Naur, Not Gore

BY AWAIS KHALIQ

Fifth or sixth row from the front, in the middle of the row but slightly to the right. That’s where I usually sit at the movies. B10 or C10, or E10 if it’s an especially busy night. Climbing up the Forum or Banque Scotia escalators, a safety net awaits you at the top, where the impending thermodynamics assignment and the many other worldly worries seem far away, even though only three storeys guard you against the terrors of Sainte-Catherine. The waft of popcorn covered in the nastiest butter known to humankind and the soda-encrusted chairs—there’s something special about all that. A few weeks ago, I felt the same homeyness as I entered Salle 09 to watch the marvelous Pearl (2022) by Ti West, sequel to X (2021).

A new-age slasher film, Pearl has a main character of the same name succumbing to her murderous impulses, picking off everyone who threatens her dreams of being a star, and a goose who honked too loud, I guess. With the production team and music composer underlining the setting of the film at the cusp of the Roaring Twenties, and an incredible performance by lead actress Mia Goth, I see few flaws with Pearl. Nonetheless, the slasher genre is a divisive one, and for very valid reasons. It has been plagued with prejudice and can normalise extreme violence, yet it also provides peace and often harmless excitement to so many audiences, so where do we draw a line?

If you want to know what slasher is at its very core, The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and the Halloween and Friday the 13th franchises are good places to start. Although slasher movies can trace their roots back to the 60s with the Italian Giallo movies and Alfred Hitchcock’s infamous Psycho, it wasn’t until the early 80s that it developed a true identity with a formula that would be used over and over again for years to come. The final girl, the favouring of short-range weapons, trauma as the motive for the killer, and stalking the victims are examples of key elements within this formula. The final girl trope enforces the idea that the only character to survive the killer’s rampage ought to be a girl—ideally, a virgin. Other problematic tropes also exist, such as the unspoken rule that a Black character can never survive. However, the quintessential reason why some people are turned off by slashers is rather because of the sheer scale of violence, and how it impacts the viewer.

For instance, one of the most controversial releases of the year has been Dahmer—Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story. This much-talked about series re-enacts the luring and killing of countless men, mostly queer Black and Brown men. Unfortunately, its sudden popularity has inspired many people to create disturbing content glorifying Dahmer. Whether it be a tweet hyping up his looks, or a TikTok cosplaying as him, it seems a select group of people have taken a liking to the serial killer. For example, this tweet I stumbled upon not too long ago:

Illustration by Naomi Askenazi

“GUYS THE WAY HE ASKS HES SO POLITE AND ADORABLE IM GNA CRY,” regarding an Interview Dahmer did with Inside Edition. To this, other users agreed: “HES ADORABLE IM CRYING OH MY GOD HIM,” writes user @DahmersDeadBF (now deactivated). “hes so adorable im gonna cry,” tweeted a user with a Richard Ramirez profile picture. Now, Twitter may be the shithole of the Internet, but Netflix has enabled users to glorify a monster and desecrate innocent queer men by creating a show which blurs the line between documentary and tribute.

In particular, the decision to have the narrative led by Jeffrey Dahmer may have led viewers astray. This creative direction put the victims on the sidelines when their suffering should have been centred, so viewers could truly understand the

scale of Dahmer’s crimes. He stole the lives of at least 17 men, and the series doesn’t insist on that nearly enough. Instead of showcasing how beautiful these people were, and how much their families suffered, crucial minutes are dedicated to showing Dahmer masturbating to roadkill. While it is essential to show just how messed-up he was, the victims also deserve detailing. They don’t deserve to be side characters because they were real people whose lives were cut short. So, a compromise should’ve been reached between the different stories at hand, but Netflix missed the target significantly. And shoving in a little police criticism at the very end did not gloss over all these issues. Not to mention, the creators didn’t bother consulting the victims’ families during the creation process. For some, watching Dahmer murder men may not have been an arduous task. It’s just a Netflix show they’re watching on their smartphone, but for others, including me, it’s so much more. As a queer Brown man, watching Monster was so mentally taxing that I had to watch it over a few weeks to avoid a mental breakdown. Many can’t relate to the fears of queer men, and that’s fine. However, choosing to ignore these fears is an issue. This show could’ve been a bridge between communities and stories, but instead, the direction Netflix chose is a hole in the ground that serves as food for the fantasies of weirdos. This is because Netflix has chosen to market true crime as entertainment instead of education, an error committed far too often nowadays.

Anyways, what does all of this have

Illustration by Naomi Askenazi

to do with Pearl? Well, the glorification of killing that Dahmer fans engage in has been considered one of the consequences of slasher movies. The main difference between true crime and slasher is that one is fictional while the other is very real. Regardless, why on Earth do people watch slasher movies? By keeping you on the edge of your seat, these flicks provide a distraction, if only for two hours. Moreover, therapist Alicia Clark states that “channelling everyday anxiety into something more focused and acute that’s about something and someone else, appears to offer some relief from what’s going on inside [you].” Hence, there are valid reasons why someone would seek out a gore-filled film. Regarding the trivialisation of suffering, the problem lies not with the slashers but with what you take from them. Going ahead and idolising serial killers is the wrong path, while harmlessly enjoying something that gives you relief from Calculus and existentialism is valid. This is not to say the genre has no shortcomings. Until recently, nearly all slasher movies were directed by White men who killed off all promiscuous characters and seldom represented characters of colour. But Pearl, along with other recent developments in the genre, have shown they strive to get rid of outdated tropes. This initiative is lacking in true crime, and all you need is a look on social media to see the repercussions.

By the way, if you dress up as Jeffrey Dahmer for Halloween, you are very weird. Be smart, dress up as Pearl! ◆

BY BIANCA DUBOIS

TW: Genocide, Rape, Violence, Death, Abuse, Self-Harm, and Substance Abuse.

In this article I will give my thoughts on The Poppy War Trilogy by R.F. Kuang. This triumphant series begins with the titular book and Kuang’s debut novel, The Poppy War, followed by The Dragon Republic and The Burning God. This dark fantasy trilogy is inspired by Chinese history and takes place in an fantastical nation called Nikan. It draws explicitly from the Second Sino-Japanese War, the Song dynasty, and the Chinese Civil War, highlighting the Rape of Nanking and Unit 731. However, this series also covers Chinese politics, theology, colourism, philosophy, and provides commentary on Western imperialism and colonialism. It is a sweeping and heart-wrenching trilogy that presents a nuanced dialogue on Asian history and culture, and does a beautiful job of opening a conversation about atrocities that have occurred. The Poppy War’s protagonist, Rin, is written as an anti-hero during the series and undergoes a strong character arc. She is based on Mao Zedong, one of the most controversial figures in Chinese history. We begin with Rin, who is an orphan from a previous colonial war, studying

for the Keju national exam to get into a top military academy and escape both her rural village in the South and her abusive family. She succeeds in getting into a top academy. However, she immediately faces discrimination based on class and colorism from her peers and teachers. Rin perseveres with her studies and begins to make some friends among the other students. In addition, she cultivates a relationship with an eccentric prof who takes her on as his student. With him, she uncovers her gift for shamanism and grows more comfortable in school and the capital. All of a sudden, civil war breaks out and Rin is forced Photo from amazon.ca to question the world she lives in, using her abilities to fight for what she believes. It is impossible to agree with Rin’s decisions and actions during her fight in the war, but it is equally impossible not to empathize with her struggles and root for her success. I will not go into the plot of The

Photo from Bianca Dubois

Dragon Republic and The Burning God because it is difficult to do so without giving away major spoilers for the first book. However, these novels follow the aftershocks of the conflicts within The Poppy War. These sequels examine the effects of colonialism and religious conversion of Nikan in a fascinating way. Kuang did a fantastic job at growing each character in ways that seemed genuine to themselves. None of the characters are meant to be likeable; nonetheless, you can’t help but grow fond of them along their journey and root for their triumphs. Moreover, Kuang’s writing continuously improves throughout the series as she gains more and more skill in her craft. history and, specifically, whose history I have learned about in school and pop culture. Before reading The Poppy War, I only knew a basic overview of Asian history. However, this series sucked me into its world and got me to research more about the historical context of the stories. I initially rated The Poppy War 3/5 stars due to my issues with Rin’s actions during the novel. However, months later, the story still sticks with me and I kept returning to it, so I surprisingly decided to raise it to 5/5 stars. The sequels also receive 5 stars from me and this trilogy will go down as one of my favourites of all time. However, I would not recommend this series of books to everyone due to the heavy topics and triggers within its pages. Nonetheless, it was a beautiful read and an important reckoning on Asian history and identity. I cannot wait to read more of her books, starting with Babel, or the Necessity of Violence: an Arcane History of the Oxford Translators’ Revolution, released in August 2022.

“If you hold the fate of the country in your hands, if you have accepted your obligation to your people, then your life ceases to be your own.”

– R.F. Kuang, The Poppy War ◆