By Glenn Dunks (who is currently counting down my top documentaries of the decade over on Twitter. Follow along!)
Horror movies are obviously an audience-beloved industry-entrenched part of the movie business. Even if the genre hasn’t always gotten the respect it deserves, horror has been a vital part in the cinematic stories for African American audiences and for queer audiences. These are, after all, viewers that have been ignored by the mainstream industry at large for as long as movies have existed. Minority audiences have often found the catharses and long-documented history of othered subtext of scary movies to be rare portals of release.
How great it is then to see two new documentaries Scream, Queen! My Nightmare on Elm Street and Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror focusing on these elements and offering glimpses into the complicated realm of what it is like to be a viewer and a creator in these spaces...
The two new docs take different tacts—Scream, Queen! is focused on the career of Mark Patton, derided star of the maligned Nightmare on Elm Street sequel, while Horror Noire is a decade-spanning dive into black representation in horror. Both films are resonant with detailed explorations of what the horror genre means to people and why it is an important space for minority voices.
Just from its title, you can get the sense of tone that Roman Chimienti and Tyler Jensen’s Scream, Queen! is taking. Much like its central figure, the documentary is proudly queer. Patton, the star of A Nightmare on Elm Street Part 2: Freddy’s Revenge, has every right to be, too, having ditched Hollywood in 1986 following the way his first lead role was mocked. In the film, he describes how he felt unwittingly pushed out of the sexual closet by a system that did not care about the consequences of its disposable production line mentality. Patton, like many gay men after those initial early years of sexual confusion, eventually found himself, and did so far away from the cameras, and is now a significantly visible queer face on the horror circuit within an industry that is still finding ways to be inclusive in respect to sexuality.
If audiences are wanting a historical charting of the Elm Street franchise, then this is not it. Try the superb four-hour Never Sleep Again from 2010 for that. But part of me does get a kick out of the thought that fans of the Freddy Krueger movies may turn Chimienti and Jensen’s film on and hear stories of HIV, trauma and heterosexual privilege (what a trio!). Likewise, queer audiences may relish the opportunity at seeing Patton confront the men responsible and find solace in the friendship of his fellow actors and the community that his story has helped bring together. Scream, Queen! allows audiences plenty of clips and interviews and behind-the-scenes footage of the conventions that Patton and his colleagues are now routine parts of, but it’s these insights into how Patton coped with being a casualty of homophobia that really makes the documentary become more than just Elm Street fan service.
Xavier Burgin’s Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror has been out for some time now, but it’s an appropriate watch during February, which is Black History Month: “Black horror is black history”, as one talking head describes it (hopefully I am not misremembering that quote!). Beginning with The Birth of a Nation, Burgin adapts the unfolding narrative of Robin R. Means Coleman’s non-fiction book Horror Noire: Blacks in American Horror Films from the 1890s to Present, covering most predominantly up to Jordan Peele’s Oscar-winning Get Out (which gets perhaps a bit too much attention at the expense of others).
Burgin and editors Horatiu Lemnei and Scott Strobel elegantly chart this history observing the buffoon-like caricatures of early horror, the near complete absence during the Atomic Age (because there were no black scientists or even lab assistants portrayed on screen), through to the iconic Night of the Living Dead, blaxploitation, the more cliché-riddled tropes of 1980s slashers (and the misunderstanding therein) and the more contemporary revivals like Candyman, Tales from the Hood, The Girl with All the Gifts and the aforementioned Get Out. Every viewer will no doubt have gripes about exclusions here or there; I would have loved to hear something scholarly about Scream 2, especially since they were already discussing Jada Pinkett in Tales from the Crypt: Demon Knight, but it goes unspoken about and seen only in a couple of clips).
What really allows Horror Noire to be more than just a mere history lesson, however, is the smart way that talking heads have been integrated. While there are a few whose academic knowledge justifiably sits alone, Burgin smartly allows most of his interviewees to sit amongst each other in pairs throughout a cinema set. As they watch clips, they revisit filmmaking anecdotes and discuss film themes that add so much dimension to its narrative. It is particularly clever considering horror films are so often a communal experience for audiences, whether it’s in a cinema of screaming patrons on the couch with friends or a loved one. That back-and-forth discussion not only enlivens the brisk runtime, but also allows for a deeper understanding of the very personal history that these films have had on generations of black moviegoers and filmmakers.
As the genre changes, so too does the society around it. Considering the new age of horror that we appear to be entering, it is refreshing and relevant to be reminded, or to learn for the first time, these histories.
Release: Scream, Queen! is plays from February 27th - March 4 in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Glendale Theater. It will then roll out nationally following this one week engagement and will also have a VOD release beginning on March 3 on all platforms including Apple TV, Amazon, Google Play, VUDU, etc. Horror Noire is currently available on Shudder and iTunes in some territories.
Oscar chances: Nah, neither are anywhere near Oscar's flavor. Although Scream, Queen! did win the GALECA Dorian Award for LGBTQ Documentary of the Year earlier this year.