Editorials
Excavating Queer Representation in ‘Tammy and the T-Rex’
Before the COVID-19 pandemic paused the film industry, queer horror was gathering momentum. Knife+Heart (Yann Gonzalez, 2018), Lizzie (Craig William Macneill, 2018) and Scream, Queen! My Nightmare on Elm Street (Roman Chimienti, Tyler Jensen, 2019) garnered accolades, and out actors were portraying out characters in mainstream Horror films and TV shows helmed by out directors. This hasn’t always been the case. Growing up, it was sometimes difficult reconciling my queerness with my passion for horror cinema when LGBTQ+ characters and references were typically excluded, coded or relegated to ridicule.
To alleviate anxiety and combat cabin fever during quarantine, I have been turning to silly, schlocky, so-bad-they’re-good horror films. This craving for comfort viewing led to Tammy and the T-Rex (Stewart Raffill, 1994), the only teen love story where the obstacle for the star-crossed couple is not disapproving parents or opposing cafeteria cliques, but a mad scientist transplanting the boyfriend’s brain into an animatronic Tyrannosaurus rex. A mashup of midnight movie genres including gross-out comedy and science fiction, Tammy and the T-Rex earns its horror badge of honour with the restored gore in Vinegar Syndrome’s 2019 “Gore Cut,” now streaming on Shudder. Much has been written about how this preposterous film came to be, but its uncharacteristically progressive queer positivity has been generally unacknowledged or misconstrued. And its overlooked queer character Byron (Theo Forsett) deserves to be crowned a queer horror icon.
From the opening credits where the title incorrectly reads Tanny & the Teenage T-Rex, and Tanny…er, Tammy (Denise Richards), performs a cheerleading routine set to a rock song written from the perspective of a love-struck dinosaur, Tammy and T-Rex is established as a campy trashterpeice. Then hunky jock Michael (Paul Walker) struts on screen wearing white football pants and a crop top, a costuming choice almost as considerate of gay viewers as James Brolin’s tighty-whities in The Amityville Horror (Stuart Rosenberg, 1979). And yes, it is okay to appreciate Walker’s chiseled physique. Twenty-one years old when the film was made, he rather unconvincingly portrays a high school student. Only five minutes after his stirring introduction, Michael confronts Tammy’s punk ex, Billy (George Pilgrim), resulting in one of the most bizarre fight scenes of all time. Described by the police upon arrival as, “one of them testicular standoffs,” Michael and Billy violently grip each other’s testicles and squeeze, refusing to let go as a crowd of overzealous teens cheers on. But Michael’s washboard abs-baring wardrobe and ball busting, homoerotic horseplay are not the only notable elements for queer horror fans. It is the character Byron and the film’s treatment of him that are significant and misunderstood.
Ostensibly fulfilling the sidekick role, Byron is more than just the female protagonist’s best friend. He is out, proud and (spoiler alert) doesn’t even get killed off like the comparable character Adrien (Rabah Nait Oufella) in Raw (Julia Ducournau, 2016)! Far from subtextual or coded, Byron’s queerness is explicitly declared by his first line, “work it, girl,” exclaimed as he sashays across the screen. A rare and refreshing queer character is announced; one who is not coming to terms with his sexuality or struggling with self-acceptance but is comfortably and unapologetically himself. Byron is vivacious, fierce and fabulous. Yet much of the writing about him is exaggerated and disparaging. Culture Crypt suggests Byron “could only be more flamboyant if he were played by Harvey Fierstein in drag,” Collider calls him “a blinding constellation of every ‘gay best friend’ trope ever created,” Cinema Sangha brands him “the impossibly swishy best friend,” and Cinema Crazed claims he is “hard to watch.” Tinged with homophobia and anti-effeminacy prejudice, these descriptions are inaccurate and denigrating. Byron does not ascribe to antiquated ideals of masculinity, nor does he adhere to restrictive, #masc4masc (straight-acting) gay male standards and this should be celebrated, not derided.
Countering the tired trope of the lecherous, perverted queer, Byron is amusingly complimentary of Michael rather than predatory. Defying the Sissy Villain trope, Byron is heroic. And he is not a one note character, as suggested by other writers. When Byron tries to explain Tammy’s relationship with Billy to Michael, he frankly confesses, “she made a mistake. Believe me, we all do.” A more complex backstory or romantic history is hinted at, adding another dimension to the character I wish was further developed. Sure, a storyline where Byron pursues his own partner would be nice, but there just might not be room in a film that already includes a mad scientist subplot, a gruesome lobotomy, two decapitations, two eviscerations and a scene where a mechanical T-Rex calls his girlfriend from a payphone. Byron contributes to the film’s comedic relief with the funniest quips and best one-liners: “hang on to your boobs girl, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride” and “you don’t gallop off into the sunset on a dinosaur and don’t create a stir,” but he also sincerely expresses the sentimentality at the heart of Tammy and the T-Rex, stating, “time heals all wounds; you’ll live to love again” and “don’t give up; remember, true love never fails, honey.”
Subverting the GBF (Gay Best Friend) trope, described by i-D as “often used to identify white, cis, gay, men who perform various supplementary roles to a straight white female protagonist,” Byron is black. This does not simply make him the “ultimate marginalized sidekick” as condescendingly labelled by Cinema Sangha, or “an outrageous gay teen presumably modelled on RuPaul” (The Independent). I agree with one of the only other positive online mentions of Byron from Gayly Dreadful: he is “a POC queer character who…has agency through the film.” Bryon is active, brave and loyal. When the possessive Billy makes another appearance, Byron refuses to leave Tammy’s side and threatens to scratch out the eyes of Billy’s henchman. The relationship between Byron and Tammy is not the superficial straight girl/gay bestie cliché — they have serious shit to worry about like grave robbing, brain swapping and a rampaging mechanical dinosaur! Their dynamic is the most believable and entertaining component of the film and my favourite scenes showcase the chemistry between Forsett and Richards.
During Michael’s funeral, their rapport is on full display. As Michael’s alcoholic uncle drunkenly rambles the eulogy, Tammy and Byron share smirks, eyerolls and elbow jabs. After the mourners depart, the pair attempts to steal Michael’s corpse to return his brain. Upon opening the coffin, Michael’s body is discovered to be inconveniently rotting and infested with maggots and rats, allowing for some slapstick humour and Byron’s hilarious commentary: “maybe we should get some bugspray or something” and “I’m definitely gonna get cremated.”
The hunt to find a replacement body for Michael’s brain leads Byron and Tammy to the morgue where they peruse the selection of cadavers like they are shopping for accessories at the mall. “Cholesterol city! The worms and the maggots are gonna have a field day with this guy,” exclaims Byron about an overweight male. Unzipping a body bag and revealing a female, Tammy says, “I don’t want a girl” and Byron jokes, “well, neither do I.” Referring to her breasts, he also comments he “could have used those [himself].” Regarding older corpses, Bryon remarks, “dead is as old as you’re gonna get, honey!” Unable to make a decision, Byron and Tammy model bodies for the T-Rex through the window. Here Forsett’s comedic timing and flair for physical comedy are highlighted. Regarding a well-hung corpse, Byron, states, “he’s short, but he’s big. Know what I mean Mike?” In an attempt to sell the female cadaver as an option, Byron asserts, “we can be like three sisters!” Hamming it up, Forsett’s performance style is in sync with the rest of the actors, except for Richards, earnestly serving her best damsel in (dino) distress. Byron is always in on the joke and we laugh along with him, not at him.
The film’s treatment of Byron has also been misinterpreted and misrepresented. I do not read Tammy and the T-Rex as homophobic. The main characters accept Byron. To Tammy, he is not merely the GBF, providing fashion tips, gossip or relationship advice — though he can be counted on to produce a “Kamikaze with a vodka chaser” if needed. When Byron first meets Michael, the hot, popular dude that in most teen films would be discriminatory or hostile, Michael is neither. He is sweet and polite. After Byron exits this encounter, Tammy asks Michael if he already knew Byron. When Michael responds, “yeah, I think everyone knows Byron,” it is without malice, accompanied by a charismatic giggle. Michael is not making fun of Byron; he is stating the obvious. Byron has a big personality and his manner of dress is ostentatious. He stands out but is not otherized. Even hellbent on revenge post brain transplant, Michael (as the T-Rex) treats Byron respectfully. After trampling other partygoers and tearing limbs off members of Billy’s gang, the T-Rex carefully picks Byron up from the ground and dusts his shoulder off.
For many of the supporting players, Byron’s sexual orientation is similarly a non-issue. A nurse disinterestedly accepts his compliment of her golden, claw-like nails while Byron’s sheriff father is protective of him and warmly comforting after Michael’s death. Billy’s goons even insult Byron with the same generic expletives they use for everyone else. Inclusion!
Contrary to incorrect reports that multiple “f” slurs are slung at Byron (Cinapse, /Film), there is only one occurrence when the word comes up in Tammy and the T-Rex and it isn’t even fully uttered — the character stops himself from blurting it out. This usage is drastically different from the infamous hurling of the slur in Freddy vs. Jason (Ronny Yu, 2003). It is undeniably offensive that a likeable (up until this point), central character played by Kelly Rowland uses the term to demean and emasculate Freddy Krueger in that film, and the audience is still meant to side with her. As Uproxx stresses, “it is lobbed in an effort to diminish his power, just as it has been against LGBT individuals throughout history.” The word is alluded to in Tammy and the T-Rex for a distinctly different purpose.
The character who almost uses the “f” slur is one half of the yokel Deputy duo Norville (George ‘Buck’ Flower) and Neville (Ken Carpenter). Inept and ignorant, they are repellent caricatures as they munch popcorn while investigating a gory massacre and crack misogynistic jokes. They are not respected by any of the other characters and Byron justifiably calls Neville a pervert. When Norville almost uses the “f” word or when Neville says, “don’t drop anything. Don’t bend over,” as they pass Byron, the audience isn’t meant to laugh along with their immature snickering. This is where many critics have missed the point. Though weak and juvenile, these snippets of dialogue are attempts to illustrate the bigotry and idiocy of Norville and Neville, setting them up as antagonists. We are never meant to side with them and at least some audiences have picked up on this. RogerEbert.com reports that during a 2019 screening of the film at Chicago’s Cinepocalypse, the audience, “rightfully booed the homophobic jokes involving the best friend character that were dated even back in 1994…” As Norville and Neville are the film’s only intolerant characters, Tammy and the T-Rex seems to suggest their prehistoric views and values should be extinct.
Absent from lists of the Best Queer Horror Characters (HorrorBuzz, GCN, Syfy Wire), Byron deserves to be embraced as a queer horror icon. The mere presence of this character is valuable in terms of queer visibility but the film’s positive treatment of him makes Tammy and the T-Rex worthy of excavation this Pride Month. More queer representation in horror cinema is needed and I am hopeful the queer horror momentum continues when we press play on the film industry post-pandemic.
In this day and age, the word “troll” is often used to describe various online nuisances. Yet as abundant and irksome as the modern troll can be, they aren’t usually as fearsome as their mythological counterparts. I’m not talking about the small and gentler versions that have become more common to see in media. No, there are much bigger and scarier trolls out there—and André Øvredal’s movie Troll Hunter is one of the best places to find them.
It doesn’t take long for Troll Hunter (or Trolljegeren) to dump the Blair Witch Project-esque setup and aim for something a lot fresher. The trajectory of the story is augmented by Otto Jespersen’s character Hans, the titular Troll Hunter. The second he comes barreling out of the deep, dark woods and shouts “troll” at the camera, this movie takes a turn into what feels like uncharted territory. Not only subject-wise, but also conceptually.
For fantastical and made-up subject matter in cinema, found footage is a fast way to add a guise of believability. After all, what we accept to be the most crucial aspect of documentaries—the truth—rubs off on pseudo-documentaries, despite our understanding of the pretense involved. That is what Øvredal delivered with Troll Hunter: a movie so convincing that some viewers wondered if trolls really do exist. So, had this been straightforwardly made, it likely wouldn’t have been as effective. Conventional narratives would be more inclined to treat something like trolls as flat out unreal, and never try to convince the audience to think otherwise.
Hans petrifies the three-headed Tusseladd troll.
The viewers, like the characters trailing Hans, are quickly thrown into the deeper end of that extraordinary story. They have to process all this new information while staying on the go. So, although there is no significant amount of meandering, narratively or physically, there is still a good amount of atmosphere, not to mention tension building. It’s never anything frightful, but then again, Troll Hunter isn’t your standard offering of horror; it’s more on the low end of the dark fantasy spectrum. We aren’t ever spirited away to a faraway world—we stay in rather familiar surroundings, as well as dip into those less so. The outcome is a movie where you’re constantly more in awe than in terror.
As fantasy fiction might do, Troll Hunter prefers not to deal with incredulity. There is no time to waste on doubt, as interviewer Thomas (Glenn Erland Tosterud), soundperson Johanna (Johanna Mørck), and cameraman Kalle (Tomas Alf Larsen) all follow Hans around, recording whatever this character is willing to reveal about his bizarre job. Of course, the Troll Hunter himself is not an open book; in that respect, the diegetic documentary fails to fully capture and unpack the more interesting of its two subjects. Yes, all those giant, monstrous trolls are indeed incredible, but understandably, your mind wanders to their pursuer. What kind of person signs up for this gig and then chooses to stick with it for so long?
Reviews have called out Troll Hunter for its lack of character development. In regard to Thomas and his fellow documentarians, that criticism is valid, but bear in mind, they aren’t the focus of the story, either. Meanwhile, Hans is a well-crafted character. At least better than first realized. Before he was introduced, Hans had already grown tired of the troll grind. Fed up with that low compensation for his services, resentful of the bureaucracy, and wanting to expose his employer on a large scale, Hans’ discontent is glaring.
Then there are those finer details about the Troll Hunter, such as that indifference to both the natural splendor of his everyday surroundings and the affections of an obviously smitten colleague, that also suggest some level of despondency. So it is fair to say this movie doesn’t feature any sizable growth for its characters; however, the namesake isn’t underwritten. No doubt, putting a real-life character like Otto Jespersen in that role is partly why Hans is so fascinating—maybe even relatable.
Otto Jespersen as Hans the Troll Hunter.
There is always a small risk whenever using the term “mockumentary” to describe a found-footage movie, as the word could imply humor where there is none. In the case of Troll Hunter, the term’s usage is appropriate. Some folks have claimed the English-dubbed version has the more comedic tone, however, the Norwegian cut isn’t exactly humorless. Apart from the trolls’ absurd appearances, this is a movie where the characters nearly choke on the monsters’ farts, and Christians are like walking targets. Hans’ complete apathy towards everything is another cause of laughter. Overall, the comedy is intentionally dry and inconsistent. Unfunny, though? Absolutely not.
In a movie where endemic creatures are maltreated, as well as disavowed from living freely and peacefully, it’s hard not to notice the ecological message buried beneath the story. In addition to that is the unmistakable political satire. There is this whole business about intrusive and unsightly power lines—like trolls, they’re big blemishes on the land—that leads to what is perhaps the movie’s funniest moment. The scene in question is that one where certain electric lines, the ones secretly being used to keep the trolls at bay, go in a loop and don’t actually send power to any residents. Yet the monitors of said lines don’t find this at all weird. So it stands to reason that Øvredal was having a go at those who accept the government’s doings without question.
Looking past the fact that trolls aren’t actually real, this movie is an enlightening source of information. And not just for international audiences; Norwegians, too, get schooled about their homeland’s own mythology. It’s also evident from everything on screen that Øvredal and his crew were enthusiastic about the topic. The creature designs are the most indicative of that zeal; those imaginative yet myth-accurate manifestations are equally amusing and grotesque. One second you’re laughing at their phallic noses, the next you’re white-knuckling during a hairy sequence. Most surprisingly is how well the trolls’ visual effects hold up after fifteen years. It’s not all spotless, but on the whole, they remain impressive.
Vouching for a mockumentary about trolls isn’t easy, but those who do come around and give it a shot will more than likely be grateful for the recommendation. For Troll Hunter is a real find in that vast and varied genre we call “found footage“.
A bridge troll reaches up for food and finds Hans decked out in armor.
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