How M3gan reigns over true-crime villains

ELIZA POWERS

This column contains spoilers for “M3gan.”

There’s a scene in the newlyreleased movie “M3gan” when M3gan, the newest glossy, Audrey Hepburn-slash-Chucky killer doll, lures a neighbor’s dog to a ruthless slaughter. There’s perhaps nothing more cinematically American or easily readable than the tragedy of a dog’s death in a movie. Yet, as the score swells, and M3gan’s glossy Mary Janes tiptoe towards her prey, we can’t help but hold our breaths, excitedly anticipating the slaughter — after all, the dog did just bite the eight-year-old main character, Cady. In just one scene, Gerard Johnston’s “M3gan,” a gloriously campy, surprisingly queer ride, has subverted one of the most recognizable American cinematic tropes: that a dog’s death equals tragedy.

This is M3gan’s power: while we are ultimately satisfied at her demise, we cheer her on at pivotal moments. “You should probably run,” she eerily taunts the schoolyard bully with her girly, singsongy voice, before bear-crawling towards him at full speed like some kind of rabid spiderdog. M3gan wears a glossy handkerchief, knows Tik Tok dances, sings “Titanium” to a grieving Cady, played by Violet McGraw of “The Haunting of Hill House.”

M3gan is easy to root for; the modern day girlboss has become an instant staple in the queer community. Erik Piepenburg writes for The New York Times on M3GAN’s subtle gayness, describing a scene when “M3gan enters a room and pointedly removes her sunglasses, as if she’s Miranda Priestly surveying her panicked minions.” M3gan has been claimed not because of