We’ve all seen them. They’re inescapable. Their headlines draw us like a moth to flame with their promise of economic, streamlined order. “They” are The Listicle. A collection of items in article form, listed, that serve a purpose of unifying themselves within a specific category. Sometimes they’re listed in the order of worst to best…sometimes they piss you off. One thing they all have in common? They exist as one writer’s opinion. Across the web you can find them ranking everything from makeup brushes, wine, adult diapers, and even listicles that detail the various “types” of listicle. It’s enough to make your head spin, Regan style. We endure, however, because we the people need to know! On this site, we feature plenty of cool, thought-provoking “Top 10” and “Best Of” lists. But, what about you hardcore junkies out there who need a serious fix of the overly specific, “no one asked for this” type of information? I got the hit that you seek here on “Listicle of Death.” I’ll be drilling down to find out the best “Deaths by Ice Cream,” or the “Best ‘Oh, No! I’ve Discovered the Killer’s Lair!’ Slasher Film Moments.” Yep…specific.

genderfuck

n. (also v.): 1. Deliberately sending mixed messages about ones sex, usually through ones dress (e.g., wearing a skirt and a beard).As the above definition highlights, just because a male psycho killer is wearing a dress doesn’t necessarily make them gay or trans. “Genderfuck” is simply a blanket term that can encompass a broader spectrum of identities. When it comes to horror filmmaking, screenwriters notoriously leaned on the “Psycho twist” for years after Hitchcock’s film sent audiences into a tizzy. Ever since, horror and trans characters have built up quite the storied history. Recently, our own Horror Queers (Trace and Joe) tackled the cross-dressing villain of the Insidious franchise when they analyzed “The Bride in Black.” The issue is that a majority of these films present the subject matter as if the otherness of a man in women’s garb is instantly terrifying in and of itself.Sure, societal acceptance of gender bending has come quite a long way. Hell, “RuPaul’s Drag Race” has risen from a bootleg, foggy-lensed reality competition on a channel no one knew existed to become one of the most talked about shows on cable right now. My best friend’s little girl refers to it as “that dragon show.” It’s as everyday normal to her as playing dress up. With that in mind, the days of gender reveals posing as a big twist come the third act of any mystery or hack n’ slash flick are likely numbered. The trope has certainly had its day in the sun, and it’s best we all move on.Many in the queer community have taken umbrage with a number of the films we’ll be discussing in this article for the very reason discussed above. Queer does not equate deranged, maniacal sociopath. Dressing in drag or identifying with a gender beyond that of your biology will not lead you down the path to serial murder. These films are of a time, however, offense surely wasn’t meant by the filmmakers in question. Some of these reveals exist for the sole purpose to shock and surprise, while others are trying to say something – even if they may have been a bit misguided.

Since most of the conversation will revolve around the big reveals of the films in question, this is your prerequisite spoiler warning. Without further ado, let’s get genderfucked.

#5 Seed of Chucky

Don Mancini has written every film within the Child’s Play franchise. After Bride of Chucky took the series into more comedic territory by giving Chucky a wife, played by babydoll voiced Jennifer Tilly, the next logical step was to delve deeper into Charles Lee Ray’s domestic life with the eventual follow up. Taking on the directorial reigns for the first time, Mancini was allowed to fully implant himself into the film’s DNA, from script to screen. What came out of that creative freedom is the most divisive film in the franchise. Seed of Chucky has plenty of detractors. The overall tone is far more camp than any of the sequels before or after. The story also takes a meta turn by featuring Tilly acting as a heightened version of herself alongside her rubberized counterpart. All that to say, it’s one of my favorite films…period. I find it infinitely rewatchable. Sure, the genderfuck in question isn’t a big reveal, but the story at the heart of Seed revolves around the offspring of Chucky and Tiffany and just what gender it is. 

Their child is just like any regular doll, in that their private parts are a completely glossed over bump of nothingness. Which, of course, begs the question – is the child a he or a she? As “gender” and what that actually looks like to the everyday world is something that is taught and not necessarily inherent knowledge, it’s something the orphaned doll has never put any thought into. Chucky wants a vicious killer for a son. Tiffany wants a sweet daughter who she can play dress up with. Together they decide to refer to their child as Glen…and also, Glenda (a nod to Ed Wood’s cross dressing b-movie classic). What follows is a somewhat heartstring tugging battle as the two new parents fight for their child’s affection and literally kill in an attempt to mold them into the image they believe is most befitting. It all comes to a boil when Glen/Glenda snaps, torching Tilly’s assistant, and emerges in disheveled Tiffany bride-drag and screams “You’re tearing me apart!” In the end, the child’s soul is delivered to the bodies of two twins, a boy and a girl. Glen and Glenda can now coexist peacefully, side by side.

Dressed to Kill

I recently rewatched Dressed to Kill, and damn, this is a brilliant thriller. Brian de Palma hones his Hitchcockian flavor in a Giallo-esque mystery that lifts moments wholesale from Psycho. Michael Cain portrays a sexually repressed psychiatrist, Dr. Elliot, whose female alter ego, Bobbi, is fighting to take over. Unfortunately, Bobbi has a penchant for straight razors and is willing to slice up any woman who tries to remind Elliot his male genitalia is still functioning. Sure, that plot twist still drives people crazy today. There are plenty of think-pieces that pop up from time to time that dive into the implications made by de Palma in regards to the trans community. It’s been labeled transphobic by many. The idea that Bobbi is a completely separate personality and willing to kill in order to make sure nothing stands in the way of Elliot going through with reassignment surgery, could be dangerous to those who only get information about the world and the way things work from movies. I’d like to think that most of our society is smarter than that. I certainly don’t think the filmmaker’s intention was ever to label all trans women as villains. de Palma takes painstaking (often hamfisted) measures to explain the (somewhat dated) psychology at play, even allowing an extended clip playout of former Chicago Tribune war correspondent Nancy Hunt. Nancy, a trans woman, stands as the well-adjusted reality at contrast to the over the top, sinister psychosis of Bobbi.

Sleepaway Camp

What else is there to say about the gonzo ending to Sleepaway Camp other than “Angela’s a boy!” Yes, during a not so peaceful summer at Camp Arawak, a string of bizarre murders (death by curling iron, anyone?) plague a group of rotten kids. Seriously, these are some bad little children. Angela (horror icon Felissa Rose) is extremely quiet and keeps to herself. She’s been living with her psycho Aunt Martha, who despite years of rumors was NOT played by a drag queen, and protective cousin Ricky. The reasoning behind all of this is kind of murky. Yes, her father dies in a strange boating accident, and there was another kid with them. Was that Ricky? Yes, her father was gay and had a secret lover that drove somebody’s wife crazy. Was that Martha? I’m not entirely sure, if you have the Sleepaway Camp timeline on lock, feel free to chime in on the comments below.

Nonetheless, I believe Martha was so distraught over the loss of her husband she decided to started dressing one of their kids up as a girl, labeled her a niece, and shipped her off to summer camp. Bad move, cray-cray Martha. Because, Angela hasn’t adjusted all too well to her new persona. The final shock (pictured above) is one for the horror history books. That shot has cemented what is otherwise an okay slasher flick into legend status. You’ll never forget that frozen, slack jawed expression.

Bonus Note: Rose insists there was never any intention of having her do the scene herself with a strap-on, despite reports to the contrary.

Terror Train

One of the lesser regarded flicks in Jamie Lee Curtis’s post-Halloween victory lap of slasher films, Terror Train is one of my favorites. It’s lean, well paced, and features a third act cat and mouse chase that continuously ratchets up the suspense. Plot wise, there’s not a lot of originality on display here. Alana (Curtis) is coerced into playing a prank on the class’s feeble nerd, Kenny. Naturally, it goes terribly wrong and ends with Kenny being hospitalized after catching himself on fire. A few years later, everyone is ready to celebrate graduation on a New Year’s train ride costume party(?)! The various disguises provide ample opportunity for a knife wielding party crasher to hide in plain sight as they knock off one prankster after the other.

The mystery is never really who is the killer. Everyone, including the audience, is pretty certain Kenny is back for revenge. The concern is, what does he look like now? Has he had a bunch of plastic surgery done after the burns, hit the gym, and become dashingly handsome magician David Copperfield (yep, he’s in this)? As it turns out, nope. Kenny has been disguised as dashingly handsome magician David Copperfield’s voluptuously gorgeous magician’s assistant. Queue the “dun-dun-duhhhh.” It’s a final reveal that actually succeeds in its intended purpose of “surprise.” Old school slasher fans who have been sleeping on this one need to get woke and take a ride on the Terror Train.

Cherry Falls

Cherry Falls never had a chance to succeed. It was one of a long list of slasher films to get the greenlight after the success of Scream. The only problem is, it’s way nastier than any of those glossy, late 90’s teen thrillers ever were. Add to that, Columbine happened. Cherry Falls went from a possible box office success straight to a USA premier movie. I followed the film’s production closely online, eating up every tidbit of info I could and impatiently waiting for the movie’s release. Unfortunately, the final product was considerably watered down from what initial reports had painted it to be. And, with Scream Factory recently releasing the bluray, it’s been said any and all excised footage is likely lost for good.

What remains is still a fun, quirky takeoff on the virginal final girl trope. In this film, the killer targets virgins which leads all the high school seniors to throw a “cherry popping party” to save their asses. Brittany Murphy plays our angsty heroine, Jody, with an uncomfortable relationship with her father (Michael Biehn), the town’s sheriff. One of her favorite teachers, Mr. Marliston (Jay Mohr), also turns out to be the raven haired, red nailed murderer picking off her friends. In this case, the killer’s drag tendencies are linked to his mother who became pregnant after being raped by some of the town’s finest (Jody’s father included). No one believed her and it drove her crazy, ultimately abusing her son all throughout his childhood. It’s a heady MO for a typical slasher film. Certainly, it doesn’t excuse serial murder but it’s a sympathetic backstory that could’ve helped Cherry Falls elevate itself from the other dead teenager movies of the time by allowing Marliston some form of pathos. Instead, once the cat is out of the bag, Mohr runs around like a crazed loony without any nuance left to the character. Who knows? Maybe those scenes ended up on the cutting room floor.