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The Queer Horror of “Chucky”: Episode 2.07 – ‘Goin’ to the Chapel’

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Each week Joe Lipsett will highlight a key scene or interaction in S02 of Don Mancini’s Chucky series to consider how the show is engaging with and contributing to queer horror.

The time has come to finally tackle queerness in the Church. When it was revealed that Chucky S02 would take place at a Catholic school and Jake (Zackary Arthur), Devon (Björgvin Arnarson) and Lexy (Alyvia Alyn Lind) would likely face the wrath of priests and nuns, I anticipated this topic would come up at some point.

Before the season debuted, Don Mancini was interviewed about the new location and addressed how Catholicism would play into season two. Per i09:

“One of the struggles that young gay people often have is tension with their faith,” Mancini said. “As a kid who was raised Catholic, I certainly had authority figures waving their fingers at me, telling me that I was bad and going to hell.”

Considering how central Devon and Jake’s relationship was to the first season, it seemed obvious that their queerness would be a source of conflict in this new environment. And then there was the question of whether the show would dare to tackle the elephant in the room: accusations of pedophilia and sexual abuse within the church.

The show (wisely) never addressed that controversial territory, though there have been more than a few telling moments of secret queerness littered throughout the season. Most specifically, Trace and I did wonder about the sexual orientation of Devon Sawa’s Father Bryce in our Chucky Queers coverage on Horror Queers. There’s a very telling moment in episode 2.03 “Hail, Mary!” when the priest observes Jake and Devon kissing in a stairwell and not only does Father Bryce not interrupt them, he doesn’t address it or punish them. At the time Trace and I wondered if this meant that he was struggling with and/or suppressing his own sexuality, which isn’t condoned by the Church.

For reference, all Catholic priests take vows of celibacy at their ordination, meaning that they will remain abstinent and unmarried throughout their lives. Technically, however, gay men aren’t meant to be ordained at all (the Church clarified its position in both 2005 and 2008 when it listed “uncertain sexual identity” and “deeply rooted or deep-seated homosexual tendencies” as conditions for exclusion).

A 2019 New York Times editorial by Elizabeth Dias entitled “It Is Not a Closet. It Is a Cage.’ Gay Catholic Priests Speak Out” includes an incredible statistic about the prevalence of gay men living a secret life of shame: “Fewer than about 10 priests in the United States have dared to come out publicly. But gay men probably make up at least 30 to 40 percent of the American Catholic clergy, according to dozens of estimates from gay priests themselves and researchers. Some priests say the number is closer to 75 percent. There are more moderate estimates included in Rev. Donald B. Cozzens’ 2020 book The Changing Face of Priesthood (referenced in this America Magazine piece), but the figures could still be as high as 50-58%.

With these statistics in mind, it’s completely reasonable to believe that the “different” qualities that Father Bryce mentions in the black and white confessional sequence is that he’s gay.

Father Bryce never actually says the words “I’m gay,” but the truth is that he doesn’t have to.* To queer audiences used to reading the subtext in the room, the following dialogue is as clear as day: “I always judge people so harshly. I think that’s because of how hard I treat myself. The Church has always been a refuge for people like me. They’ve never fully accepted us either. I’ve always known that I was different” (emphasis added).

Some folks could argue that his sexual orientation hardly matters since Bryce has already been dramatically exploded in slow motion (and from multiple perspectives) by this point. Regardless, the representation of a young, queer Priest who observes but doesn’t punish Jake and Devon for something he himself isn’t allowed to be is a fascinating and even tragic character arc.

Leave it to Mancini and co. to give Father Bryce a humanizing, tear-jerking semi-coming out scene immediately after spectacularly blowing the poor man up in the most over the top, bombastic death of the season. RIP Father Bryce.

*But also, let’s be real: only a gay priest would have a ripped body like that, no?

Joe is a TV addict with a background in Film Studies. He co-created TV/Film Fest blog QueerHorrorMovies and writes for Bloody Disgusting, Anatomy of a Scream, That Shelf, The Spool and Grim Magazine. He enjoys graphic novels, dark beer and plays multiple sports (adequately, never exceptionally). While he loves all horror, if given a choice, Joe always opts for slashers and creature features.

Editorials

Finding Faith and Violence in ‘The Book of Eli’ 14 Years Later

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Having grown up in a religious family, Christian movie night was something that happened a lot more often than I care to admit. However, back when I was a teenager, my parents showed up one night with an unusually cool-looking DVD of a movie that had been recommended to them by a church leader. Curious to see what new kind of evangelical propaganda my parents had rented this time, I proceeded to watch the film with them expecting a heavy-handed snoozefest.

To my surprise, I was a few minutes in when Denzel Washington proceeded to dismember a band of cannibal raiders when I realized that this was in fact a real movie. My mom was horrified by the flick’s extreme violence and dark subject matter, but I instantly became a fan of the Hughes Brothers’ faith-based 2010 thriller, The Book of Eli. And with the film’s atomic apocalypse having apparently taken place in 2024, I think this is the perfect time to dive into why this grim parable might also be entertaining for horror fans.

Originally penned by gaming journalist and The Walking Dead: The Game co-writer Gary Whitta, the spec script for The Book of Eli was already making waves back in 2007 when it appeared on the coveted Blacklist. It wasn’t long before Columbia and Warner Bros. snatched up the rights to the project, hiring From Hell directors Albert and Allen Hughes while also garnering attention from industry heavyweights like Denzel Washington and Gary Oldman.

After a series of revisions by Anthony Peckham meant to make the story more consumer-friendly, the picture was finally released in January of 2010, with the finished film following Denzel as a mysterious wanderer making his way across a post-apocalyptic America while protecting a sacred book. Along the way, he encounters a run-down settlement controlled by Bill Carnegie (Gary Oldman), a man desperate to get his hands on Eli’s book so he can motivate his underlings to expand his empire. Unwilling to let this power fall into the wrong hands, Eli embarks on a dangerous journey that will test the limits of his faith.


SO WHY IS IT WORTH WATCHING?

Judging by the film’s box-office success, mainstream audiences appear to have enjoyed the Hughes’ bleak vision of a future where everything went wrong, but critics were left divided by the flick’s trope-heavy narrative and unapologetic religious elements. And while I’ll be the first to admit that The Book of Eli isn’t particularly subtle or original, I appreciate the film’s earnest execution of familiar ideas.

For starters, I’d like to address the religious elephant in the room, as I understand the hesitation that some folks (myself included) might have about watching something that sounds like Christian propaganda. Faith does indeed play a huge part in the narrative here, but I’d argue that the film is more about the power of stories than a specific religion. The entire point of Oldman’s character is that he needs a unifying narrative that he can take advantage of in order to manipulate others, while Eli ultimately chooses to deliver his gift to a community of scholars. In fact, the movie even makes a point of placing the Bible in between equally culturally important books like the Torah and Quran, which I think is pretty poignant for a flick inspired by exploitation cinema.

Sure, the film has its fair share of logical inconsistencies (ranging from the extent of Eli’s Daredevil superpowers to his impossibly small Braille Bible), but I think the film more than makes up for these nitpicks with a genuine passion for classic post-apocalyptic cinema. Several critics accused the film of being a knockoff of superior productions, but I’d argue that both Whitta and the Hughes knowingly crafted a loving pastiche of genre influences like Mad Max and A Boy and His Dog.

Lastly, it’s no surprise that the cast here absolutely kicks ass. Denzel plays the title role of a stoic badass perfectly (going so far as to train with Bruce Lee’s protégée in order to perform his own stunts) while Oldman effortlessly assumes a surprisingly subdued yet incredibly intimidating persona. Even Mila Kunis is remarkably charming here, though I wish the script had taken the time to develop these secondary characters a little further. And hey, did I mention that Tom Waits is in this?


AND WHAT MAKES IT HORROR ADJACENT?

Denzel’s very first interaction with another human being in this movie results in a gory fight scene culminating in a face-off against a masked brute wielding a chainsaw (which he presumably uses to butcher travelers before eating them), so I think it’s safe to say that this dog-eat-dog vision of America will likely appeal to horror fans.

From diseased cannibals to hyper-violent motorcycle gangs roaming the wasteland, there’s plenty of disturbing R-rated material here – which is even more impressive when you remember that this story revolves around the bible. And while there are a few too many references to sexual assault for my taste, even if it does make sense in-universe, the flick does a great job of immersing you in this post-nuclear nightmare.

The excessively depressing color palette and obvious green screen effects may take some viewers out of the experience, but the beat-up and lived-in sets and costume design do their best to bring this dead world to life – which might just be the scariest part of the experience.

Ultimately, I believe your enjoyment of The Book of Eli will largely depend on how willing you are to overlook some ham-fisted biblical references in order to enjoy some brutal post-apocalyptic shenanigans. And while I can’t really blame folks who’d rather not deal with that, I think it would be a shame to miss out on a genuinely engaging thrill-ride because of one minor detail.

With that in mind, I’m incredibly curious to see what Whitta and the Hughes Brothers have planned for the upcoming prequel series starring John Boyega


There’s no understating the importance of a balanced media diet, and since bloody and disgusting entertainment isn’t exclusive to the horror genre, we’ve come up with Horror Adjacent – a recurring column where we recommend non-horror movies that horror fans might enjoy.

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