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Fear of “The Other” and Trans Symbolism in ‘Frankenstein’ [Trapped By Gender]

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Universal Classic Monsters

The past few articles I’ve had published on this site have been a dream come true for me. I’ve been on this site as a reader since I was in high school during the early 2000s. It’s at a point where I’ve now been reading this site for over half of my life. I’ve seen a lot happen throughout these years and I’ve seen a lot change in the horror genre. The biggest thing that I’ve always noticed is despite the loudness of the voices that wish to stagnate any progress and keep horror as is, they are not as loud as the progressive voices that enjoy variety in their favorite genre. Despite the tendency towards progressivism today in horror media, the representation of certain groups isn’t the best yet people are continuing to try to improve the messages their movies and art convey.

In the past many, many queer people lacking adequate representation would look to the villain of the piece because of the phenomena of queer coding, which is a number of traits and actions that are placed on the villain to make them “act” gay or effeminate. So you’re sort of forced to look towards the so-called monster of the piece to find something that is BARELY close to a SLIVER of representation. Say for instance with me, trans people barely exist in horror. I can’t find a character and actually feel a kinship, someone I can say to myself, “Hey, they’re just like me.” So I have always looked to the monsters and villains because I’ve felt and been treated like one many times just because that’s how certain people choose to see me. It is comforting to see and know that we finally have some actual queer people at the table in the industry to look up to.

It took a long time to get to this point yet queer people were always here, right from the start. Queer erasure is what happens when you have an entire industry run by cisgender, white men who are always in the majority when it comes to making movies or really anything in life in general. Maybe it’ll come as a surprise to some of you that the creation of the entire genre of Science Fiction came courtesy of a 19 year old woman. Her name was Mary Shelley and it came in the form of the novel Frankenstein. This truly seminal piece of genre fiction was originally published January 1st, 1818. During its initial release the author was anonymous due to even worse antipathy towards women authors during the time period. After it garnered enough attention it was revealed that a woman wrote the book and she was finally credited for her work. Isn’t it strange how 203 years later, there is still an issue with women in Science Fiction and Horror when a woman created one of those genres? Not only did this woman single handedly create an entire genre, she created a story that has endured for literal centuries.

One thing that is not very well known is that Mary was a bisexual who some hundred or so years after her death had her book made into a movie which was directed by an openly (for the time) homosexual man named James Whale. So not only is Frankenstein sci-fi, it’s queer horror too, through and through. This makes it the first Science Fiction/Horror story. Another thought to keep in mind with Mary Shelley is that even if she didn’t create it, she most definitely perpetuated and popularized the Mad Scientist Trope. Just think of the hundreds of horror films with that trope alone created during the 1950s. No Godzilla, no Kaiju, no Back to the Future, or Rick and Morty without her. Show your Queen and those of her gender some respect, will ya?

Personally, I’ve always felt a type of kinship with Frankenstein. (Sometimes I’m going to refer to The Creature as Frankenstein because his creator was named Frankenstein and usually those born from someone else take their last name, so Frankenstein it is). I’m out here trying to live my life and some people seem to want to burn me for no other reason than their own fear or a misplaced sense of justice in trying to protect the children and “real women”. In some ways Frankenstein is the ultimate story of otherization which unfortunately is a concept that queer people are not strangers to. It shows a narrative that someone like me can use to relate some of my own personal experiences to those who may not have experienced similar.

In many ways it’s a story about learning who you are and how to be a person when you have changed so significantly from who you were before. Frankenstein has much growing to do, arguably both The Creature and The Doctor. It would help if The Creature were treated better, abnormal brain or not. Neurodivergence is no reason to mistreat anyone. It’s almost as if our Queen Mary was onto something over 200 years ago. Treat those different than you with the same respect as you would your own family and you will find kindness, friendship, respect, and loyalty. These are all things The Creature wanted, just to have some friends and be shown one bit of kindness. No wonder he feels, “We belong dead!” at the end of Bride of Frankenstein. Can you blame him after his treatment the past two movies?

There’s mountains of unintentional transgender subtext in Frankenstein. Looking into it, Frankenstein is reborn into this newly stitched together body (not all trans people have surgery, but many do) and he’s immediately ostracized by the community at large. This happened to me when I began to transition. Once you’re easily read as transgender, there goes all pretense of kindness. Especially if you have to go to the bathroom in public. Do you choose the one where you’ll get beaten up or do you choose the one where people may call the cops on you?

Decisions, decisions…

When people see someone different than themselves that they don’t understand it’s easier for them to lash out like with the townspeople and The Creature. They hate him, intentionally scare him, and the tactics used to ostracize him are very similar to the ones used against transgender individuals. A very easy comparison you could make would be between TERFs and the townspeople with their now stereotypical pitchforks. TERF is an acronym for Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminist. They align themselves with fascists because that’s exactly what they are. You can only be a woman or a man according to their bonkers beliefs if you win the genetic lottery at birth and are born the way you see in your head. Validity does not matter to these people. If you’re transgender you crossed a line with them just for being born and they treat you like you’re the problem. They’re bullies. These people are so evil they go after children’s charities such as the Mermaids foundation in the UK that helps trans kids feel more like themselves, more aligned with their physical body and more comfortable than without the support. They have a lifeline for suicidal trans youth. They do research to further transgender healthcare. They’re very good people and you should maybe shoot a few bucks their way for the kids. If one kid can feel less pain with gender dysphoria like the kind I went through as a child it’s worth it. It could save a life. As they say, when will somebody think of the children? https://mermaidsuk.org.uk/donate/

After his resurrection, Frankenstein is forced to learn new societal rules and learn how to act within his new role; there’s no going back to the same life after being brought back from the dead. Like The Creature, I do not have a neurotypical brain. It’s been shaped by trauma inflicted upon me by society and genetics. I have learned so many new things socially since transitioning. Trans people have to become their own maker just like The Creature. He leaves Dr. Frankenstein and teaches himself to read. He learns more about how to be as human as can be yet still something else entirely. In a sense Frankenstein thrives, becoming more erudite as the novel goes on, and ultimately very well spoken and well read. This is exactly what I had to do. I had to teach myself different subject matter regarding being a woman in our society because I wasn’t socialized in the same way growing up. Just like Frankenstein, I have to continually be putting in extra effort to fit in.

I took control of my own development the day I started hormone replacement therapy. Like Dr. Frankenstein’s Creature I was allowed to grow, but only once I left the place I was born. When I started transition in 2008, the discourse at the time was either hide and cocoon in your room until you have transformed enough for yourself, or move to a new place where no one knows you and you can define yourself to these new people on your own terms. So I moved to a new place; no one knew my past, and I could continue anew. I had to extricate myself away from a mob that didn’t care about my name or how I felt when they would misgender me. Like The Creature I had to get away to my own Antarctica or as it’s more well known here, Lovecraft Country in New England. I’ve never been able to escape those who may want to hurt or kill me but I have grown and changed in many ways that would have not been possible had I stayed where I was. The more I write of this, the more I believe that there is no better allegory for transgender and queer individuals in general than that of Frankenstein.

The catharsis alone that horror movies and horror stories bring for the othered, the hurt, the strange, the outcasts, and those that are queer cannot be stated enough. For those working within the horror genre that say that their art isn’t political, you can say that, and believe that. However, you have influences and I can guarantee you that your influences had political beliefs, ones that show up in their work. You are being subconsciously influenced and carrying those beliefs over to your work. There is no such thing as apolitical art and media. Frankenstein is the ultimate example of this, even if unintentional. I don’t know Queen Mary’s intentions while writing it. All I know is that it has helped and comforted countless queer people over the past couple centuries.

There have been so many adaptations of the Frankenstein novel over the years and I’ve yet to see one directed by a woman. Maybe there is one and I’ve missed it; I’m not including Frankenstein-like stories. I’m talking about THE story that birthed the genre. The one that needs a new adaptation. One that is faithful. I’d love to see a woman direct an actual Frankenstein film. In fact, I’d love to see a trans woman specifically take on the story. Transgender individuals know a thing or two about body horror. After all, we live with it every day.

Your Horror Tran,

Alice Collins

Alice is first and foremost a horror fanatic but overall a fan of the "lesser" genres. Please give her your trash, your b-movies, your low budet/nobudget weird/kung fu/sci-fi/fantasty stuff. She's also a writer, musician, Your Horror Tran, and an all around general weirdo.

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Editorials

What Mike Flanagan’s ‘Carrie’ Teaser Reveals About His Bold New Adaptation

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Mike Flanagan Carrie Series

Five decades ago, Stephen King published the story of a bullied girl with telekinetic powers and forever changed the world of horror.

Carrie follows a high school misfit who seeks revenge for a hideous prank by psychically destroying her senior prom. The name Carrie White has become synonymous with the concept of a formal dance thanks to a flawless adaptation from Brian De Palma. Now fifty years after the film’s release, Mike Flanagan is putting his own stamp on the troubling story.

Rather than a feature film, the writer/director will expand King’s relatively slim debut novel into an eight-episode miniseries for Amazon Prime set to premiere on October 7.

Flanagan is no stranger to the world of Stephen King. A long-time Constant Reader, he first made waves with his daring adaptation of Gerald’s Game (2017), a novel many fans considered un-filmable. His underrated Doctor Sleep merges the disparate plot of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining with King’s original source material, and his 2024 genre-bending tearjerker The Life of Chuck faithfully executes one of the author’s most metaphysical novellas.

He’s currently mired in pre-production for an expansive adaptation of The Dark Tower series, keystone to King’s connected universe, and Warner Bros. recently announced that Flanagan will helm a new version of The Mist, King’s 1980 novella which sees a small Maine town overrun by otherworldly monsters. 

Considering the vast array of the author’s previously unadapted material, an obvious question arises. Why reimagine Carrie in 2026? Noting the timeless nature of the content, Flanagan expressed his desire to bring the story of a bullied girl into modern times, mirroring his approach to Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher. He explained, “The only way to approach it was to build something new out of the ingredients of Carrie. Otherwise, there’s really no purpose in trying to retread ground that’s been so beautifully walked before.”

His miniseries will maintain the novel’s bloody bookends while delivering “big surprises” along the way. 

A New Prom Night Nightmare

The roughly 60-second teaser introduces Summer H. Howell as Carrie White just before the moment of catastrophe. Standing in a prom dress, she smiles at her applauding classmates with an ominous crown perched upon her head. Moments later, Carrie unleashes a rage-filled scream into the night air while promgoers rush for the exit doors. But careful examination of this scene shows Carrie wearing a different, albeit dirty dress as she seems to telekinetically punish her peers

In an exclusive first look with Entertainment Weekly, Flanagan explains that in his version of the story, “the events of that prom are going to be completely different.” An open trunk emitting a crimson glow does hint at the pig’s blood dumped on Carrie’s head, but it’s likely Flanagan’s formal dance will be a different kind of horror altogether. Despite these changes, the series may end with the widespread destruction outlined in the source material. Unlike any previous adaptations, King’s novel ends with the near-total destruction of Chamberlain, Maine. A flaming street in Flanagan’s trailer promises similar carnage no matter what prank sparks Carrie’s deadly revenge. 

The Monstrous Addition of Social Media

On the opposite end of this fiery conclusion is an extreme act of bullying that brings together the story’s main cast. King’s novel begins as Carrie gets her first period while showering in the girls’ locker room. Completely unaware of the concept of menstruation, the sheltered girl thinks she’s bleeding to death. Her classmates respond with vitriolic rage. Led by ultra-mean girl Chris Hargensen (Alison Thornton), they mock the terrified teen while pelting her with tampons. Glimpses of this disturbing event reveal that Flanagan has excised the scene’s nudity while adding a seismic update. As Carrie sobs in the shower stall, Chris and her friends film the breakdown with their phones.

Other scenes note the presence of social media, bringing King’s fifty-year-old story into the digital age. 

Flanagan’s adaptation promises to explore the destructive power of social media, an often invisible entity with a potential for harm rivaling Carrie’s own powers. While King’s tormented heroine suffers in front of a small group of girls, Flanagan’s version of the incident will likely become a viral video, potentially circling the globe on social media. Similar to Katt Shea’s criminally underrated The Rage: Carrie 2, which includes elements of revenge porn exploitation, Flanagan’s modern retelling will distinguish itself by exploring the nebulous cruelty of online bullying, a force ten times more powerful than the irl pranks King first envisioned. 

A Completely Reimagined White Family

In addition to modernizing these canon events, Flanagan hints at updates to Carrie’s oppressive upbringing at the hands of her mother, Margaret White (Samantha Sloyan). Dead before the novel begins, we never meet Carrie’s domineering father Ralph, known to carry a bible alongside his gun. Flanagan’s White household will be an altogether different beast. In his version of the story, Carrie and her mother have been hidden away in the unassuming home, forced out of hiding by Ralph’s unexpected death. Perhaps we will finally meet this elusive man whose shadow hangs over his wife and child. Considering the White family’s fundamentalist lifestyle, this reimagining hints at tradwife culture and a home ruled by staunch patriarchal control.

Whereas King’s Carrie has been tormented by her classmates since Kindergarten, Flanagan’s Carrie will be a wide-eyed newcomer to public school, eager to make friends and engage with her peers. We glimpse Carrie cozying up to Chris and the equally popular Sue Snell (Siena Agudong) as she navigates a new social scene. Of course, we know this kindness is part of an elaborate plot designed to lull Carrie into a false sense of camaraderie, setting up an atrocious act of public humiliation. These brief moments of feigned compassion put Sue’s own complicity into question. Will Flanagan’s version of the character find the courage to defend Carrie from vicious bullies or will she succumb to peer pressure and join in the mob mentality? 

Perhaps the biggest deviation from King’s original text is the relationship between Carrie and her mother. King’s Margaret White is a horrifically abusive religious zealot whose worldview has been hardened by internalized misogyny. She shames Carrie for menstruating, locks her in a closet to “pray,” and regrets not killing her child in infancy. She’s also responsible for Carrie’s social ostracization. Known to berate her neighbors for their “sins,” Margaret forces her daughter to live by an extreme code of conduct and disallows any potential friends lest they corrupt the girl with their worldly ways.

Flanagan’s version of the character is perhaps just as much a victim as Carrie herself. Also trapped inside her home, his Margaret is overly vigilant, her own trauma manifesting as strict control. Describing a more sympathetic depiction of the iconic villain, Flanagan explains, “Our Margaret White is a woman who fiercely loves her daughter and wants to protect her from this world … [She] doesn’t know how to do that and thinks the way to protect her is to close her off; not punitively, but to create this private utopia.”

Despite this potential softening, Sloyan’s Margaret may still have a sharp edge. Though she has appeared in many Flanagan projects, from Hush (2016) to The Fall of the House of Usher (2023), she is best known for her role as the abhorrent Bev Keane in the poignant saga Midnight Mass (2021). Perhaps inspired by King’s Margaret White, Bev is pious and sadistic, willing to punish anyone who does not adhere to her warped approximation of Catholicism.

Flanagan specifically wrote Margaret with Sloyan in mind, likely remembering the actress’s eerie ability to create deceptive empathy and shift our allegiances on a dime.   

Expanding Stephen King’s Telekinetic Universe

While most of King’s story deals with an unthinkable prom night in Chamberlain, Maine, large sections of the semi-epistolary novel see experts debating the nature of telekinesis. Do Carrie’s frightening abilities represent a new phase in human evolution or is the prom night carnage merely a fluke? King settles the debate with a shocking denouement in which a young mother recounts her infant daughter’s ability to dangle her crib toys in midair. We’re left to wonder if she will become another tormented girl who surprises the world with metaphysical strength. 

Flanagan plans to build out this brief scene while amplifying themes of female empowerment. After introducing our main cast of characters, episode two will open with an unrelated story in which we meet another girl with the TK gene. Each subsequent chapter will expand this world, building out a roster of telekinetic young women. Considering King’s fondness for stories about powerful kids, often described as possessing “the shining,” Constant Readers will no doubt have their eyes peeled for various Easter Eggs nodding to the author’s vast catalogue. 

Giving Carrie Her Own Voice

Perhaps the most striking distinction in Flanagan’s new trailer is the extent to which we hear Carrie’s voice. The sneak peek is fully narrated by the titular prom queen as she demands accountability. “I want to know why,” she explains while detailing Chris’ elaborate plan. Aside from the aforementioned coda, King’s book essentially ends with the aftermath of the prom night tragedy, leaving little time for Carrie to reflect. His shifting narrative does bring the reader into her fragile mind, though not before she’s been cowed by relentless cruelty. We watch Carrie sink into bloodthirsty revenge, but never hear a considered desire for justice or repair. 

Flanagan’s original monologue allows Carrie to voice her pain and mourn the life she could have had. We’re also treated to a mug shot-style photo of Chris with a bruised and bandaged face, implying that the mean girl will have to answer for her senseless sadism.

Flanagan is known for filling his series adaptations with heartwrenching speeches that cut to the heart of his thematic intentions, and this teaser seems to follow suit. After years of fans, critics, and scholars analyzing Carrie’s pain, perhaps his modern retelling will offer the titular anti-hero a chance to finally speak for herself

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