[rating=7.00]
Horror and teen sex share an undeniable symbiotic relationship. Academic careers have been made exploring the role of sex and sexuality in the horror tales we see and tell each other, and the unspoken societal feelings about sex are typically explored within the relatively safe space of horror. There’s certainly a puritanical bent to the presentation—we all know that the virginal Good Girl will be the last one standing after the madman’s blood bath has ended, rewarded by the horror gods for her purity and grace.
Too often these horror rules impede the conversation, however. A case can—and should—be made that the real horror is the acceptance of not just teenage sexuality but of female teenage sexuality (and female sexuality in general). We are a culture that still, somehow, balks at the notions of female sex and sexuality, hiding from it like we might a madman with an axe and a hockey mask. Conventional horror serves to bolster these outmoded ideas by celebrating the notion of virginal purity and the elevation of the good girl in culture.
Frankly, it’s boring. Teens have sex; women enjoy sex. It is as it always has been, and the sooner we accept this about humans the better off we’ll be culturally. Snatchers is a film that leans into the concept of teenage—and female—sexuality, forcing us to confront our own notions about sex and our cultural handling of teenage sexuality.
The film, based on a short that premiered at SXSW 2016, follows Sara (Mary Nepi) who, after her first sexual experience, finds herself suddenly 9 months pregnant. She soon gives birth to a pair an alien creatures who attach themselves to the brains of their victims in the hope of birthing more and more creatures to, like a virus, take over the world. Now Sara and her friend Hayley (Gabrielle Elyse) must join forces to try and stop the take over before it can begin.
While conceptually Snatchers is intriguing, it is too often hindered by a script (written by co-directors Stephan Cedars and Benji Kleiman, with Scott Yacyshyn) that feels too unfocused and slapdash to really shine. While the film is billed as a horror-comedy, the comedic elements of Snatchers are often groan-worthy attempts at teenage humor laced with dialogue that feels a lot like adults trying (and failing) to emulate what they think teenage girls talk like.
Though the comedy may not be up to snuff, the horror elements are where Snatchers truly shines. Cedars and Kleiman, as directors, display a unique talent for camp horror and their scenes are quite often wildly inventive. Topped by some outstanding creature and special effects, Cedars and Kleiman shine when the going gets bloody. Even while the focus remains mostly comedic, it’s hard to deny how well they work with classic horror effects and gallons of fake blood.
Nepi and Elyse make for an outstanding pair of horror heroes, even if their material is often awkward and stunted by bad dialogue. Sara and Hayley are irrefutably badass as they face down the demons of their burgeoning sexuality and teenage angst, which take an amazing form in the outstanding creature effects.
While there’s certainly room for improvement in Snatchers—it’s hard to consciously make a camp classic—the charms of the film for the most part outweigh its problems. If you can get past the too frequent moments of bad dialogue and the overall feeling of trying-to-hard-to-emulate-the-kids, there’s a lot to enjoy in this ultimately inventive and fun midnight horror feature.
