Horror films have harbored some of the most complex and fascinating representations of monstrosity for audiences over the decades. Unfortunately, an even more dangerous trend persists when they portray disabled characters. The new film Poor Things features Willem Dafoe’s “deformed … scary face.” This representation is one of the most notable examples of the harmful representation of disability throughout the genre. This film continues a long tradition that often associates physical abnormalities or differences with moral corruption and evil. It stands with films such as Stalker and Don’t Look Now in this eerie curse.
At its core, the horror genre has the potential to explore the human condition. It frequently resorts to “othering” those who look different. Movies such as The Haunting, The Wicker Man, and The Vanishing confront the most difficult aspects of fear. They accomplish this artfully, avoiding ableism along the way. Recent films such as Get Out, Saint Maud, and Presence demonstrate the power of engaging stories. They don’t just get it right, they nail it by honoring and humanizing people with disabilities.
Other recent films illustrate this issue. In Stalker, a mute and paraplegic girl encounters the “mutant” mark. At the same time, Don’t Look Now adds to the damage with its portrayal of a “dwarf serial killer,” continuing to spread harmful tropes. In Midsommar, a character referred to only as “the disabled one” draws attention to a more disturbing pattern. This troubling trend treats people as their disabilities rather than honoring their full humanity.
Films such as Bring Her Back feature Sora Wong as Piper, a very low vision character. This authentic representation paints a depth and richness to characters with disabilities beyond language, creating multi-dimensional storytelling. The industry continues to have a hard time portraying disabled people in an authentic way. They make up just 2% of the film and television workforce, with more than 20% of other industries represented.
The continuing conflation of disability with monstrosity or vice is dangerous to real disabled people and one that adds to societal stigma. Guillermo del Toro’s adaptation of Frankenstein, despite receiving acclaim with a 15-minute standing ovation at Venice Film Festival, faced criticism for failing to grasp the book’s message regarding disability. This is indicative of an overall lack of understanding within the industry on how to responsibly engage with themes of disability.
Saou Ichikawa’s analysis of the “criminalisation of the gaze” helps to explain why. Ichikawa notes that “the criminalisation of the gaze that took hold around the dawn of the 20th century had led to the decline of the freak show, which was subsequently replaced in popularity by the Monsters of Hollywood.” This change meant that viewers were invited to enjoy the pleasures of deformity in a purely voyeuristic way, without shame or inhibition.
Movies such as The Ugly Stepsister, which uses self-mutilation with resulting disability as a marginalizing trope, make this situation even worse. Such portrayals aren’t uncommon in the industry. We hope they aren’t indicative of a trend to exploit physical differences for shock value rather than educate and foster more understanding and inclusivity.
There is hope for change. Recent entries such as Bones and All, where a mother has a disability, and The Banshees of Inisherin, featuring Brendan Gleeson’s character with a disability, indicate a movement towards more thoughtful representations. Theatrical shorts like Longlegs, The Substance, Heretic, and Weapons feature disabled characters that wear prosthetics. This trend is the manifestation of a greater awareness and sensitivity in storytelling.
Working with the horror genre can be an incredibly effective lens in unpacking society’s fears and anxieties. It is critical that creators understand how their decisions shape the world’s understanding of disabilities. As leaders of the disability rights movement like to remind us, “Nothing about us without us.” This evocative sentiment underscores the power and necessity of accurate, authentic representation on our screens. In order for filmmakers to tell their own stories authentically, they need to incorporate disabled voices.