutionalized racism, that the Black communities face due to their historically dangerous encounters with law enforcement. For many Black people, calling the police is not a safe or viable option, even though law enforcement is supposed to protect us. This also remains a significant issue in our society today. This mistrust is rooted in experiences where interactions with police have disproportionately led to negative outcomes for Black individuals. I believe that in the context of the film, this was a subtle yet intentional choice in order to really highlight the traumas that are embedded in the consciousness of Black Americans, showing that they often avoid authority figures who are intended to “serve and protect,” yet end up unwarrantedly harming Black individuals. 

Something else that was eye opening was the discussion that we had with Dewayne Perkins during tuesday’s lecture about the film. Dewayne touched on how black women are often victimized, yet simultaneously played as heroes in Black films. I thought this was an important theme to mention because Black women do not receive nearly as much recognition as they should (or to their counterparts) in their contributions to film, entertainment, etc. The Blackening included female characters that challenge traditional traditional roles in horror films. Unlike lots of horror films where the female characters are sidelines or given helpless victim roles, the women in this film demonstrated resilience and depth. This helped highlight the intersectionality of race and gender and helped convey how black women navigate not only racial discrimination, but also gender based biases. This added to the layers of their experiences and reflected broader societal issues that black women and women of color face. 

[thoughtscarla]

Blog Post 1

One scene that particularly stood out to me and that we discussed in discussion was the scene from Get Out where Chris and Rose hit the deer. At first, the scene may have just seemed like an accident when Chris and Rose were on the way to their family’s house. However, the scene soon felt like a symbolic interaction. The scene conveyed Chris’s sense of powerlessness and helplessness. We witnessed Chris in a situation where he is essentially being mirrored, and it was almost an “aha” moment when he locked eyes with the deer. Ultimately, the film revolves around Chris being dehumanized, objectified, and hunted down by people who, despite their initial friendly surface, actually had ill intentions. 

The scene also reminded me of how Black people are frequently treated in society, even to this day. The deer’s thoughtless death and subsequent abandonment also foreshadows the horror that Chris experiences later on, when he is objectified and devalued. This can tie into the broader conversation of how Black lives can be devalued and even dismissed in society. For Chris, the deer’s death becomes an unsettling precursor to his own sense of vulnerability and helplessness in a world that preys on him. 

Another interesting aspect of Black horror that we discussed in lecture and something new that I have learned about is the “spidey sense” that black characters tend to have. In a lot of “white” horror films, the characters frequently ignore danger, or even walk straight into it and string along with it. But in films like Get Out, Chris’ instinct kicks in, almost immediately. He instantly knew and could sense that something was “off,” even though everyone around him was convincing him that everything was fine. This reaction can speak to the survival mindset that has been passed down through generations of trauma, slavery, colonization, and racism; and these all contribute to the instinctual sense of danger that Black people and characters have shown in films. We can see that it is not just a horror movie trope, but rather a reflection of real life where Black people tend to have to be hyper aware of their surroundings for their own safety and sanity; and usually, this instinct and survival mode is not present in their white counterparts or peers. This contributes to the layers of Black horror, because it ties into how these scenarios are real and lived experiences of the Black community, rather than mere jump scares or supernatural elements. 

One thing that surprised me this week was realizing how Black films and actors often have to compete for the spotlight in a way that their white counterparts don’t. In films with predominant white casts and creators, the industry allows there to be “multiple” hits and spotlights. However, when it comes to Black films and creators, there sometimes can only be one “hit”. It’s subtle, but a reminder that racism is still prevalent in the film and entertainment industry. Instead of celebrating all remarkable Black actors, creators, and works at once, there’s typically this feeling of competition, and sometimes message, that there is only room for one success. This limits the opportunities for our Black community and also reduces their work to rarity, rather than a consistent pattern of recognition and spotlight, that their white counterparts are usually granted.