By Abigail Harrison [Edited by Jaina Debnam and Fenella Jenkins]
Clive Barker’s 1987 film Hellraiser is arguably one of the most sexually charged horror films of its time, merging the worlds of eroticism and perversion to encapsulate both the normal and abnormal. Hellraiser embraces the monstrous through human and supernatural figures through protagonists Frank and Julia versus the villainous Cenobites. The transformative process of Frank’s physical state allows for the film’s protagonist, Julia, to explore a darker side to her prevalent sexuality. Julia’s uncanny lust for pleasure leads her to stray from her doting husband and stepdaughter through the allegorical channel of the monstrous. Is Julia celebrated or condemned for her unapologetic indulgence of her sexuality? Does Hellraiser celebrate sexual liberation and queer identities considering the depiction of those who are portrayed as differing from the heteronormative values of the 1980s as heinous? This essay will consider whether Hellraiser delineates sexual liberation or rather anxieties surrounding eroticism by assessing the presentation of family, relationships and gender through the perspective of gender theory and psychoanalysis.
Julia Kristeva’s essay, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection, establishes that the abject is a phenomenon that ‘fascinates desire, which nevertheless, does not let itself be seduced.’ This theory establishes that humans subconsciously create physical and mental barriers, most commonly skin, in order to protect themselves.[1] The individual’s continued rejection of that which disgusts them fabricates a situation in which they can feel a sense of ‘other’ to it, which enables feelings of safety. The abject often stems from repression and disgust at that which already exists inside us, such as faeces, vomit or flesh. Reinforcing this view, Sigmund Freud’s The Uncanny, follows the theory initially coined by psychiatrist Ernst Jentsch, which describes the notion of the repressed materialising in one’s conscious mind. Freud proposed that the uncanny is used to store repressed fears from one’s childhood, particularly the unconscious trauma of castration anxiety.[2] Freud strengthens this exploration into the subconscious with his theory of The Ego and the Id, which develops the notions that the mind houses the superego, the conscious is concerned with morals and inhibitions; the id, the primitive, unconscious mind is concerned with desires; and the ego, which mediates the two.[3] Laura Mulvey builds on Freudian psychoanalysis in order to develop a critical theory on gender and female representation in horror. Mulvey argues that sexism is rife within the horror genre, where women are explicitly used for the pleasure of men.[4] When considering sexuality, Harry Benshoff in Monsters in the Closet argues ‘The (homo)sexual implications of the monster movie still continue to lurk beneath the surface of social awareness’, the monster genre centres itself around allegorical villains which reflect anxieties surrounding the context in which they were made. Sexuality can be exploited through horror to push heterosexual societal norms and display anything that diverges from this as monstrous.[5]
When examining the extent to which Hellraiser celebrates queer identities and sexual liberation, the essay will consider three crucial points alongside the writings of psychoanalysts and gender theorists. Firstly, by analysing the works of feminist writers Carol Clover, Barbara Creed and Laura Mulvey, I will analyse the film’s portrayal of the two female characters, Julia and Kirsty, and their contrasting personalities in order to convey a message about deviance and innocence inherently linked to sexuality. Equally I will consider the male-dominated sexual cult of the Cenobites and the limited parameters that women possess to explore sexuality within the film. Secondly, I will use the contexts of Harry Benshoff, Sigmund Freud and interviews with Clive Barker to analyse the presentation of sexuality within Hellraiser and how the representation of allegorical queer, monstrous identities within the Cenobites are used to reflect the socio-historic wider context of the HIV crisis which gripped Britain within the 1980s. Finally, this essay will argue, alongside Barbara Creed and Sigmund Freud’s theories of the monstrous womb and vagina dentata, that Hellraiser imparts a reflection of real anxieties surrounding the destruction of the nuclear family in Thatcher’s Britain. Considering Hellraiser’s portrayal, that those who deviate from the heteronormative narrative deserve punishment, and the strong veins of abjection which run through the film, it appears that it does not wholly celebrate queer identities and sexual liberation. The depiction of male-dominated pleasure, if at all, provides an exclusive commemoration of diverging sexual identities and, as such, cannot portray a representative view of eroticism. Though Barker’s intention in directing Hellraiser may have been to normalise and celebrate abjection and differences in the film, the execution and reception considering the socio-historic context may differ from such objectives.
Hellraiser’s protagonist Julia embodies Barbara Creed’s theory of the Monstrous-Feminine.[6] The film utilises colour connotations to display Julia’s transformation towards villainous
sexual liberation: in her introductory scene, Julia wears a white and grey business suit with minimal, natural looking makeup and slicked back hair, yet, when Julia descends on her victims, she adorns black blazers, red lipstick, large earrings and black sunglasses. This shift into a more provocative style of dress conflates the notions of a woman being a harlot and thus deserving of her eventual grim fate.[7] Equally, Creed explores the theory that menstrual blood and castration anxiety are linked, hence, when Julia revels in the blood of her first victim, she embodies the monstrous feminine, using her sexuality to seduce and subsequently kill her victims.[8] Freud’s theory of the uncanny lends itself to Julia’s character extremely well; in the same scene where Julia murders Frank’s first victim, she slowly revels in the blood that splatters on her. The transformation of Julia initially being frightened by painful pleasure and the existence of Frank to her accepting the abject and embracing a much darker side to herself, is the release of a repression coined by Freud when describing the uncanny.[9] The liberation of Julia’s ‘dark’ sexuality hidden within, is stimulated by the black clothing she wears, often with shoulder pads which allow for a more masculine silhouette. This is portrayed as dangerous, causing her to murder unsuspecting, innocent victims. By painting unapologetic female sexualities in such a way, Hellraiser conveys the key message that women who are sexual are ultimately a threat, with a hidden agenda, much like the Vagina Dentata. This representation punishes sexual liberation, rather than celebrates it.
Mulvey alludes to the idea that women are included in film as the objects of male sexual desire, building on the aforementioned castration anxiety initially theorised by Freud. By Mulvey’s analysis, women are reduced to vehicles of scopophilia for the male-dominated audience. Both Julia and Kirsty conform to this thesis in Hellraiser, though they are used to represent opposite ends of the spectrum: innocent versus sinful. As Mulvey argues, often in film ‘the man controls the film phantasy and also emerges as the representative of power in a further sense’ and this is critical to the relationship of Frank and Julia.[10] Mulvey’s understanding of male control also infringes on the Cenobites, who only have one female Cenobite, aptly named as such. Though Julia is represented as being liberated in her sexual desires, she is inherently under the control of Frank, thus Hellraiser pushes the heteronormative narrative that a woman is under the control of her male lover. Carol Clover coined the term ‘final girl,’ which denotes the last girl alive to tackle the villain, often because she has abstained from sinful activities, unlike her dead counterparts.[11] Kirsty, in contrast to Julia, abstains from wearing dark or red colours on her person and, as such, can follow through with the ‘final girl’ trope. Throughout Kirsty’s experience in the hospital, the imagery of flowers is symbolic for femininity and the vagina, promoting the notion that women cannot be coincidingly sexual and feminine. In the same vein, Kirsty, through this scene is reborn as what can be interpreted as the ‘ideal’ woman; feminine yet strong and ultimately rejects queerness. As the ‘final girl,’ Kirsty is the character ‘to root for’ and, as such, is portrayed as above the other characters for her views. Hellraiser claims to be celebratory in its representation of sexual liberation, yet its portrayal of gender dynamics offers the interpretation that sexual liberation, which is to be commended, is exclusively for males.
The most widely celebrated character throughout the Hellraiser franchise is the leader of the Cenobites, Pinhead. Though his actual airtime is relatively brief, he became the centrepiece of Barker’s carefully crafted public reception of the film before its release. Pinhead is the spectacle of abjection, which runs deep throughout the film. Doug Bradley described his head: ‘You couldn’t look at it, you wouldn’t want to look at it. But it struck me that there was an aesthetic to this image; a kind of beauty.’[12] The film utilises abjection in order to conflate pain and pleasure, intrinsically linking the two with the display of sexual acts or torture.[13] The physical placement of the pins on Pinhead’s head elicits an abjection-driven response among viewers, recognising the organised and controlled pain involved in BDSM culture. By following the gothic tradition of the combination of eroticism and pain, Barker presents characters who break from the traditional narrative through the form of breaking boundaries. Through the theme of abjection, the Cenobites threaten the physical and metaphorical protective barrier that humans create for themselves and thus evokes discomfort. The Cenobites problematically suggest that queer identities participate in non-consensual and dangerous sex. They, alongside Frank and Julia, all abuse their power in order to succumb to their desires. According to psychoanalytic theory, a fleshy, ‘stripped back’ Frank, who is all-consumed by his desire surrenders to his unconscious id.[14] Through the presentation of eroticism and pain as co-dependent via Frank’s character, it presents BDSM, or even the explicit enjoyment of sex, as extreme and repulsive.
The Cenobites can be reflective of the socio-historic context that Hellraiser was created in, including the homophobia of the Thatcher regime and the AIDS crisis throughout the 1980s. The implementation of anti-gay and lesbian rhetoric throughout the 1980s at the hands of Thatcher’s regime creates a culture of homophobia in which gay people are othered.[15] By this logic, Hellraiser mirrors this ostracization with the strong theme of abjection that runs throughout, directly involving the rejection of the other.[16] The traditional trope of homosexual men as being ‘predators and seducers who aim to pervert young children’ rings especially true with the Cenobites’ non-consensual attack on innocent protagonist Kirsty, who must fight and reject such advances. Against the backdrop of the AIDS crisis which ravaged Britain, the plotline that the Cenobites spread their evil to Frank and subsequently Julia, who then killed innocuous victims after being seduced, can reflect the trope that gay men perversely spread the HIV virus to unsuspecting targets. Through the pertaining theme of blood and gore throughout the ‘splatter’ film, particularly the scene in which the nails are dragged through Frank’s back, or in the existence of the Cenobites themselves, audience reception to abjection may induce the real-world homophobia of the 1980s. Improving on this further, the rejection or disgust at that which lives within and the need to expel it may reflect even internalised homophobia. The requirement to release those repressed desires in order for homosexuals to be ‘assimilated’ into society is explored with the uncanny and the eventual punishment of those who conform to queer ideals.[17] Ultimately, Hellraiser attempted to normalise queer identities, sex and eroticism through the medium of the abject, yet considering the socio-historic context that it was made in, it instead magnified the demonisation of homosexuality in the 1980s, instead providing some form of mirror for homophobia.
During Thatcher’s Britain, notions of female domesticity and the nuclear family dominated both popular discourse, home spheres and mainstream politics.[18] The nuclear family refers to a family comprising of two heterosexual parents and one or more child. I will consider the representation of the anxieties surrounding the destruction of the ‘nuclear family’ through the two main female characters: Julia and Kirsty. Firstly, Julia’s existence in Larry and Kirsty’s life as a ‘stepmother’ figure is an immediate rejection of the nuclear family structure in itself, and as such is demonised. In the first few scenes that Julia and Larry are introduced, while Larry is preparing for the move-in into their new house, Julia is looking at pictures of her ex- lover Frank in a sexual manner. The portrayal of Julia as selfish and unconcerned with family issues, such as moving to a new house, caves to the rhetoric that the imposition of a new woman would destroy all family values itself. Instead, Julia becomes a presentation of the subconscious id, who explores her desires without consciously thinking of her family. This theme continues when Julia has flashbacks to previous sexual encounters with Frank, while her husband struggles with the mattress and cuts his hand with the nail. The abjection of Larry’s blood, which eventually becomes Frank’s fleshy, gruesome self underneath the floorboards, is representative of a monster lurking beneath marriages that do not conform to the nuclear family structure. Julia and Frank’s ultimate demise is representative of the arching message of the film: stray from the nuclear family and you will be punished.
Secondly, Kirsty reflects the opposite side of the spectrum, and is heralded as innocent and the upholder of the nuclear family structure. In the initial scene, not only does Kirsty make her distaste of protagonist Julia abundantly clear, but, while Julia is looking at sexual images of Frank, Kirsty focusses on the Christian statues discarded outside the home. This represents the abandonment of traditional, Christian morals, which still held incredible importance within the context of Thatcher’s Britain. Conversely, Kirsty instead chooses to reject deviance and instead focus on the subjective ‘right’ path. In the same vein, Kirsty wears white clothing throughout the entirety of the film, which has angelic and innocent connotations, to represent her purity and heroine status in such a context. Freud’s theory that dreams were “the royal road” to the unconscious comes to light through Kirsty’s dream, which operates as a labyrinth for her subliminal thought. The ethereal imagery and the usage of the colour white aligns itself to Kirsty’s innocent exploration of her heteronormative sexuality. Such divergence from the other characters in the film, emphasised by the stark contrast in the colour scheme, rewards Kirsty for her abstinence from indulging in ‘queer’ sexual activities. The aforementioned scene in which Kirsty is in hospital and several blooming flowers appear is followed by Kirsty entering a womb-like structure to confront the Cenobites. When considering Kirsty’s journey throughout the film, vagina and maternal symbolism follows her throughout. Even the “chattering Cenobite” can conform to Freud’s vagina dentata theory.[19] The sprawling, uterine-like-structure of the pathway where Kirsty meets the Cenobites, provides a metaphor for Kirsty’s rebirth, which is required as a consequence of Julia lacking in maternal qualities. The archaic mother of the womb and the flower motif guides Kirsty into becoming the final girl figure, which will eventually lead her to victory.[20] This portrayal of good versus evil embedded within tropes given to those who conform to heterosexual norms and those who do not, ultimately bestows a condemnation of sexual liberation and queer identities.
Hellraiser’s interpretation of sexual liberation and queer identities is liminal: despite its intentions of normalising sexual liberation and queer identities, its integral and graphic depiction of such throughout does not celebrate these aspects in a wider context, instead
framing them as harmful tropes. Through the manipulation of the abject, the supernatural ‘other’ and allegorical anxieties, the protagonists are punished or rewarded accordingly. While Julia ascends successfully to womanhood with her boyfriend, Julia, Frank and Larry all meet their fated demise. The uncanny comes to the fore, suggesting that with the liberation of inner, darker desires comes a price. When analysing the Cenobites throughout the film, it is clear that they predominantly conform to the stereotype of gay or queer men as being inherently predatory and perverse by their nature, hence the abjection that follows them is representative of internalised and externalised homophobia. Equally, Hellraiser lends itself to sexist stereotypes of sexually liberated women, portraying Julia as corrupt and wanting to utilise her sexuality for perverse and villainous means, suggesting that a woman cannot own her sexuality without some form of ulterior motive, as suggested by Creed’s Monstrous-Feminine. The subliminal messages that infiltrated Hellraiser, whether conscious or not, became an outlet for a reflection of anxieties surrounding the AIDS crisis, Thatcher’s Britain and the destruction of the nuclear family in the UK in the 1980s. Though Hellraiser does not suggest categoric homophobic or sexist messages, it is rather the socio-historic context in which they were created and perceived that means that it does not embrace this display of divergence from heteronormality.
Notes
[1] Julia Kristeva, Simon Asa Mittman and Marcus Hensel (eds.), ‘“Approaching Abjection,” From Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection,’ in Classic Readings on Monster Theory: Demonstrare, Volume One (Leeds: Arc Humanities Press, 2018), p.69.
[2] Sigmund Freud, ‘The Uncanny,’ in The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud (London: Vintage, 2001), pp.1-21.
[3] Sigmund Freud and James Strachey, The Ego and the Id (London: Hogarth Press, 1962), pp. 12-65. 4 Laura Mulvey, Leo Brundy and Marshall Cohen (eds.) “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” in Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings (New York: Oxford UP, 1999) pp. 833-844. 5Harry Benshoff, Monsters in the Closet (Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 1997) p.231.
[4] Laura Mulvey, Leo Brundy and Marshall Cohen (eds.) “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,” in Film Theory and Criticism: Introductory Readings (New York: Oxford UP, 1999) pp. 833-844.
[5] Harry Benshoff, Monsters in the Closet (Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 1997) p.231.
[6] Barbara Creed, The Monstrous-Feminine: Film, Feminism, Psychoanalysis (London: Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group, 2015), pp.2- 5.
[7] Creed, Monstrous Feminine, p.3.
[8] Creed, Monstrous Feminine, pp.13-15.
[9] Sigmund Freud, ‘The Uncanny,’ in The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud (London: Vintage, 2001), pp.1-21.
[10] Mulvey, Brundy and Cohen (eds.), ‘Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema,’ p.838. [11] Carol J. Clover, Her Body, Himself: Gender in the Slasher Film (California: University of California Press, 1987) p.86.
[12] Paul Wells, Steve Chibnall and Julia Petley (eds.) British Horror Cinema Interviews, (2002), p.180. 13 Kristeva, ‘Approaching Abjection,’ pp.68-74.
[13] Kristeva, ‘Approaching Abjection,’ pp.68-74.
[14] Freud and Strachey, The Ego and the Id, pp. 12-65.
[15] Anna Marie Smith,‘The Imaginary Inclusion of the Assimilable “Good Homosexual:”The British New Right's Representations of Sexuality and Race.’ Diacritics, vol. 24, no. 2/3, 1994, pp. 58–70.
[16] Kristeva, 'Approaching Abjection', p. 72.
[17] Marie Smith, ‘The Imaginary Inclusion of the Assimilable “Good Homosexual,”’ p.64.
[18] Margaret Thatcher, Interview on Panorama, (1987), <https://learningonscreen.ac.uk/ondemand/index.php/prog/03091328?bcast=95413703> [Accessed 6 December 2020].
[19] Creed, The Monstrous-Feminine, pp.2-4.
[20] Creed, Monstrous Feminine, pp.16-29.
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