A Nightmare on Elm Street

 

I first saw Nightmare in my teenage years and have seen it many times since. I’ve always really liked the movie, but never realized until this rewatch how perfect it really is. Craven’s vision is a near-flawlessly executed horror that gets better with age. Why? Because pretty much every scene is one that sticks with you for life.

To start, I don’t think Heather Langenkamp gets enough credit. Don’t get me wrong, she’s well-liked, but still isn’t held in as high regard as she should be for being one of the most badass heroines in horror history. Is there anything more awesome than her using booby traps to capture Freddy? (That hammer gag is priceless). And the white hair streak? Iconic!

Another actress who doesn’t get enough credit is Ronee Blakely. Perhaps I’m biased because portrayals of alcoholic mothers resonate strongly with me, but I think she delivers one of the most memorable performances in the film. She’s so compelling and significantly upstages Saxon (who is also very good, don’t get me wrong). The film’s biggest flaw in my opinion is that it feels like there’s a missing scene of Mrs. Thompson hitting the bottle prior to her argument with Nancy. Our first real indication of it is when Nancy articulates it verbally.

Slashers are often seen as horror films that center around an external threat. A Nightmare on Elm Street is interesting because it doesn’t really fit into that box. It’s a film that showcases how external threats become internalized fears, nullifying the entire binary between internal and external. External threats can only live on if they are able to parasitically take hold of the mind. Mrs. Thompson’s attempt to kill Freddy in the flesh failed, showing the futility of external destruction. Only by realizing that Freddy himself is not the real danger, but the idea of fearing Freddy that lives in her head can Nancy truly defeat him.

While Halloween was the first to explore ideas of the plasticity of safety and community in the American suburb, it’s killer’s invincibility and flirtations with the supernatural ultimately portray the threat as exclusively outside the individual. Since Nightmare takes four slashing fingers to the internal/external binary, it is able to expand upon themes of suburbia, safety and class much farther than Carpenter’s film was capable of.

In many ways, the film is antithetical to Marxist ideas because it shows that the comforts of class still can’t erase the internal fears, nightmares and existential terrors that are a fundamental part of the human condition. Perhaps they even allow more room for them to harbor. As Dr. Melfi says, “when the desperate struggle for food and shelter is finally behind us, we… turn our attention to other sources of pain and truth.”

The title is not something I’d given much thought to before as it’s so ubiquitous, but it’s clearly meant to draw our attention to the film’s setting. The emphasis on a generic sounding suburban street name in direct relation to the “nightmare.” This fear of life in the suburb is a sentiment that I find particularly relevant to queer viewers. As a trans woman who’s lived in both, I can genuinely say that I’ve always felt safer living in a city environment. Especially now with the tide of thin blue line flags lining America’s sprawl.

Part 2 is often seen as “the gay one,” but that movie’s ending has always irked me by showing Mark Patton’s character choosing to remain closeted. Not that making that choice isn’t an issue that queer people face, but I don’t think the way it’s handled is very affirming or empowering. It feels like a renunciation of everything the character learned throughout the movie. (And yes, I’m fully aware that choosing that ending probably had to do with studio approval/market factors, if anyone knows for sure, lmk!)

By contrast, the fact that Nancy conquers her fear internally is empowering. It causes us to reflect on what scares us and realize that we are the ones enabling them. While I’m particularly interested in the threat of danger queer people feel in suburban environments, this really is universal. Acknowledging that fear for what it is and that we’re the ones in control of it inspires us to say “you’re nothing, you’re shit.” In contrast to Halloween, Laurie confronts Michael whereas Nancy confronts herself.

Also of note is the failure of the nuclear family structure to protect you. Mrs. Thompson dives deeper into her alcoholism after realizing that her attempt to save her daughter didn’t work. Saxon doesn’t believe his daughter and only comes around after she’s already gotten the job done.

Craven occasionally uses symbolism of the Cross and there are mutterings about the failures of morality. Nancy realizes that acting like a puritan won't mean she's safe, unlike in other slashers where that is the necessary prerequisite for survival. This commentary on Christian morals is placed in relation to The Family and the American suburb. It’s not meant to be viewed on its own, but as a background image of a morality and institution that goes hand-in-hand with the others the film is commenting on.

Nancy smashing the bottle in front of her mother is a turning point. It’s her smashing the suburban dream, her faith in her mother and God. There’s no possibility of being lulled back into any promise of false security. She has to go inside herself now to take on Mr. Fredward. Therefore, despite not showing any signs of deviating from cisheteronormativity, Nancy is a queer hero (“queero?”). She is the image of an empowered individual in the face of fears of suburban life, family structures and Christianity, all of which stand in opposition to queer liberation.

So, despite the surface level subject matter (alright perhaps teetering just below it) of Part 2 being ostensibly more “gay,” Nightmare 1 will always be “the gay one” to me because it speaks to the underlying emotions and fears of the queer experience on a much deeper level than its sequel.

Jesus won’t save you, morality won't save you, The Family won’t save you, the economic comforts of suburban life won’t save you, utopian visions of the future that are a compensation for your fears won't save you. You can only save yourself. There is no Kingdom of Heaven literally or metaphorically, but each individual has the strength of will to defeat their own nightmares if they know where to find it. The nightmare of marginalization can be overcome if we stop playing into its narrative of victimhood. To quote Laura Jane Grace, “we all are stronger than everything they taught us that we should fear.”

The ending is a sobering reminder that conquering our fears is not a one-and-done task. They will continue to haunt us, and only through continuous, conscious action can we rise above them.

And that’s how Freddy helped me stop worrying and conquer my fear of fascism. “I take back every bit of energy I gave you.”

Kiki's Delivery Service

This is the perfect movie to watch the day after Halloween. When you still have decorations up, candy wrappers on the floor and the trashed jack-o-lantern from last night looking at you. It’s witchy, but not scary or even spooky. It also takes place in Midsummer, which reminds us that although the dark days of Winter are ahead, we shouldn’t lose sight of the Spring that will soon come after.

This has always been one of my favorite Miyazaki movies and I didn’t know how I would respond upon revisiting it. Needless to say, I was so overcome with emotions watching it and think I like it even more now. This movie makes my eyes water, not at scenes of any huge emotional climax, but of just being. My body just naturally responding to the overwhelming amount of joy that seeing these images move brings me.

This is a film about the quiet moments. The spaces in-between. The film takes time to show us Kiki staring at dust and sighing. It’s also a film about quaintness. Kiki uses an icepack to reduce her fever and the prospect of popping a couple Tylenol is never mentioned. The architecture of the town and the lines on the bread are not just tertiary background noise, but central to what gives Kiki’s Delivery Service its magic.

Kiki’s journey is universal regardless of age. As we grow into adulthood, we learn that the cycle of putting yourself out there, being shot down, getting discouraged and then lifted up again is never-ending. Same with losing your inspiration and needing to find it again. Kiki’s age is merely the first time we encounter this experience. (Actually 13 is pretty young to be living on your own for the first time!) Her story speaks to both the allure of independence, and the unrealistic expectations we have of it as kids.

The movie portrays the realities of how we have to navigate the world through a market economy that, like it or not, we do live in. However, it shows us a view of work that is different from the one most of us find. The village bakery and delivery service both provide types of work that the characters like doing. They speak to a time before industrialism, when the work-play binary was not so rigidly defined. The film's quaintness offers a glimpse into a more idyllic world where industrial capitalism, while still present, maybe hasn't run so rampant. All of this is emphasized by the use and aesthetic of witchcraft, pop-cultural though it may be.

This is my favorite “girl goes down the rabbit hole” movie from Miyazaki (Princess Mononoke being my favorite of his “fantasy epics”) and one of my favorite movies overall. And that opening credits sequence, how can that not bring a smile to your face? :)