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The first monograph to critically engage with the controversial horror film subgenre known as 'torture porn', this book dissects press responses to popular horror and analyses key torture porn films, mapping out the broader conceptual and contextual concerns that shape the meanings of both 'torture' and 'porn'.
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Subtopic
Film History & CriticismPart I
âTorture Pornâ (Category)
1
âThe Past Catches Up to Everyoneâ:1 Lineage and Nostalgia
The aim of the following three chapters is to establish how âtorture pornâ has been constructed as a category, outlining characteristics that have become associated with the subgenre. Part I will establish what âtorture pornâ means, and the conditions under which those meanings are defined. The aim of examining âtorture pornâ discourse is to clarify what the subgenre âisâ according to the critics who have propagated the term. As a starting point, this chapter addresses a paradox that arises within âtorture pornâ discourse. âTorture pornâ appears to refer to a coherent category formed by films that exhibit mutual conventions and values. By providing a point of similarity, the label brushes over numerous discrepancies.
At the most basic level, torture porn films have been conceived as sharing a root commonality: torture porn is a sub-category of the horror genre. Yet, by distinguishing this subgenre as a unique grouping, the label contradictorily fosters the sense that torture porn is different to other horror subgenres. So, on one hand reviewers have overtly compared torture porn to earlier horror subgenres, such as slasher and splatter films, conceiving of torture porn as part of horrorâs generic continuum. On the other hand, such comparisons have generally been unfavourable, painting torture porn as inferior (that is, entirely different) to past horror âclassicsâ. The result is tension, which stems from the implication that both âtorture pornâ and âhorrorâ are delimited, static categories, when they are more accurately hazy gestures towards imperfect, fluid, ever-evolving sets of conventions. Delineating a subgenre perfectly is impossible since both the subgenre and the overarching genre it belongs to are in constant states of flux. The relationship between torture porn and horror will be investigated in this chapter by probing the pressâs conflicting treatments of âtorture pornâ.
Rather than accepting âtorture pornâ as a label that simply encompasses a particular body of films then, the objective of this chapter is to examine the difficulties that arise from journalistsâ uses of the label as if it signifies a fixed, delimited category. The inadequacy of âtorture pornâ in that regard is evident. For example, although the label seems to encompass all torture porn films, in practice, the discourse fails to do so. At the time of writing, 45 films have been dubbed âtorture pornâ by three or more separate articles in major English language news publications.2 Almost all of those films received theatrical releases in both the US and the UK.3 The many direct-to-DVD films that fit the âtorture pornâ paradigm have thus far been neglected in âtorture pornâ discourse. Theatrically released films have been scapegoated, meaning that the category has been mainly composed around a distributional context â the multiplex â rather than mutual conventions.
Torture pornâs content has been largely disregarded in press discourse. Consequently, the subgenre is characterised as having âsprung upâ from nowhere (Tookey, 2011), being constituted by films that are wholly distinct from earlier, âbetterâ horror movies. In actuality, the charges levelled at torture porn are uncannily similar to the scorn bestowed upon those âclassicâ horror films torture porn has been unfavourably compared to. The desire to separate past from present reveals more about criticsâ resistance to change than it does about torture porn. The segregation strategy â attacking torture porn while also defending âclassicâ horror â fails to explicate continuities within the genre, or precisely what is allegedly wrong with torture porn. Deciphering the similarities between torture porn and earlier horror â in terms of filmic content and the discourses that surround horror film â illuminates both what torture porn putatively is and is not. Torture porn neither simply replicates nor overturns prior genre attributes. The subgenre has organically evolved from its generic precursors. By mapping out problems that arise from categorisation, this chapter establishes the groundwork for the remainder of Part I, which will be devoted to factors other than filmic content that influence how torture porn is understood.
âEvery Legend Has a Beginningâ:4 shared facets and influences
Since âtorture pornâ collects films under an umbrella term, it is necessary to grasp how the label itself speaks for and shapes responses to the films classified under that rubric. Understanding torture porn as âtorture pornâ necessarily limits how each film is construed relative to that category. A cyclic logic is at play in such categorisation. Torture porn films are torture porn because they have been brought together under the banner âtorture pornâ. The label itself arose as a response to the films, and presumptions about their content. However, once in motion, âtorture pornâ imbues any film categorised as such with meanings that do not belong to the individual film itself. Labelling any film âtorture pornâ also entails washing over its idiosyncrasies, instead emphasising the presumed similarities it shares with other torture porn films.
Torture porn is conceived as a subgenre fixated on sex (âpornâ) and violence (âtortureâ). This coalescence manifests in four contentions that will recur in various guises throughout this book. First, some objectors claim that torture porn is constituted by violence, nudity, and rape. Second, violence is read as pornographic. Critics allege that torture pornâs violence is depicted in such prolonged, gory detail that its aesthetic is comparable to hardcore pornographyâs, since the latter is renowned for its close-up, genitally explicit âmeat shotsâ. Third, the âpornâ in âtorture pornâ is interpreted as a synonym for âworthlessâ. Since the films are allegedly preoccupied only with âendless displays of violenceâ (Roby, 2008), they are dismissed as throwaway, immoral entertainment. Finally, it is proposed that the films are consumed as violent fetish pornography: that viewers are sexually aroused by torture pornâs horror imagery. Torture pornâs disparagement begins with these undertones, which are inherent to the label rather than the subgenreâs filmic content. The first two contentions portray torture porn as sexually focused. As Chapter 7 will demonstrate, this misrepresents the content of the films that have been dubbed âtorture pornâ. The latter two contentions are based on unsubstantiated assumptions about reception, which, as Dean Lockwood (2008: 40) notes, conform to the âlimiting ... logic of media effectsâ. Such attempts to understand the subgenre favour paradigms that pre-exist torture porn over filmic content. As this chapter will evince, that strategy is ubiquitous in âtorture pornâ criticism.
For the moment, it is worth contemplating what exactly torture porn films do have in common. The four contentions above do not necessarily harmonise, undermining the coherence implied by âtorture pornâ and making it difficult to grasp why these films have been grouped together. However, critics have more consistently concurred about which films belong to âtorture pornâ than they have about why these films should be denigrated. Stepping back from detractorsâ insinuations and looking to the films themselves offers a clearer sense of torture pornâs root properties according to its opponents. Although diverse, the 45 films dubbed âtorture pornâ by the press share two main qualities: (a) they chiefly belong to the horror genre and (b) the narratives are primarily based around protagonists being imprisoned in confined spaces and subjected to physical and/or psychological suffering. The subgenreâs leitmotif is the lead protagonist being caged, or bound and gagged.
Criticsâ fleeting gestures towards filmic content can be utilised to refine those foundational commonalities. For example, although he is preoccupied with a contextual issue â audience reaction â Kim Newmanâs (2009a) reference to torture pornâs âdeliberately upsettingâ tone is worth considering. His grievance is surprising given that horror films intentionally foreground perilous situations, and so are customarily âdeliberately upsettingâ in tone. It is unclear why torture porn should be singled out on those grounds. Newmanâs complaint regarding the character of torture pornâs violence becomes more obvious when considering why some films have not been dubbed âtorture pornâ. Adam Greenâs Frozen concentrates on three protagonists who are imperilled by their entrapment on a ski lift. The film has not been labelled âtorture pornâ in major English language news articles despite (a) being marketed as a horror film, (b) prioritising entrapment themes, (c) setting the narrative in a restrictive diegetic space, and (d) focusing on protagonistsâ suffering. Indeed, Green (in Williamson, 2010b) has posited that the film is anti-torture porn. There are two reasons why Frozen has not been dubbed âtorture pornâ: gore is kept to a minimum, and suffering is not inflicted by a torturer. In Frozen, the teens are accidentally rather than intentionally trapped.
Human cruelty and bloodshed are key triggers that influence opponentsâ decisions about which films do or do not fit into the subgenre, and help to clarify what Newman means by torture pornâs âdeliberately upsettingâ tone. The same implication is evident in Luke Thompsonâs (2008) sweeping definition of torture porn as ârealistic horror about bad people who torture and killâ. Graphic gore (ârealistic ... tortureâ) is paramount. By proposing that torture porn narratives are about âbad peopleâ, Thompson equally alleges that torture porn narratives are invested in the calculated infliction of human cruelty.
Thompsonâs assessment that torture porn is ârealistic horrorâ is another point of consensus among critics. Jeremy Morris (2010: 45), for instance, declares that torture porn is ânever supernaturalâ. However, Somebody Help Me, Farmhouse, and Wicked Lake are among those contemporary horror films in which supernatural elements are mixed with abduction, imprisonment, and intentionally exacted torture. Such generic âslippageâ might mean that these texts fall out of the âtorture pornâ category for many critics. Indeed, these hybrid texts have rarely been termed âtorture pornâ in press reviews. It is equally telling that supernatural horror films such as Paranormal Activity and 1408 have been critically lauded specifically because they are not torture porn. John Anderson (2007a) and Kevin Williamson (2007b) both valorise 1408 because, in contrast to torture porn, the film lacks gore and is driven by ghostly forces rather than human intentions. Williamsonâs and Andersonâs views confirm that torture porn is understood as a subgenre constituted by brutal spectacle. As is typical of such argumentation, both reporters assume that torture porn is gory, but do not evince that point with reference to torture pornâs content. They thereby connote that violent spectacle itself is not worth scrutinising. Since torture porn is reputedly constituted by such superficial violence, it too is denigrated.
Content is also eschewed in favour of context where torture porn is delineated via its roots. This is a popular method for determining the meanings of âtorture pornâ in press discourse, yet the subgenreâs origins are again subject to disagreement. Assorted pundits peg torture pornâs progenitor as Hostel (Maher, 2010a) or Saw (Lidz, 2009; Floyd, 2007). Others cite the 2003 films Wrong Turn (Gordon, 2009), House of 1000 Corpses (Johnson, 2007), The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Fletcher, 2009: 82), and Switchblade Romance (Newman, 2009a) among torture pornâs originators. One difficultly in pinning down torture pornâs starting-point is that the horror genre is replete with torture-themed films. Vincent Price vehicles such as Pit and the Pendulum (1961) and the uncannily Saw-like The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971) are only two examples that pre-date âtorture pornâ. Torture-based horror is clearly not the âradical departureâ some disparagers have claimed (Fletcher, 2009: 82; see also Di Fonzo, 2007). Ergo, torture themes and genre-affiliation are not enough to distinguish torture porn as a horror subgenre, since that combination pre-exists âtorture pornâ. The category-label was coined in response to a critical mass of torture-horror production at a particular moment.
A further defining factor is thrown into relief by the candidates for torture pornâs progenitor then: âtorture pornâ is conceived as referring to torture-based horror films made after 2003. It is likely that pre-21st century horror movies will remain omitted from such analysis since they are anachronistic to the term itself. That torture porn is partially defined by era underscores the extent to which context is privileged over content in âtorture pornâ discourse. Lockwoodâs (2008: 41) question âhow should we specifically distinguish torture porn from earlier horror cinema?â is telling then, insofar as it underscores that the practice of labelling films âtorture pornâ is precisely a distinguishing strategy: the aim is to separate torture porn from its generic past rather than examining what that lineage reveals about the subgenre. Fencing torture porn in this manner is a way of closing off rather than opening up meaning.
Although the majority consensus is that torture porn belongs to the 21st century, not all critics so sharply deny torture pornâs relationship to earlier horror. Some have rooted torture porn in late 19th century Grand Guignol (Anderson, 2007c; Johnson, 2007). In other cases, torture porn has been linked to previous subgenres such as the splatter film (Fletcher, 2009: 81; Benson-Allott, 2008: 23), to specific filmmakers including Herschell Gordon Lewis (N.a. 2010c; Johnson, 2007), Lucio Fulci (Kermode, 2010), and Dario Argento (Hornaday, 2008b), or to âclassicâ horror touchstones such as Peeping Tom (Huntley, 2007; Kendall, 2008), and the original The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Felperin, 2008; Safire, 2007). Numerous torture porn filmmakers explicitly concur with these correlations in their DVD commentaries,5 since doing so allows them to appropriate the cultural reputation those earlier horror films and filmmakers carry. Torture pornâs filmmakers and critics customarily share a respect for horrorâs past, then. That similarity notwithstanding, âtorture pornâ discourse is constituted by opposing attitudes to torture pornâs relationship with earlier horror. On one hand, decriers have dismissed torture porn by separating it from âclassicâ horror. On the other, since torture porn is a horror subgenre and is compared to these past âclassicsâ, its lineage cannot be evaded. These tensions become apparent when torture porn is compared to its predecessors.
âIâve seen a lot of slasher flicksâ6
In seeking to establish what âtorture pornâ is, critics recurrently use the slasher subgenre as a point of reference. Some have cited the slasher as a primary influence on torture porn filmmakers (Hulse, 2007: 17; Kendrick, 2009: 17; Safire, 2007). Others have referred to torture porn films as slashers (see Platellâs (2008) review of Donkey Punch, for instance). Furthermore, some torture porn films such as The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003) are remakes of slasher originals. These correlations are apt given that torture porn shares aspects of the slasher formula. Slasher narratives typically entail killers stalking teenagers in a specific locale such as Camp Crystal Lake in Friday the 13th, or the town of Haddonfield in Halloween. Torture pornâs imprisonment themes distil that formula by making it harder for protagonists to evade threat. Since they are often confined, escaping their tormentor is more difficult for torture pornâs captives than it is for the slasherâs teens. Torture pornâs adaptation of slasher filmsâ stalking conventions thus amplifies tension. When one character survives in torture porn â Wade in Invitation Only, or Yasmine in Frontier(s), for example â their freedom is even more hard won than it was for the slasherâs survivors. Torture porn increases the stakes by levelling the field. In torture porn, it is rare to find lead protagonists who are unambiguous...
Table of contents
- Cover
- Title
- Introduction: Welcome to Your Worst Nightmare
- Part IÂ Â Torture Porn (Category)
- Part IIÂ Â Torture (Morality)
- Part IIIÂ Â Porn (Extremity)
- Notes
- Bibliography
- Filmography
- Index