Editorials
[Horror Queers] Lost and Isolated as a Queer Metaphor in ‘The Grudge’ (2004)
Each month in Horror Queers, Joe and Trace tackle a horror film with LGBTQ+ themes, a high camp quotient or both. For lifelong queer horror fans like us, there’s as much value in serious discussions about representation as there is in reading a ridiculously silly/fun horror film with a YAS KWEEN mentality. Just know that at no point will we be getting Babashook.
Be sure to check out and subscribe to the Horror Queers podcast! We’re still writing one article a month, but we release one podcast episode each week and discuss one film per episode. Subscribe on Apple Podcasts, Google Play, Stitcher, TuneIn, or RSS.
***SPOILERS for The Grudge to follow.***
Synopsis: Karen Davis (Sarah Michelle Gellar), an American nurse living and working in Tokyo, is exposed to a mysterious supernatural curse tied to a house where a series of grisly murders has occurred.
Queer Aspect: Out actress Clea DuVall co-stars in the film, which is fronted by queer icon Sarah Michelle Gellar.
Joe
Well Trace, we’re back at it for another year and we’re starting off with…a decidedly non-queer horror film. Obviously we chose The Grudge, the first English language North American entry in the Ju-On franchise, because the new film (a side-quel that takes place at the same time as The Grudge) just dropped after sixteen years.
It’s interesting to revisit this film because it feels like it is from a bygone era. Horror in 2004, as we know from several films that we’ve covered on the podcast, was in a weird state. This is right smack dab in the middle of the remake frenzy, at the intersection of the baton pass from J-horror to torture porn. Arriving two years after Gore Verbinski’s The Ring shocked the industry with a $129M domestic gross, The Grudge adopts the same familiar approach used by the second cycle of slashers in the late 90s: cast a hot TV actress as the lead, market the film to teens and laugh all of the way to the bank.
Ok, that’s dismissive and not entirely fair. BUT subsequent J-horror entries – particularly Pulse (2006), One Missed Call (2008) and Shutter (2008) – do all fit that description and are generally considered inferior imitations of their Japanese originals. Basically they’re cash grabs.
The Grudge is closer in proximity than its brethren to The Ring, albeit with a far more CW-friendly starlet in the lead. The film benefits greatly from the involvement of original Ju-On director Takashi Shimizu (tackling his first English language production) and is one of only two J-horror entries that is actually set in Japan (the other is Shutter, which coincidentally also has a Japanese director in Masayuki Ochiai).
For me, the legacy of The Grudge is the latter point. I remember the first time that I watched this in university, I found the non-linear timeline and the aural disconnect of the little boy who screams like a cat among the film’s most distinctive traits. Over time, however, it is the more human issue of being lost in translation that plagues Karen and DuVall’s Jennifer that I find scary: they are unable to connect with others or seek help because they are in a foreign country where they don’t adequately speak the language.
Even at its most basic, rote level, there’s something authentically true about the outsider status that Jennifer and Karen experience when they become lost or can’t quickly navigate Japan’s complicated subway system. This kind of linguistic and cultural struggle adds an exclamation point to the more traditionally horrifying experiences of the film: what if something like this was happening to you and you couldn’t get anyone to help you.
Susan, KaDee Strickland’s character, suffers something similar when, in the film’s scariest sequence, she’s haunted by the ghost of Kayako (Takako Fuji) at her office building and can barely string along a sentence in Japanese to ask the security guard for assistance.

Fascinating, this is something that’s unique to the remake. The Grudge adopts the same basic plot structure as the original Ju-On series, but introduces this additional layer by making the core cast American outsiders (understandable given that this film was made for the North American market). By populating the film with Americans-as-foreigners, there’s a subtle underlying critique of Americans who don’t fully understand the culture in which they’re living. Taking a step back, nearly all of the deaths in the film outside of the Saeki family (who are temporally disconnected from the others because their deaths are shown in flashback) are American: Peter Kirk (Bill Pullman) at the beginning, the entirety of the Williams family, Alex Jones (Ted Raimi), the head of the Care Centre, and Karen’s boyfriend Doug (Jason Behr) all fall prey to a curse born of a rage that they do not understand. The sole exceptions are Yoko (Yōko Maki) and Detective Nakagawa (Ryo Ishibashi), both of whom die while trying to care for the house’s occupants.
As someone who lived abroad, the fish out of water context resonated with me (and I lived in Australia, so the language barrier was merely colloquial and accent-related). To take it a step further, though, there have been times where – as a queer person – I have felt completely isolated and cut off by hetero culture. I’ve had numerous jobs where I’m the sole “out”, queer-identifying person and the sense of navigating a dominant culture that you don’t completely fit in can be exhausting, overwhelming and occasionally frightening. There’s a universal terror to the idea of being a small fish in a large pond that The Grudge subtly captures and it really helps to underline the terror for me.
Trace, I’m curious, what do you think the film’s legacy is? Do the scares work for you? And how do you feel about Sarah Michelle Gellar’s performance in her first significant non-Buffy solo outing?

Trace
Well Joe (happy to be back writing these articles, by the way!), The Grudge’s legacy has more to do with its big box office numbers and its influence on the mid-to-late 2000s J-horror remake trend than its actual quality. This is a shame because the film isn’t half bad, but I wouldn’t say it’s fondly-remembered. In fact, many horror fans I speak to seem to despise it. I call bullshit, because The Grudge is undeserving of so much hate. Is it a masterpiece of American cinema? Far from it, but the dislike seems to stem more from the wave of copycats and cash-grabs it inspired than from the film’s quality.
Back to its financial legacy, though: The Ring may have been an unexpected box office juggernaut, but it took two years for another J-horror remake to get released (The Grudge). Made for significantly less money than Verbinski’s now-classic film ($10 million compared to The Ring’s $40 million), The Grudge exploded when it was released in 2004, earning $39 million during its opening weekend. The following weekend just so happened to be Halloween, which helped The Grudge retain the #1 spot (and according to our reliable old friend Wikipedia, it was the first horror film to top the Halloween box office since 1999’s House on Haunted Hill). The Grudge would go on to make $110 million dollars domestically and an additional $77 million overseas……against a $10 million budget. To say it was successful would be a massive understatement, and I believe that the film is more responsible for the boom in J-horror remakes than even The Ring. Just look at the timeline:
- The Ring – 10/18/2002 – $129M Domestic/$249M Worldwide Gross
- The Grudge – 10/22/2004 – $110M Domestic/$187M Worldwide Gross
- Dark Water – 7/8/2005 – $25M Domestic/$68M Worldwide Gross
- The Ring Two – 3/18/2005 – $76M Domestic/$160M Worldwide Gross
- Pulse – 8/11/2006 – $20M Domestic/$30M Worldwide Gross
- The Grudge 2 – 10/13/2006 – $39M Domestic/$71M Worldwide Gross
- One Missed Call – 1/4/2008 – $27M Domestic/$46M Worldwide Gross
- The Grudge 3 – 8/27/2009 – Straight-to-DVD in the US
- Rings – 2/3/2017 – $28M Domestic/$83M Worldwide Gross

When remakes of Japanese films started to lose traction at the box office, Hollywood moved to other Asian countries. 2008 and 2009 saw a few Chinese, Korean and Thai films get the remake treatment, but all of them (save for maybe The Uninvited) were uninspired at best and downright lazy rehashes at worst:
- The Eye – 2/1/2008 – $31M Domestic/$57M Worldwide Gross
- Shutter – 3/21/2008 – $26M Domestic/$48M Worldwide Gross
- Mirrors – 8/15/2008 – $31M Domestic/$77M Worldwide Gross
- The Uninvited – 1/30/2009 – $29M Domestic/$42M Worldwide Gross
- The Echo – 5/28/2009 – Straight-to-DVD in the US
- Mirrors 2 – 10/19/2010 – Straight-to-DVD in the US
I realize that this is a very long and very boring history lesson, but these numbers and dates show just how integral The Grudge was to the J-horror remake trend. It’s entirely possible that the success of The Ring was considered a fluke by Hollywood executives, but the over-performance of The Grudge proved that there was money to be made within that sub-genre of horror.
The problem with most of the remakes that followed The Grudge is one of culture, though. So many of these Japanese ghost stories are steeped in Japanese culture, so translating them over to America proves troubling for American filmmakers. The Ring maintains the original’s atmosphere while still making itself distinctly American. The Grudge is a bit of a mixed bag in that respect because it tries to have its cake and eat it, too. As you said, Joe, it’s an American remake with a mostly American cast, but it keeps the setting in Japan. On top of that, Shimizu returned to direct a remake of his own film, supposedly agreeing to helm it because he saw the new version as an opportunity to fix the original film’s mistakes. Whatever those mistakes may be, there really isn’t that much different about the remake other than its cast and the addition of the fish-out-of-water element you mention.

And how coincidental that you connect the Americans’ fish-out-of-water tale with queerness, because I was thinking the exact same thing during my re-watch. If The Grudge brings anything legitimately new to the table, it is this element. It’s not given the appropriate amount of screen time because there’s scarin’ to be done, but the moment when the film takes a breather to explore Jennifer’s frustration at her new living situation is one of the remake’s most inspired moments. When she tells her husband Matt (William Mapother) about getting lost in the city, it’s arguably scarier than any ghostly vision of Kayako or Toshio that The Grudge presents. Is it a coincidence that it’s the queer actress gets this particular monologue? Probably, but it seems fitting, doesn’t it? Another nice moment is the one where she has to poke a hole in the noodle box to see what it smells like because she can’t read the label. It’s a small moment that speaks volumes about Jennifer and her situation. We connect more with her in these moments than we do with Karen in the entire film.
As for the plot? Well, that’s another story. Is it a bit convoluted? Sure. Do the “rules” of the curse play it fast and loose? Absolutely. But it still has a deliciously creepy atmosphere to it and, some dodgy CGI aside, has some fantastic visuals. The sound design is especially clever, with one jump scare on a bus conflating the sounds of a rattling bike chain with Kayako’s signature death rattle making the biggest impression. And Joe, I know you didn’t watch the Extended Director’s Cut, which runs a full seven minutes longer than the PG-13 Theatrical Cut, but there’s quite a bit more grotesque imagery in the former version that makes it slightly more effective than the latter (Yoko’s jawless mouth, Jennifer and Matt’s decaying corpses, the flashback to Takeo’s murderous rampage, etc.).
Joe, I’ve gone on for far too long, and I realize I didn’t even answer your question about Gellar’s performance. Sorry to say that as much as I love her, I think it’s a bit lifeless. I’ll go into more detail in my next response. Let me ask you this: does the non-linear narrative work for you? I sometimes wonder if the film would work better if it was told in a linear fashion, but its gimmick is arguably what makes the film an effective mystery (though your mileage may vary). And what say you about the rules of the titular “grudge?” Do they need to make sense? Or is their ambiguity what makes the film scary?

Joe
Oh geez, that bus scene! I’ll agree with you that the sound design is good, but OOF on the aged CGI of Kayako in the window. I inadvertently laughed before I could stop myself!
Sadly, I agree with you about Gellar. Part of the film’s issue is that it has very little interest in actual characters (they’re basically just interchangeable pieces to be moved around until the grudge comes for them), which renders the performances stilted at best and lifeless at worst. Strickland’s set piece works not because Susan is a character, but because of the unsettling imagery of Kayako appearing out of a shadow in a hallway and Toshio appearing on literally every floor of her apartment building. We don’t fear for Susan, although her death stands out as “memorable.”

Karen, alas, has no such humanizing moment. I may have smiled inadvertently when I saw Gellar’s “Buffy run” as she rushes to save Doug, but a lot of the residual empathy I have for the character is from her star-making performance as the Slayer. Which, in a way, is perhaps the remake’s savviest move – a non-linear storyline helps lift up an otherwise straightforward story of doomed one-dimensional characters, who are themselves lifted up by likeable/recognizable actors.
I’ll confess that none of the scares work for me (I’m not particularly affected by ghosts, if we’re being honest), so the non-linear stuff is the best that the film has to offer. Would it be better chronologically? Maaaaybe, but there’s something startling about seeing a dead or missing character suddenly pop back up in a later scene. It definitely helped to keep my attention this time around, particularly when you realize that there will be no escape for these characters: the minute that they set foot in that damn (gorgeous) house, it’s over for them, regardless of their attempts to escape fate.
If you start to consider how it all works, though? No, the rules make very little sense (why does Peter commit suicide? Why is Yoko the one who kills Alex instead of, say, Kayako or Toshio? Why does Nagakama’s partner survive considering he went into the house?) I will say this, however, having seen later iterations (including Sadako vs Kayako, the terribly boring attempt to cross the Ring v Grudge franchises) this tamer, simpler effort has its benefits.
What about you, Trace: do you revisit any of these J-horror entries (North American or original flavour)? Were you as taken as me by the set design, which is arguably one of the film’s greatest strengths? And do you have any initial reactions about the new film before we spill the tea in our Patreon episode?

Trace
Bite your tongue about Sadako vs. Kayako! It’s far from a good movie, but it’s a hoot and a half and is all too aware of how dumb it is (there’s actually a part where a future victim says something along the lines of “Oh, are you talking about the cursed video tape that kills you two days after you watch it? It watched it two days ago! Guess I’m going to die today!”). Now, I did see S v K in a midnight movie setting with a Fantastic Fest audience, though, so perhaps that helped?
Unfortunately I don’t revisit most of these J-horror films. I haven’t even seen half of the remakes I listed above! It’s just not my favorite sub-genre of horror. But you are correct: the house porn in this film is on point.
As for the non-linear narrative: it works for me. It’s a puzzle that the viewer has to piece together, which is fun for me although I understand that it’s not everyone’s cup o’ tea. In fact, trying to piece it all together might even dilute some of the scares. You become so focused on trying to figure out what is going on that there’s hardly any time to pay attention to the film’s scare tactics. The narrative becomes clearer on a rewatch (or if you read the Wikipedia summary, which is written in chronological order), but then the mystery is gone.
Unfortunately, screenwriter Stephen Susco (who would go on to direct the mean-spirited but highly effective sequel Unfriended: Dark Web) is so focused on this narrative puzzle that almost no attention is paid to the characters (Jennifer’s aforementioned breakfast table scene being one of the sole exceptions). Karen is meant to be the audience surrogate, but Gellar’s performance (which consists mostly of the actress looking confused and distant) makes it difficult for us to care about her. I’m sure the intention was to have her confusion translate over to the audience, but it has the opposite effect and Karen winds up becoming more of a cipher. She is the least relatable character in the film! The residual empathy you bring up is a valid point, though. Would I care about Karen as much if she was played by a no-name actress as opposed to Gellar? Probably not.

I’ll have to disagree with you about those scares, though. With the exception of the goofy head elevator bit in the film’s climax (what else would we call that?), most of them work for me. Yes, it’s mostly jump scares, but the haunting imagery and sound design gets to me. Kayako’s death rattle and the twitches her body makes as she crawls down the stairs is some truly chilling stuff. Shimizu has a lot of fun employing different scare tactics, and while they may not be as effective for you, you have to admire their creativity.
I’ll conclude this with a statement on the new The Grudge, which I saw last night: it’s fine. There is a shit piling happening with that film all over social media right now, not to mention the beating it has received from critics and that F CinemaScore. It all seems a bit excessive to me.
Is it a particularly good film? No.
Is it the worst thing I’ve ever seen? Not at all.
It’s a generic cash-grab with some dull moments and a few moments of inspiration, but it doesn’t deserve the hate it’s getting. One thing is for sure: any hope for a J-horror resurgence in the States has now been dashed. Guess it will forever live as a time capsule moment in the mid-2000s.
The Grudge is available to stream for $3.99 on iTunes.
Next time on Horror Queers: Just in time for Leigh Whannell’s new take on The Invisible Man, we’re traveling back to 1971 to check in with a different mad scientist in the sex-change thriller, Dr. Jerkyll and Sister Hyde!
Don’t forget to catch up on our previous Horror Queers articles here or check out our podcast page here.
Editorials
Revisiting ‘Subspecies’: The Gothic Horror Gem That Created an Unforgettable Vampire
Auteur Filmmaking is a term that gets thrown around a lot these days in reference to big name directors like Quentin Tarantino and even Wes Anderson, but the truth is that film is a collective medium, and no one person can be responsible for every single aspect of a particular production. However, the smaller a film’s budget, the bigger the individual impact of every creative decision behind it – and the easier it becomes to identify a genuine auteur.
This isn’t necessarily a judgement of value, as blockbuster filmmaking comes with its own challenges and a good movie remains a miracle regardless of how big the crew is, but I’ve always been more interested in soulful b-movies produced by handfuls of passionate artists than blockbusters backed by creative armies.
That’s why I love exploring low-budget franchises that never left the hands of their original creators, as you really get to know the artists involved with these flicks and can accompany their evolution over a period of time. With that in mind, I’d like to invite readers to join me in this multi-part series as we look into a vampire saga helmed by one of the most fascinating auteurs of the 1990s. Naturally, I’m referring to Ted Nicolaou’s criminally underrated Subspecies!
The Birth of an Unlikely Horror Franchise

A proud graduate of the University of Texas’ Film program, Nicolaou got his start in the industry as a sound technician working on Tobe Hooper’s original Texas Chain Saw Massacre. From there, the filmmaker would go on to work for notorious indie producer Charles Band, the founder of both Empire Pictures and Full Moon Productions. According to Nicolaou, Band would usually contact him with an offer to direct a feature after more prominent filmmakers, such as the late, great Stuart Gordon, had already refused, meaning that his projects tended to have lower budgets and more inexperienced crew members.
The plans for Subspecies began almost immediately after the fall of Romanian dictator Nicolae Ceaușescu, with screenwriter David Pabian turning in an initial draft of the film after a Romanian producer contacted Band and explained that Romanian tax incentives could cover the cost of film production there so long as Full Moon took care of the post-production process. Since Stuart Gordon was unwilling to travel to Romania, Ted Nicolaou ended up taking over the picture.
However, while the financial incentives meant that this Romanian-American co-production could look and feel much more expensive than it really was, with Nicolaou scouting for locations in advance and selecting real castle ruins to be featured in the movie, the director was soon faced with an incredibly difficult shooting process. In interviews, Nicolaou would later describe the experience as something of a nightmare, with language barriers and the generalized distrust of capitalist outsiders sabotaging many of the team’s plans for the film.
In fact, the script, which had already been altered by Band, ultimately had portions of it rewritten by both Jack Canson and Nicolaou himself in an attempt to adapt the story to their unique limitations.
Radu Is One of Horror’s Greatest Underrated Villains

In the finished film, which was released directly to video in 1991, we follow a pair of American anthropology students, Michelle (Laura Mae Tate) and Lillian (Michelle McBride), as they reunite with their Romanian colleague Mara (Irina Movila) in her native land. The group intends to study the folklore surrounding the secluded town of Prejmer, but their research is cut short by the return of Radu Vladislas (Anders Hove) – the evil son of a vampire king (Angus Scrimm) who had previously established a truce with the region’s human residents. It’s now up to Radu’s human-loving half-brother Stefan (Michael Watson) to protect the girls from a fate worse than death as the power-hungry vampire seeks to control a magical artifact known as the Bloodstone.
Right off the bat, you may have noticed that the film’s premise sounds decidedly old-fashioned when compared to other vampire movies from around the same time. While the 1990s saw the rise of cool-looking bloodsuckers with badass elements borrowed from Westerns, as well as the sexy aristocrats of Anne Rice’s stories, Subspecies has a lot more in common with Nosferatu and the Hammer Horror series than any of its contemporaries.
This is both a blessing and a curse, as the film falls victim to overly familiar genre tropes while also standing out as a rare example of a ’90s vampire flick that isn’t afraid to flex its muscles as a Creature Feature. In fact, I’d argue that the presence of age-old clichés is a small price to pay when confronted with one of the most compelling vampire antagonists in all of cinema.
Named after Vlad the Impaler’s real-life brother, Anders Hove’s Radu is such a fascinating character and the main reason why Subspecies is still worth watching 35 years later. From his animalistic mannerisms to the joy he feels in simply existing as a chaotic creature of the night, and that’s not even mentioning the iconic makeup that almost certainly inspired the undead from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Radu is a hypnotic presence harkening back to a time when audiences didn’t mind purely evil villains that couldn’t be redeemed through tragic backstories or sex appeal.
Gothic Atmosphere on an Indie Budget

Of course, the film’s Romanian setting and authentic art direction do a lot of the heavy lifting whenever Radu isn’t around. From the masked festivals of the village to the visually interesting selection of local extras, Subspecies’ multicultural elements help it to stand out when compared to similar flicks from the ’90s.
That being said, Nicolaou’s unique eye for special effects and exciting action sequences – as well as Vlad Paunescu’s excellent cinematography – make the movie a delight for fans of expressionist cinema and old-timey gothic horror. While the crew is obviously dealing with limited resources, many of the flick’s blemishes (such as the odd stop-motion demons that serve Radu) end up feeling more like charming idiosyncrasies than actual flaws.
I’d argue that the only real issue here is pacing, as there are long stretches of film where the protagonists are simply bumbling around without realizing what’s really going on around them. Thankfully, the gorgeous visuals and surprisingly effective soundtrack usually make up for this. Besides, how can you dislike a movie where shotgun shells are loaded with rosary beads and our lead vampires duke it out in a dramatic swordfight that would feel out of place during the golden age of Hollywood?
Your overall enjoyment of Subspecies will mostly depend on whether or not you find low-budget corner-cutting and janky practical effects charming rather than distracting, but I know I’ll keep coming back to this Full Moon feature again and again in the future.
That being said, while this first movie is worth revisiting by its own merits as the birth of an indie horror icon, I’d like to invite you to join us as we look into the cult sequel Bloodstone: Subspecies II soon.
You must be logged in to post a comment.