The Heterosexual Horror Show - Gendered Fear in 2024 / 2025 Cinema
Sometimes, there are bad boyfriends and other times, there are killer romances. The narrative notion of gendered horror is not a new one; many classic and modern entries in the genre toy with gender norms regarding sexuality, promiscuity, and virginity. However, while watching three films at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival, another pattern emerged. Heterosexuality, its potential triumphs, and frequent missteps became the acme of the frightening stories taking shape across different types of horror (romance/fantasy, thriller/comedy, and thriller/supernatural). All three films were set in the modern-day, thus operating as present explorations of how a man and woman navigate the disillusionment of typical heterosexual relationships. But do these films bring anything new or exciting to the conversation? How do they engage with or challenge gender dynamics and heterosexuality with varying degrees of success?
Melissa Barerra is a budding scream queen, as the former frontrunner of the new Scream sequels and the daughter of murderer Billy Loomis, as well as the new vampire flick Abigail. Her work in Your Monster, which premiered at Sundance and was acquired by Vertical, is nothing short of a welcomed trinity. The film is director Caroline Lindy’s first feature and was based on the short film featuring Kimiko Glenn and Tommy Dewey. In light of what everyone hopes is an incoming renaissance, Your Monster is a romantic comedy with a fantastical twist. Dewey plays a monster, the kind that would hang out in your childhood closet. When Laura Franco (Barerra) hits a rough patch in her life and relationship, she returns to her mother’s home to reset before quickly coming face-to-face with her now-adult Monster, who has staked his claim. Though Laura must learn to share the domestic space with Monster, in her public life, she must learn to take up more space as an artist and a woman.
Not unlike the horror genre, popular romantic comedies predominantly focus on heterosexuality, but in presenting these common tropes by blending the two genres, Your Monster offers an exciting subversion. What initially spins Laura into her journey is not solely her cancer diagnosis and treatment but, more emphatically, her boyfriend Jacob’s decision to break up with her while she is still in the hospital bed. The repercussions of this are not only felt as an abandoned romantic partner but as a creative one: Jacob wrote a musical with Laura in mind for the lead, and Laura often gave her own feedback and ideas for the production. Toward the end of her recovery, she learns from her closest friend, Mazzie, that Jacob has continued working on the musical without Laura, a deep betrayal and disrespect. Monster, as a feral and outspoken foil for Laura, helps her regain her confidence and assert her dominance. In re-inserting herself into the play, Laura experiences the push and pull of collaborating with an ex—the tightrope of trying to walk toward something new but wanting to turn back to what you know.
In the Q&A after the screening, the crew confessed that the short film was not as romantic and that to make the feature, they leaned into the “mushiest parts” of the short. It was an adjustment worth making. The chemistry between Barrera and Dewey is exceptional; Barerra excels not only in the horror/fantasy the audience suspects but in the comedic shyness she facially commands so well. Dewey, even caked in 5 hours' worth of makeup and hair, radiates a gentleness in her company; furry hands fiddling with a doorknob have never looked so precious. Though Jacob is not a villain in a literal violent sense, he is a dick, which for many heartbroken women is bad enough. Yet, the answer is not to abandon love altogether but to instead remain open to finding it in unconventional spaces. In the same vein as The Shape of Water, which many unimaginative viewers failed to appreciate, Your Monster is about the Others in Love. Its greatest subversion lies in the fact that the Monster is the Prince Charming, and the conventionally attractive and more accessible affair is the Hellscape, filled with ego and pretension. Laura and Monster’s bond elicits that the violent macabre, often what a break-up leads to or something that separates the lovers, is actually a gateway to transformation not only in romance but in the self.
Similarly to Your Monster, the main character of this next film also finds a way to regain her control in an unbalanced relationship. It’s What’s Inside has already captured attention as Netflix purchased it for a whopping $17 million. The film revisits the unraveling of an already messy friend group once they spend a night in the same home, celebrating the pre-wedding weekend for their friend Reuben. The group consists of our main characters: dull couple Shelby (Brittany O'Grady) and Cyrus (James Morosini), alternative besties Brook and Maya, hot girl influencer Nikki, and wild guy Dennis. Eventually, we learn Reuben has invited a more estranged member of the group, the nerdy Forbes (David W. Thompson). Sexual chaos ensues!
Written, directed, and edited by Greg Jardin, It’s What’s Inside immediately introduces and follows the pitfalls of a heterosexual relationship. Opening on Shelby donning a wig in the hopes of reigniting the sexual spark between her and Cyrus, it juxtaposes this sad devotion with Cyrus browsing pornography and fawning over his previous crush, Nikki from the friend group. The couple is incompatible, and they are not the only ones. The film offers one of the most relatable Instagram envy montages, in which Shelby obsesses over Nikki’s Instagram and her own, considering captions, poses, and hotness. Once the couple arrives at the mansion in which the bachelor game night takes place, the other (hetero)sexual dynamics slowly take form. The groom-to-be himself, Reuban, is eyeing his own former fling, hippie chick Maya—a problematic place to be on the eve of your wedding. The plot comes together when Reuban shares, to everyone’s surprise, that he has invited Forbes. This tension is most realized with Dennis, who, back in college, was involved with Forbes’ younger sister, causing a rift that led to the estrangement. Unlike the grounded game of Bodies, Bodies, Bodies, Forbes offers this gang the chance at a mystical experience in which everyone has the chance to switch bodies and see through the eyes of another. The catch is that you don’t know who you’ll end up as, and everyone has to keep it a secret so the game of guessing can take place.
What makes It’s What Inside so fascinating is the way it explores how this opportunity can be used for (hetero)sexual gain and manipulation, thus illustrating a pointed criticism of disingenuous monogamy and dangerous sexual frustration. Most explicitly, a sexual encounter leads to the unexpected deaths of those involved, thus spiraling the narrative beyond sexy mystery and toward actual risk and punishment. Those willing to act on their narcissistic heterosexual dissatisfaction do not go without consequence. In a fashion similar to Your Monster, the plot becomes more enticing when the woman at its core, Shelby, pushes past her comfort zone and isn’t afraid to stir shit up, finding power in being someone else’s body and calling the shots. It’s always exciting to see films of this genre unafraid to make their characters unlikeable, especially when we initially sympathize with their position. Why should Shelby’s boring relationship stop her from embracing her own envy? In the film’s final act, a stunning twist is revealed, centralizing another heterosexual relationship worthy of criticism and punishment. While it is fair to say It’s What’s Inside is narrow in only presenting these binary relationships, it comes with a scathing view on heterosexual failure, firmly planted as a contrast to the queer storylines in Bodies, Bodies, Bodies.
This last film shifts to discussing a younger and older generation, concentrating on a nuclear family: mom, dad, teenage son, and teenage daughter. Director Steven Soderberg is no stranger to studying both the sexually odd (Sex, Lies, and Videotape) and popular (Magic Mike), and his new film Presence drops this observation into a classic haunted house, slow horror setting. Lucy Liu plays Matriarch Rebecca, eager to move into a home closer to a school that will offer better opportunities for her children. But, she is clearly more devoted to her son, a fact father Chris tries to confront her on by saying “your advice always corresponds with us not having to do anything at all.” Though the married couple have their fair share of domestic problems, it is more background to the gender dynamics at play within their children.
Presence tells two seemingly parallel stories, that of daughter Chloe and that of son Tyler. At first, it platforms Chloe’s journey at the forefront as she is reeling from the unexpected drug overdose and death of her friend. When she moves into her new room and senses a supernatural form hiding out in her closet and moving her stuff around, she can’t help but think it is her friend from beyond the grave. Laterally, Presence has much to say about masculinity through the character of Tyler and his friendships. Obsessed with his self-image, especially through preserving his friendship with popular kid Ryan, Tyler resents Chloe’s self-ostracization at school. Instead of extending his sister any sympathy, he would rather spend his time engaging in revenge porn with classmates, laughing about it in the living room, and facing little consequence from his mother. Suddenly, the Presence furiously destroys Tyler’s room upon hearing his indiscretion. The film subtly tracks Tyler slowly losing his father’s respect, as he is once again the voice of reason: “Somewhere, there is an excellent man inside you.” When that version of Tyler will emerge is the question.
As Tyler brings Ryan to the house more often, he and Chloe form a bond. Reminiscent of the early stages of JD and Veronica in Heathers, the two bond over how misunderstood they feel, and how much control they lack. Once again, the Presence reels at the complicated heterosexuality on display here, interrupting Chloe and Ryan from getting sexually involved. Presence is interested in weaving toxic heterosexual desire, predominantly toxic masculinity’s role in that desire, with the supernatural to offer a pulsating thriller about relationships. The disturbing nature the film takes in its final half-hour dug itself under my skin; the imagery and vocabulary of such destructive desire too familiar and more horrifying than any illusory being in the closet. Penned by the same screenwriter as Panic Room, David Koepp, Presence captures the physical and emotional confinement central to domineering men interested in asserting dominance over the women around them.
It is evident that each film explored here is interested in the tried-and-true exploration of gender and heterosexuality in horror. Your Monster does so in the most exciting and whimsical way, being the only film here to actually feature a loving, if still macabre, relationship between a “man” and woman. They may not seem normal to the world around them, but Laura and Monster make each other better, and Laura’s triumph at the end is the perfect mixture of absurd and beautiful. It’s What’s Inside seems to be the weakest entry, not necessarily challenging anything already expressed on the pitfalls of heterosexuality but instead getting a bit wrapped up in its entropy and offering comedic darkness, though with flimsy stakes and a stale “good-for-her” finale hard to buy into. Some critics have said that Presence uses stereotypical gender roles and can feel a bit hollow, but the effectiveness in portraying such a blistering critique of male idolatry while still trying to deliver a hopeful message is its most powerful asset. As these films roll out over the next year, I am eager to witness how others will make similar connections between them, noticing the disillusionment of certain heterosexual pairings while still maintaining an interest in how one can come out of them wiser and stronger.