Think horror is a man's world? This documentary will scare you straight
lexandra Heller-Nicholas was only seven weeks old when she saw her first horror movie. Her aunt was babysitting, and decided to bring her to the cinema to see William Friedkin's The Exorcist. Heller-Nicholas believes this experience 'put her on the path' to horror.
Over the next few decades, the Melbourne-based film critic delved deep into the genre, delighting in classics such as Suspiria and Psycho – both of which she watched in secret (scary movies were forbidden in her household). But as her exploration of horror filmmaking continued, she found herself wondering the same thing again and again: where are all the women?
It's not that there haven't been any female creators. In fact, some of the earliest horror films were directed by women, such as Lois Weber's 1913 silent film Suspense. Women have long played a pivotal role in horror; it's just that few people appear to notice them.
'Many people might not even realise they've seen a woman-directed horror before. For example, Mary Harron's American Psycho (2000) and Mary Lambert's Pet Sematary (1989),' Heller-Nicholas says. 'Women's labour has historically been diminished and rendered invisible across the board, and horror is a perfect case study to demonstrate that.'
It's from this revelation that Heller-Nicholas' 1000 Women in Horror, 1895-2018 – an encyclopedic exploration of the many women who have shaped the genre – was born. The book, which landed in 2020, has now been developed into a documentary of the same name, which will play at the Melbourne International Film Festival later this month.
Directed by Canadian filmmaker Donna Davies, the documentary brings to light several female filmmakers, producers, actors and screenwriters previously relegated to the dark, including producer Sara Risher (A Nightmare on Elm Street), screenwriter Akela Cooper (M3GAN) and actor Lin Shaye (Insidious).
Like Heller-Nicholas, horror has appealed to Davies since childhood; she started a witchcraft club with her friends at the age of 10.
'What I love most is how [horror] serves as a cultural mirror – it reflects what society is truly afraid of at any given moment,' she says. 'It processes trauma, gives voice to the voiceless and provides catharsis. For women especially, horror has always been a space where we could explore rage, power and transformation in ways that weren't available to us in other genres.'
While making other horror-related documentaries, Davies became increasingly frustrated by the lack of recognition for women within the space.
'Somehow, when men made horror films, they were celebrated as visionaries. When women did it, they were dismissed as exploitation filmmakers or lucky accidents,' Davies says. 'There's also this uncomfortable truth that women's horror often focuses on very real fears – domestic violence, sexual assault, the horrors of childbirth and motherhood – subjects that make audiences, especially male audiences, genuinely uncomfortable.'
But it wasn't until Heller-Nicholas' book was released that Davies felt there was the evidence needed to open people's eyes.
To accomplish this, Davies structured the documentary around the female experience itself – girlhood, school years, adulthood, work life, maternal life and ageing. 'Each life stage brings different fears and different strengths, and we really wanted to honour that journey,' she says.
For example, school life is often associated with puberty, a sometimes horrifying experience explored in the documentary through films such as Ginger Snaps, written by Karen Walton. For some women, motherhood is a horror movie in itself. In the documentary, actor Kate Siegel (The Haunting of Hill House), compares her C-section to body horror films like Julia Ducournau's Titane.
'Women often bring a focus on psychological complexity over gore for its own sake. We're interested in the 'why' behind the horror, the emotional truth of fear,' Davies says. 'We understand that the most terrifying monsters aren't always the ones with fangs. Sometimes, they're the people at the office or sitting across from you at dinner.'
Mattie Do – a horror director from Laos – says that while the horror community has been more welcoming compared to others, most genre filmmakers are still men. She says she has to work 'triple hard' to be taken seriously.
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'I feel like I have to ... prove that I belong here as a filmmaker, that my works are worthwhile because of their merit, not just because I was born with certain chromosomes,' says Do, who has directed culturally-infused horror films such as The Long Walk.
Heller-Nicholas says things are improving. There are now several film festivals dedicated to women in horror, including Los Angeles' Etheria Film Festival, Wench Film Festival in Mumbai and Final Girls Berlin Film Festival.
Australia has also been something of a positive anomaly, she adds. 'We've been blessed by a really strong community of women filmmakers. People like Jennifer Kent with The Babadook have been hugely important. Natalie Erika James, who did Relic, is another one of our patron saints.'
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It goes back much further, she notes. Ann Turner made Celia in 1989, which was initially created as a drama but then distributed overseas as a horror. Fast-forward to today and you have filmmakers such as Alice Maio Mackay, a 21-year-old transgender woman who has already made six horror features, many of which have been picked up by international film festivals and streamers such as Shudder.
'Alice makes low-budget punk queer horrors that are tightly bound to her experience as a young transgender woman in Australia,' Heller-Nicholas says. 'She's not just a national treasure in terms of horror, there's nobody in the world doing what she's doing right now.'
Despite these success stories, Davies says more still needs to be done, beginning with placing more women in decision-making roles. This not only includes directors, but also producers, financiers and distributors because the stories that are told are determined by those who control the funding.
It's imperative that women's voices – including women of colour, LGBT women, trans women and women from different cultural backgrounds – are actively sought out across the board.
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Women's contributions also need to be taught, Davies says. 'When film schools teach horror history and leave out these voices, they're creating the next generation of gatekeepers who don't even know these women existed.'
Finally, Heller-Nicholas says people must realise it's not a matter of 'boys versus girls'. Neither her book nor the documentary were made to exclude or criticise men.
'From travelling the world and going to film festivals, I've found that men want to have these conversations as much as women do … The shared love of the genre transcends gender identity.'

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