We Are The Monsters
Content note: descriptions of violent film scenes and discussion of horror.
When I watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show for the first time at a sleepover in sixth grade, I was terrified. Not by the violent murder scene (which involves Meatloaf), but by the silhouetted love scene between Brad and Frank-N-Furter. A guy and a gender-ambiguous Tim Curry… doing it? How could it be? Wasn't that… wrong?
Something began to stir, like a ghoul writhing in its grave. I was scared, because deep down I knew I was just like them. Freakish. Monstrous. Queer.
And I could not get enough.
Horror and queerness have a long history together. In Monsters in the Closet: Homosexuality and the Horror Film, Harry Benshoff catalogues and critiques queer creators, characters and themes across the genre, from gothic novels like Horace Walpole's The Castle of Otranto (1764) to Clive Barker's Hellraiser (1987). He argues that the Other has always terrified those clutching the pearls of the dominant culture, and that within a cisheteronormative society, queer people are the monsters. We are bloodthirsty, perverse ghouls, forever on the hunt for victims to turn them, infect them, groom them. Or so they say. This unfounded fear of queer people as predators has been around for ages and, sadly, it persists.
Perhaps that is why I find myself rooting for the monster. My heart is with those who are othered, exiled, misunderstood, different. Maybe things would have gone differently for Frankenstein's creation if anyone had bothered to see him for who he actually was.
A final thought on horror: there’s something about experiencing those uncomfortable emotions, such as fear and dread, from the safety of the movie theatre, or the comfort of my own couch. And in a world that can be overwhelmingly scary, maybe vampires, werewolves, zombies, and demons don’t seem that bad after all.
So…if you dare…read on for some frighteningly queer books, films and shows from myself and my fellow horror-obsessed scare-apist at Charlotte Pidgeon Psychotherapy, Cassidy Connolly.
Ella's Recommendations
The X-Files (1993–2002)
Technically not queer, but I can’t help reading the smoulderingly chaste romance between Agents Mulder and Scully as a butch-femme dynamic. He is an outcast who carries himself with the audacity of someone daring to be different. She is a demure doctor who wears pant suits to go alien hunting in the woods. What more can I say?
PS: Gillian Anderson recently came out as pansexual. We claim her!
Buffy the Vampire Slayer (1997–2003)
Chances are you have already watched this start to finish, and if you are anything like me, more than once. I came for the vampire makeup and the nineties fits. I stayed for one of the first sustained lesbian relationships involving a series regular on US network primetime. SPOILER It does not end well (ever heard of “Bury Your Gays”?). Progress for its time, all the same.
Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin (2022)
This novel is not for the faint of heart. But if you love gore and feel less than enthusiastic about TERFs, Manhunt is probably for you. Disturbing, disgusting, hilarious, and the most fun I have ever had reading about the collapse of civilization. Felker-Martin followed this one up with Cuckoo (2024), a more intricately plotted take on a “conversion camp” run by bloodthirsty aliens. Next for me is Black Flame.
Attachment (2022)
As a Jewish lesbian, this one ticks a number of boxes. You get U-Hauling, mommy issues, and an enormous quantity of boundary crossings, both interpersonal and interdimensional. The plot twist left me gagged.
Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (2026)
I could not begin to describe the plot or tell you what it means, but I give it ten out of ten for mirthful gore and for featuring more than one lesbian sex scene. By the way, this is Gillian Anderson’s second appearance on this list. Iconic, much?
Cassidy's Recommendations
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)
Obviously. A cult classic and a queer, hilarious, spooky romp, featuring arguably Tim Curry's most iconic performance. Frequently screened and performed by local theatres, where it becomes a real community event: costumes, props, and call-and-response scripts running alongside the dialogue.
Labyrinth (1986)
The delightfully androgynous David Bowie at the centre of a maze full of Henson puppets. Every scrap of eighties costuming you could want, plus one particularly sensational piece of stunt work from Bowie.
The Babadook (2014)
Admittedly this one is more about grief and trauma. But the gloriously unhinged internet discourse about why the Babadook is a queer icon earns it a place in the category on sheer merit.
It: Chapter One (2017) and Chapter Two (2019)
Possibly another stretch, but the reboot frames Richie Tozier (played by Finn Wolfhard and then Bill Hader) as queer, and it made me cry a little, because I love this story far too much.
Hollow by Celina Myers (2025)
A novel from spooky influencer CelinaSpookyBoo. The female main character is queer, there are vampires, and the neurodivergence representation is great. Worth reading for the prologue alone.
Honourable mentions (not technically queer, but the vibes are undeniable): The Craft (1996), Practical Magic (1998), The Evil Dead (1981), Ginger Snaps (2000).
Written By: Ella Rowan
With contributions from: Cassidy Connolly
