Like it or not, we are living in the grief-and-trauma-as-horror era. It’s the basis of a bulk of popular horror films such as Hereditary (and every other Ari Aster film), The Babadook and even It (you’ll never guess what the scary clown is a metaphor for!). There’s a reason horror creators and fans are so obsessed with these themes: Grief and trauma can often feel much more menacing, more grotesque than any oozing monster.
One of the most recent, most conspicuous entries into this subgenre, From Black, follows Cora (Anna Camp), a recovering drug addict grieving the sudden disappearance of her small child, Noah (Eduardo Campirano). Things start to look up for Cora when the leader of her grief counseling group, Abel (John Ales), tells her that he knows a way to bring Noah back. All she has to do is stand, chained to the ground in the middle of a ring of salt, while he recites mysterious verses in another language. What could go wrong?
Read more in Paste.
If there’s one certainty amidst the chaos of puberty, it’s that you’re going to feel misunderstood. Misunderstood by your friends, your siblings, your sex ed teacher and, above all, by your parents. Indeed, when you start to undergo those pesky physical and emotional changes, it inevitably feels as though no one on this godforsaken planet can empathize with what you’re going through–that is, of course, unless you’re lucky enough to stumble across a Judy Blume book.
Rising to popularity in the 1970s, Blume was one of the first young adult authors to actually confront the nitty gritty of puberty—to write casually about breast size, periods, female masturbation. But the beauty of Blume lies foremost in the fact that, when you’re an angsty young girl, opening a Blume book feels like someone putting their hand on your shoulder and simply saying, “I understand.” For the first time, it feels like they actually do.
Read more in Paste.
Contributor Paste Magazine, Film School Rejects, Consequence, Looper, & Screen Slate. First cow in the territory.