Sunday, October 3, 2021

Not Just a Villain: Disability and Capitalism Among Horror Antagonists in Film

 



Disability, whether in its visible (physical) or invisible (mental illness) forms, have always had minimal representation in popular culture; save one genre: Horror. This specific genre accounts for an overabundance of disability imagery, especially among the antagonists of the stories. Whether they be dream demons, disgruntled campers, orchestral menaces, or a wide variety of malevolent spirits, curses, or other beasties; disability is often used as a shorthand in storytelling to convey villainy.  It is through the popularity and profitability of these stereotypical images of disability, (because horror films are often cheap to make and have a strong return on investment), which allow them to be continually disseminated throughout our American Culture. Using the Sociological and Disability Perspectives, this paper will examine the intersecting points of disability and capitalism among horror antagonists; to understand the value of disability stereotypes in horror (and its possible subversion) while concurrently maintaining the image of middle-class whiteness as normal through its genre’s protagonists.

 


HISTORICL CONTEXT 

Bourdieu’s forms of Capital[1]

The basic Marxian critique of Capitalism is its tendency to operate from the profit motive. The idea that within the capitalist market, profit is the most important factor. The drive for capitalism to be deregulated is because of this desire for profit. Usually, this profit is satisfied through economic capital (Money). Yet, as Bourdieu (1987) points out, there are additional forms of value, that too, can be “profitable” within the system of capitalism. These forms of capital “function as a social relation of power that become objects of struggle as valued resources (Swartz 1997: 73-74).

Cultural Capital is the value of knowledge skills and experiences within a particular social situation. This type of capital can be acquired individually (through personal experiences and independent reading/research) or collectively as a part of a larger structural mechanism of order and socialization (Schools). This is the value we place on “what people know.”

Social Capital is the value of your social relationships with in a particular social situation. A lot of the social capital that people build and develop, are determined by the power dynamics and how those dynamics shift with every situation. As Foucault (1999) notes, power resides in relationships, which makes power fluid between individuals within different social situations.

Symbolic Capital is the value of one’s identity and perceived demographics; as they create avenues or barriers to resources, privileges, and opportunities based upon the perceived value assigned through cultural and social norms. It is the development, manipulation, and organization of various social systems, which create various forms of privileges for some groups, while simultaneously creating stratification and discrimination for others.

Symbolic Violence is the process by which these unequal understandings are internalized by marginalized populations; to define themselves and others in their assigned group. Thus, they define themselves by the standards those that can define and influence public perception set for them.

Erotic/Sexual Capital[2]: is the value of an individual based on their ability to subscribe and achieve Socio-historic and cultural beauty/body norms in the eyes of others. According to Green (2008), this is the process by which an individual or group acquires and accumulates behaviors and characteristics that generate sexual desire in others. Some of this may be achieved through genetic predispositions and hereditary, while others can be achieved through diet, exercise, beauty products and surgeries, based upon socio-cultural beauty norms established within a particular society (Green 2008). Green (2008) also states that even though the cultural messages surrounding beauty are often consistent, not only can these messages change based upon the differences in social and historical context, a lot of what generates desire is subjective. Therefore, some have argued that Erotic Capital is more so a function of the field (a social space where capital is obtained through the performance of a particular habitus) rather than a different form of capital. However, this, and the other forms of capital, become an important factor in looking at the relationship between disability and capitalism among Horror antagonists. Much of this relationship can be attributed to a variety of disability stereotypes, created in the silent movie era by renowned character actor Lon Cheney, and his ilk.    

 


Disability Stereotypes in Horror  

According to Norden (1993), most films have alienated disabled characters from able bodied peers through “Otherness”; a process that reduces the disabled (and additional marginalized groups) to objectifications of pity, fear, and scorn (1). This leads to inaccurate disability representations on screen so abysmal, that even when Disabled people are featured, the disabled do not see themselves reflected in these depictions. This began early in film history through the silent era, where a variety of disability stereotypes got their start, brought to prominence by the work of Lon Cheney and his contemporaries in the early 20th century. These roles became instrumental to the horror genre, and the depictions of disability there in (Norden 1993).

Beginning his career in 1913, character actor Lon Cheney became known as “The man with a thousand faces”, for his ability to morph into different characters with a variety of physicalities; by using make up, costumes and prosthetics.  The years long partnership between Cheney and director Charles Browning, a man who admittedly was both fascinated and repelled by physically disabled people, shaped the public perception of disability on film.  It was through these early films that disability became intertwined with the Horror Genre. The solidification of which came with 1923’s Hunchback of Notre Dame in which Cheney played Quasimoto (Norden 1993).

During the production of Hunchback, Cheney put “himself in extreme discomfort for three months. He wore forty pounds of molded rubber on his chest and back held in place by a thirty-pound harness… [and a costume] of animal hair” (Norden 1993:90).  Praise for this “transformation” and the physical toll it took on Cheney’s body, is one of the first instances of a non-disabled person achieving notoriety for playing a disabled character. Something that would eventually become an industry standard (more on that later).  Cheney’s performance was so compelling, that even though average ticket prices at the time were around 50 cents, people were willing to pay in upwards of $1.65 in order to see “Cheney contort his way through the title role” (Norden 1993:90).

Throughout his career, Cheney would play hundreds of disabled characters, and helped to manufacture one of the prominent disability stereotypes in film, The Obsessive Avenger”. The Obsessive Avenger is typically “an adult male who will not rest until he has had his revenge on those he holds responsible for his disablement; and/or violating his moral code in some way (Norden 1993: 52). While this was first popularized by Cheney in Hunchback, the stereotype has enjoyed a consistent reproduction in several film genres. In horror, this stereotype often surfaces in the “Slasher” sub-genre. Many of the horror antagonist, especially those depicted in the late 70’s early 80’s horror films, are getting revenge on those he believes wronged him in some way, whether those “avengers” are wearing a hockey mask, or scary gloved garden sheers. Yet, the longevity of this horror staple is due to Lon Cheney. An actor whose work in retrospect might be more aptly described as “man of a thousand disabilities” (Norden 1993:74).    



 

SOCIAL ANALYSIS

Why Horror Matters to the Perception of the Disabled Identity

According to Kristeva (1982), we assimilate and are socialized to ideas of defilement and repugnance within our society, that once internalized, becomes biologically deterministic through the actions of stomach spasms, vomiting, perspiration, increased heartbeat and crying.  It is the horror genre, which peddles in this defilement and debauchery, eliciting feelings of fear and repugnance in the audience. By using the various images of the disabled to achieve this, results in the disabled being representative of that desecration. The disabled become the embodiment of abstraction within the genre; the immoral sinister scheming and shady…a terror that disassembles (Kristeva 1982:4). Thus, when people experience and interact with the disabled after internalizing these messages from the horror genre, they ultimately experience culture shock along with the same biologically deterministic manifestations of their revulsion.

This revulsion is illustrated in the moments nondisabled people meet physically disabled people on the street. They often gawk, exclaim, and create an intrusive row, reproducing what they have learned through the reproduction of disability repudiation within horror.  Thanks to this depiction, we disabled are the abhorrent possibilities of the body that have been manufactured as a malignancy upon society.

According to Kristeva (2010):

“Disability confronts [Non-disabled persons] with the limits of life, with the fear of deficiency…disability therefore awakens a catastrophic anxiety that intern leads to defensive reactions of rejection, indifference or arrogance, when not the will to eradicate by euthanasia.” (33)

Through this prism, the disabled are the cautionary tales of abnormal social and cultural behavior for non-disabled people. We become horror for them, real life boogeymen. Think about the way people recoil in disgust and fear from burn victims because they’ve been saturated with images of Freddy Kreuger’s malevolence; or are paralyzed with shock and fear in front of a person with Spina bifita, because they have seen The Grudge or The Ring. Horror becomes the socialization mechanism by which non-disabled experience disability the most. This results in Horror films becoming a social learning tool, that is not refuted and corrected through common everyday interactions nondisabled people have with the disabled. This is because for many, the disabled are not the non-disabled’s doctors, teachers, or lawyers. The only way we are seen for most non-disabled people, is through the depictions they see on screen. This becomes problematic when most images non-disabled people see of the disabled is in the context of a horror film. This association becomes further complicated with the use of disabled actors in these roles, or contortionists, and other flexibly trained individuals, to depict the arbitrative images. There is also something tragically ironic the way that the industry will choose extremely athletic bodies, with the ability to distort and warp their form into ways depicting disability, rather than hire those with disabilities themselves.

The “Subversion” of Disability in Horror  

All depictions of disability malice in Horror films obfuscates the horrific realities of violence against disabled people, including the frequency of abuse from caregivers and family members. Unlike the gluttonous number of images establishing disability as perpetrators of horror violence, the truth is that they are almost always the victim (Hall 2016). Thus, with a subtle shift of focus from the individual to the group or collective, we can understand that the notions of horror and disability can be recontextualized through the social model of disability; resulting in the horror being the system in which the disabled live within, rather than the disabled themselves.

Foucault (1999) recontextualizes “Monstrosity”, often used as an adjective for disability, in its existence and form to be a violation of societal laws and the laws of nature; highlighting it is the way that these systems (particularly the law and medical fields) perceive, interpret, and impose themselves on the disabled, categorizing them as other, and aberrations of the non-disabled allowing for their normalization. 

One of the first Ambiguities is that the monster is the breach of the law that automatically stands outside of the law…the monster falls under what in general terms could be called the framework of politico-judicial powers [that is] a transgression of the natural limit, of the law-table, to fall under or in any rate challenge an interdiction of civil and religious or divine law…. Disability is not monstrosity because it has a place in civil or cannon law…Monstrosity, therefore, is simply an irregularity, a slight deviation, but one that makes possible something that really will be a monstrosity [The monstrosity of systems] (p56-73)

 

Hall (2016) points out that if we use the social model of disability[3], which focuses on how the environment contributes to, and exacerbates impairments, in our analysis of horror films, this can subvert a lot of the disability stereotypes in horror films, shifting from the malevolence of a specific disabled person to the evil of a broken system. This can function to humanize horror antagonists, and instead, identify the society and its systems as the real villain (Hall 2016).

 In newer Horror films of the late 2010-2020’s, there has been a visible shift away from the singularly malicious individual disabled villain; replaced by social ills that impose themselves on individuals throughout various social mechanisms. Particularly, the horror films of Jordan Peele depict the cancer of racism and classism in brilliant allegories on slavery, rape, and labor exploitation.  Yet, even in these films that take a more social approach; the otherness of the antagonists, allegorical to various inequities or not, is still physically represented by deformity and disability. Whether that being burned, or not having the ability to speak (as in Us) or a skin disease being representative of the corruption of evil (Candyman 2021) disability instead of representing internal maliciousness and lack of morality as it has in the past, in the more recent horror films, disability is instead used as an allegory for the corruption of a broken social system. This gets further complicated when these new horror films successfully provide strong social commentary that reforms and rationalizes the horror antagonists’ actions. Thus, the film, to maintain a villain status for their disabled antagonist, must make them eviler than the unequal mechanisms that created them.

An example of a film franchise that doubles down on the wicked virulence of its disabled antagonist, above the social conditions they contend with; is the Don’t Breathe franchise. Norman Nordstrom is a blind Military vet (Played by non-disabled actor Stephen Lang) who is beset in his home by delinquents that break in looking to steal his valuables. Throughout the majority of the first film’s first two acts, audiences are siding with Norman as he dispatches the intruders in self-defense. However, in order to have the audience begin to identify with the protagonists, and follow the final girl trope , the film has a third act reveal of Norman eventually killing a young girl, who he had previously restrained and raped in order to produce and replace the daughter that he lost in a car accident.   

Unfortunately, as the examples above attest, the subversion of disability through horror is only changing the allegory of the impairment used when depicting disabled antagonists in horror films. Rather than a representation of immorality and evilness, new horror films use the disabled body to comment on social inequality, stratification, and other ills. This conversation with the horror audience through its antagonists, while more nuanced than in the horror films of the past, are still playing out on the bodies of disabled people, which does not change the perception of disabled people, only what they are now representing in the current social and political context.   

 


The relationship between Capitalism, Horror and Disability

            Horror, Disability and Financial Capital

            There is an understanding in the filmmaking industry, that Horror films are often cheap to produce, but always make money. Many well renowned and celebrated directors, from James Cameron, Stephen Spielberg, Brian De Palma, Jon Carpenter, Karyn Kusama, Sam Raimi, and David Cronenberg to David E. Kelley, M. Night Shyamalan and James Wan have all started out in the horror genre. It is a Hollywood understanding that if you make a well received horror film cheaply, you can usually secure your next film project.  This near “sure thing” profitability leads to the Blumhouse model of filmmaking. The film production company of Jason Blum, Blumhouse Productions, has formulized the profitability of the horror film. By keeping the budgets of the film relatively low (between 10-15 million dollars) the primal desire of feeling fear in an entertaining way, allows for the ballooning of profits through the domestic and international markets. Ma, a 2019-Blumhouse release starring Octavia Spencer, had a poultry budget of 5 million dollars with a return of 65 million.  Halloween (2018) with a budget of just over 10 million dollars, grossed 255 million, whereas The Invisible Man (2019) with a budget of 7 million dollars grossed over 147 million. Even during economic and industry down turns, Horror films have always been able to survive through there adherence to the most basic of capitalist principles: cheap costs and high profits. Unfortunately, the adherence to a particular formula (especially a capitalistic one) results in a fall back upon some of the disability tropes that were popularized by Lon Cheney at the turn of the 20th century. Thus, many of these popular and profitable films are continually ingrained with the common disabled trope of “The Obsessive Avenger” well into the 21st century.             

The Cultural and Social Capital of Horror and Disability

            Because of the profitability of the horror genre in general, and the stereotypes of disability that go along with it, many disabled actors often find themselves in horror films. For example, actor Warwick Davis, born with a rare form of Dwarfism, must develop forms of cultural and social capital unique to his disability, parlaying it into a career in horror, science fiction and fantasy films. Davis has been the titular Leprechaun in its film franchise spanning 10 years (1993-2003). Additionally, several disabled people have cultivated social capital through organizations, companies, and subsects of various trade unions, to assist with accessibility issues and discrimination claims.

Regardless of this social capital support, the cultural value of disability experience (disability capital) is not valued, as most depictions of disability are often portrayed by non-disabled actors. Not only is this maintaining disability stereotypes (through inaccurate portrayals by non-disabled people) but it is often reinforced through the high probability of those roles being rewarded by critics, academies and associations alike. The data shows (see link) that a disabled role increases the likelihood of a non-disabled actor’s win to nearly 50%.  The message here is clear, audiences do not want to understand the actual disability experience. They would much rather experience it through the filter of a non-disabled actor, whose portrayal is easier for them to swallow.

The normalization of non-disabled actors playing disabled characters also reinforces the nonvalue of sexual or erotic capital of the disabled body.  The body presentation of non-disabled people in disabled roles gives a false perception of what disabled bodies look like. This maintains that sexual attraction and sexuality only be understood through the prism of the non-disabled; especially if the role they are portraying is of a disabled person.  This also reinforces the stereotype that people with disabilities are not sexual beings, that they do not have sex or sexual desires.  Pornstar Academic Loree Erickson (2013) states that our culture is so saturated by images that narrowly define sex and the desirability of bodies, that most disabled people are excluded. “Shame is often deployed as a political resource that some people [usually non-disabled] use to isolate others [usually disabled people]” (Erickson 2013:323).  If Disabled people are the protagonists in horror films, it is assumed that they will not survive. They will be the subject of a supernatural entity’s ire, sacrifice themselves, or if they do miraculously survive, it is usually through luck, and or neglect from the film’s antagonist. They also are not depicted as being sexually desirable (a common trope especially for women in the Horror genre), nor are they often the hero. 

The one minor exception to this non heroic trope of the disabled is in the A Quiet Place duology, where the secret to defeating the aliens is found in the feedback created by one of the main character’s hearing aids.  While this avoids the typical disability trope in horror films of the disability representing the immorality and malevolence of the antagonist, and the character, Regan Abbot is welcomely portrayed by deaf actress Millicent Simmons, it falls into one of the other disability tropes in film known as the “Super Crip”; that by the nature of being disabled, a character has a special ability that allows them an advantage against the antagonist at some point in the film.            

 


Symbolic Capital and a Marxian Reading of the Slasher Horror Genre.

One of the lesser-known points of Marx’s critique of Capitalism, is that a lot of the social norms and values we become socialized to, internalize, and pass down from one generation to another, is a part of a larger system of social control to maintain the labor force.  We’ve witnessed this with the internalized cultural and social norms of homeownership, courtship rituals, processes of entering the institution of marriage, and the workforce being a conduit for healthcare, measurement of success, and a source of identity self-fulfillment.

The media as one of the agents of socialization, and more narrowly film, has contributed to these values and ideals by propagating them in entertaining forms of easily digestible content; which allow for the labor force, and several different institutions, to remain populated. It is through TV and film that we recruit soldiers into the military, keep and bring in politicians into office with campaign advertisements, and religious institutions afloat through Sunday programming. However, it is the economy that the media supports the most; not only through the direct production and consumption of content which accounts for the Billions of our 7 trillion GDP, but in the way in which the media reinforces and helps to reproduce the labor force. All of the important cultural norms in maintaining and reproducing the labor force (Homeownership, marriage, and the value of the workforce) are presented in almost all media content, regardless of genre. However, it is the Horror Genre that is the most subtle in its re-creation of these norms.

The typical arc of a horror film, or film franchise (especially the slasher sub-genre) begins with the depiction of a white middle to upper class utopia of capitalism. While they may create some nuances of class and racial differences between their protagonists, it is usually this idealism that is returned to, or at least attempted to be returned to, by the end of the film.  The second act usually disrupts the idyllic capitalist utopia (at least at the individual level) by causing the protagonists to reevaluate their life in the context of an antagonist threat. The antagonist is usually not only a disabled person presented in horrific fashion, but they are often representations of the lower class or manifestations of the class fears felt by the protagonists. However, by film’s end, the middle/upper class white capitalist utopia is upheld through the eradication of its lower class disabled villain, if only for a time.  All of the classic Slasher antagonists from Freddy, Jason, and Michael to newer versions like GhostFace from the Scream franchise (in which Wes Craven is leaning on the Horror tropes he set decades earlier), follow this model. They reproduce the symbolic capital of whiteness and middle to upper class norms in their resolution of the story by a return to the idyllic setting (outside of a stinger for the next film in the franchise) of a white capitalist utopia through the annihilation of a disable antagonist; while also eliminating any or all protagonists of color.    While thankfully the trope of Black death in horror films is changing, and there are some slasher films that are attempting to recontextualize Black pain (Candyman 2021), The disabled are still left behind to be the general antagonist, or the thing of nightmares, for every new generation that watches these films, or repackages them into new content.




CONCLUSION

            The intersections of disability and capitalism among horror antagonists point to a film culture that reinforces dangerous disability stereotypes generated in the early part of the 20th century with continual reproduction through the new millennium. While there have been attempts to subvert the horror genre from many of its own tropes, disability is still used as a framing device for immorality, debauchery, and malevolence. The maintenance of disability in this way generates various forms of capital, whether that be the financial capital acquired by the studios that produce horror films, or the cultural and social capital of the perception of disability in the larger society. All of this results in a mechanism of social control, that through each horror film, seeks to validate and reproduce a white capitalist Utopia for the purposes of maintaining the labor force.  While it is disconcerting that, once again, the relationship between disability and capitalism results in the alienation and exploitation of Disabled people in yet another industry, perhaps if we have more Disabled people produce content, especially in the horror genre, then the stories that are told about the Disabled, even those with bile, blood, brains, and viscera, will be more accurate, and thus, be far more compelling than what we have now.

 

REFERENCES

 

Bourdieu, Pierre 1987. Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste. New York: Harvard University Press  

 

Erickson, Loree 2013. “Out of Line: The Sexy Femmegimp Politics of Flaunting It.” In The Feminist Porn Book: The Politics of Producing Pleasure eds. Tristan Taormino, Celine Parrenas, Constance Penley, Mireille Miller Young. New York: The Feminist Press.

 

Foucault, Michel 1999. Abnormal: Lectures at the College De France 1974-1975. New York: Picador.

 

Green, Adam I. 2008. “The Social Organization of Desire: The Social Field’s Approach.” In Sociological Theory 26 (1) pp25-50.

 

Hall, Malinda 2016. “Horrible Heroes: Liberating Alternative Visions of Disability in Horror.” In Disability Studies Quarterly 36 (1) retrieved at  https://dsq-sds.org/article/view/3258/4205 Retrieved on 9/28/2021

 

Kristeva, Julia 1982. Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection Trans. Leon S. Roudiez New York: Columbia University Press.

 

________ 2010. Hatred and Forgiveness.  Trans. Jeanine Herman New York: Columbia University Press.

 

Norden, Martin 1993. The Cinema of Isolation: A History of Physical Disability in the Movies. New Jersey: Rutgers University Press.

 

Swartz, David 1997. Culture and Power: The Sociology of Pierre Bourdieu. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.   



[1] Originally from Bourdieu’s Fantastic book called Distinction

[2] An offshoot of Bourdieu’s original forms of capital this controversial idea has been bastardized by Catherine Hakim defining this as a personal asset afforded to women through gender socialization. However, a feminist reading of this points to the basic idea that women have been taught to use their erotic capital as a tactic to access resources and power which are usually barred (usually by white men). Thus, it is another form of social control to fracture women’s social power. Additionally, women are taught to establish confidence only though their erotic capital, and from that erotic capital more access and power will come, which maintains their marginalization.[2] https://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/what-the-ideal-womans-body-looks-like-in-18-countries_us_55ccd2a6e4b064d5910ac3b0

 

[3] which states that an individual’s environment and social surroundings can cause, define, or exaggerate a person’s impairment.  This is done in many ways throughout the social world. According to the social model, an impairment does not become a disability until there is a limit to access to resources, identifiers, and support. Thereby, a society disables a person when it fails to provide adequate support needed for adequate existence within a culture

There are the limits of personal access to buildings, parks and other public places, give opportunities or created barriers for work, education and social participation (bio-power). A lack of accommodations (captioning, sign language interpreters, brail in libraries   It can create a culture that vilifies disabled or condemns them as being subhuman in need of support and pity reinforcing old and new types of discrimination and stigma. By removing individualizing and stigmatizing representations of disability instead representing disabled people as a minority group and having equal rights under such distinction