By GABRIELLA FOOR
Horror cinema has depicted mentally ill characters in a variety of ways for over a century now. While there are obvious strides in the right direction, with recent films delivering nuanced portrayals, we still have a long way to go. Horror was where I found a home for my insecurities about my various diagnoses, burying myself in the dark images on screen and recounting which behaviors from the traumatized characters I most related to. A gateway to understanding, horror naturally focuses on confronting our most uncomfortable feelings about death, illness and fear, making it a perfect vehicle to convey the often strange and dark messages that mental health carries.
For now, I don’t want to discuss the triumphs I’ve seen in horror but the tropes that envelop the mentally ill, how labels and diagnoses influence how we think of others and how horror outright turns these conditions into a device for violence. While I’ve often found solace in the genre, dosing myself with fear in controlled measure and exploring the artistic ways people like myself can be portrayed, I also felt an immense weight when I saw these somewhat biased portrayals.
The Babadook – Neurodivergence
The hatred that I saw towards this character of Samuel and the performance of Noah Wiseman was so intense that I saw calls for a child’s death in Reddit threads discussing The Babadook. Samuel is a divisive character from the start, and as his behaviors escalate, it becomes clear that audiences don’t have the tolerance to accept Samuel and his mannerisms. Neurodivergence isn’t a medical condition or diagnosis per se. The term usually focuses on the differences between non-neurotypical people and their counterparts, focusing on contrasts in behavior, function and ability (1). I use this term because it describes Sam’s symptoms of meager social skills, being overwhelmed by stress or a lack of set routine and fits of uncontrollable frustration or discomfort. In addition to Autism Spectrum Disorder’s presence on the list of possible conditions that fall under neurodivergence, Samuel’s seizure in the movie lines up with epilepsy symptoms that may appear in some patients with Autism Spectrum Disorder (2).
Samuel is undoubtedly a complex child, but The Babadook zooms in on his mother Amelia’s (Essie Davis) struggles and leaves Sam with no support network and no doctor to give an official diagnosis of his “significant behavioral problems.” Samuel’s episodes of screaming and kicking wildly, are alarming and upsetting to anyone – but the movie fails Samuel, giving him sleeping pills instead of maternal comfort or a productive outlet for his stress other than weaponry. His functionality also lines up with someone who has Autism Spectrum Disorder. Samuel is a little inventor, fashioning homemade weapons from items around the house like an elementary school engineer. His cognition and ingenuity are unquestioned, as is his intense anxiety surrounding his desperate need to protect his mother. In her frustration, she cries out, “Why can’t you just be normal!” a heartbreaking thing for any child to hear who knows they’re different.
Samuel embraces his gifts and attempts to use them to defend Amelia, and in return, the school labels him a danger to the other children – and his mother snaps. A widely misunderstood term and character, this showed me how intolerant people can be, even for the duration of a film, to accept a character who doesn’t behave in a way we deem acceptable. This is one reason why there is a call from the disability community to not just have consultants on set for these features but to allow people with real-life experience with the conditions portrayed to work in front of and behind the camera to give the most accurate account of a day in the life. We don’t often see behavior like this in film, and the vitriol and annoyance of audiences showed that they weren’t used to seeing portrayals of children with special needs. This rejection is proof that there needs to be more inclusion. Those hateful threads are still up, but now with some advocates for Samuel chiming in to declare that the hate goes too far.
Split and Psycho – Dissociative Identity Disorder
Two famous fictional killers from different periods, commanded by two very different directors share the same remarkable diagnosis of dissociative identity disorder (DID). One of several dissociative disorders, it is characterized by two or more identities or alters being present in the same body, accompanied by changes in thinking, memory or behavior. Involuntary shifts, lost time and a disrupted social or occupational life might also be symptoms as well as a feeling that you are outside your body (3). A feature that’s also generally present in most DID patients is severe childhood trauma. Nearly 90% of patients with this condition report that they were victims of repeated and continued childhood abuse or neglect, and nearly 70% have reported attempting suicide (3). We are generally both in awe and in shock at the possibility someone could have multiple versions of themselves. However, horror often takes the disorder and spins it into something frightening rather than tragic.
Kevin Wendell Crumb (James McAvoy) from M. Night Shyamalan‘s Split and Norman Bates from Alfred Hitchcock‘s Psycho suffered at the hands of their mothers as children, likely causing the development of this condition in addition to previous risk factors. Kevin is a much more extreme case than Norman, supposedly housing two dozen identities within him, with his final identity being the most dominant and unpredictable. Personalities war against each other in small groups. Some, like Patricia and Dennis, two clever and manipulative alters, support the role of “The Beast,” an avenging angel to protect Kevin and deliver him from suffering. It seems like Kevin is getting help, but when Kevin is brought into the light, he doesn’t feel prepared for reality, choosing to hide behind an alter. The Beast is a man-animal hybrid, something dormant and dominant that could act as a defense mechanism for Kevin. Despite the completely rational idea of creating a protective personality, the film spins it into an act of violence against those who have not suffered enough.
This alter and its superhuman abilities seem to be an example of what literature and film call the “supercrip.” The supercrip is a disabled or mentally ill person who is either born with or inherits gifts or otherworldly powers – often used for change or overall good, which somehow means they are overcoming their disability while working against the odds (4). Marvel is full of these stereotypes, from Daredevil using his blindness as a superpower to Professor X, confined to a wheelchair but blessed with a high-functioning mind capable of telepathy. Split‘s sequel, Glass, doubled down on the supercrip trope by having not one but two superpowered disabled individuals – and both have unsavory agendas. Kevin is made Herculean by the powers of The Beast – almost more than human – while the wheelchair-using Mr. Glass (Samuel L. Jackson) is an intellectual phenomenon capable of just about anything, despite his physical limitations. It seems like this could be an attempt to empower the disabled, at first glance. However, this trope, as it persists, sends viewers messages about what the disabled can and can’t do and what they should be praised for.
In the case of Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), the title Psycho is slightly misleading considering his diagnosis, showing how even the titles of films can overlook the plight of the mentally ill and rarely accurately address it. At the peak of his trauma, Norman assumes an identity that’s as close as it gets to the profile of his abuser – his mother. Having killed her years earlier, it’s presumed that after her death, he was unable to cope, keeping her body and creating an alter as a refuge from her death. Norman really has no options for treatment and would likely be committed due to the severity of his condition. For both of these men, their mothers are key, with Kevin’s base identity unlocked when you speak his name, reminding him of his mother calling out as she menaced him. For Norman, his mother becomes just as much a part of him as his trauma as he keeps her alive inside himself. A deeply misunderstood condition with no set medication regimen, only therapy, I feel like DID patients, who already appear to have a high rate of self-harm and self-consciousness, deserve better.
The Shining (1980) – Alcoholism
I am just over one year sober, working on two, and alcohol is as ubiquitous as it is misused. After a spell of drinking heavily, I finally sought refuge in recovery groups after years of struggle. Alcoholism is also referred to as alcohol use disorder or AUD and is characterized by the inability to stop or control alcohol use regardless of the outcome on social, occupational or physical health (5). Considered a brain disorder but with contributing genetic and mental health factors, AUD can vary in its severity. An estimated 28 million adults over the age of 18 suffered from AUD in 2022 alone (5). Odds are that you know or have known someone who has struggled with substance abuse or AUD, so you would think there would be more compassionate cinematic portrayals of recovering drinkers.
In Stanley Kubrick‘s The Shining, based on Stephen King‘s 1977 novel, Jack Torrance (portrayed by a deliciously unhinged Jack Nicholson) has accepted a caretaking position at the Overlook Hotel. He brings his family to this snowy and empty environment, hoping he can work on his writing and perhaps keep up his streak of five months sober. A dry drunk avoiding consumption but not treating his addiction, Jack’s mind is filled with violence, he’s suffocating with writer’s block – and he’s thirsty. Succumbing to visions and the hotel’s command to “correct” his family, Jack goes on an axe-wielding rampage, hunting his wife until his icy demise.
The overarching argument of those viewing The Shining through an alcoholic lens is that Jack is unstable at the beginning of the film and doesn’t seem like a contentedly sober man. It’s revealed that he’s been physically abusive with his son in the past, demonstrating he was an aggressive, habitual drunk. Here is where source material comes into play: The book tells a wildly different story from the movie. While Stephen King, who is himself a recovering addict, displayed humanity and compassion in his telling of Jack’s story of alcoholic torment, this emotional portrait never made it into Kubrick’s film to the author’s dismay (6).
Connecting the condition’s genetic component, Mike Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep picks up where The Shining leaves off, showing how Jack’s son, Danny (Ewan McGregor), has inherited his father’s demons. Doctor Sleep attempts a much more empathetic look at AUD, showing Danny on his journey toward wellness. While Flanagan succeeds in his emotional angle, it still doesn’t make The Shining, its portrayal of AUD or its exclusion of key elements of King’s source material any more palatable. Flanagan would present another compassionate look at individuals affected by alcohol in his post-Doctor Sleep, Netflix original feature, Midnight Mass, Featuring sympathetic, raw portrayals of men who have ruined or ended lives with their drinking, Midnight Mass creates a world in which they can find resources for recovery, despite their horrible mistakes.
NOTES:
- Cleveland Clinic. (2022, June 2). Neurodivergent: What It Is, Symptoms & Types. Cleveland Clinic; Cleveland Clinic. https://my.clevelandclinic.org/health/symptoms/23154-neurodivergent
- Autism Research Institute. (2020, September 8). Autism and Seizures. Autism Research Institute. https://autism.org/autism-and-seizures/
- What Are Dissociative Disorders? (n.d.). Www.psychiatry.org. https://www.psychiatry.org/patients-families/dissociative-disorders/what-are-dissociative-disorders#:~:text=Dissociative%20Identity%20Disorder
- Naming the Trope: A Deep Dive into the Harmful Uses of Disability Stereotypes in the American Theatre. (n.d.). HowlRound Theatre Commons. https://howlround.com/naming-trope-deep-dive-harmful-uses-disability-stereotypes-american-theatre
- NIAAA. (2020). Understanding Alcohol Use Disorder. Www.niaaa.nih.gov; National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism. https://www.niaaa.nih.gov/publications/brochures-and-fact-sheets/understanding-alcohol-use-disorder
- Lockwood, J. (2021, April 30). The Drink Takes The Man: Alcoholism And Recovery In The Shining And Doctor Sleep. Fangoria.com. https://www.fangoria.com/alcoholism-in-the-shining-and-doctor-sleep/
