The Alien Feminine: Birth and Pregnancy as a Horror Spectacle.

by Emily Costello

The magic of childbirth, that incredible moment a new life is brought into the world, described as fulfilling, life-altering, and even beautiful. Yet in the current climate of the dismantling of Roe vs. Wade and the ever-underlying male control over women's reproductive health this ‘magic’ can take on a more sinister context. Not to mention how pregnancy makes a woman feel. Expected to glow with maternal energy, often women feel exhausted, emotional, and out of control. Sore feet, backaches, headaches, and sickness are all part and parcel of the experience. It's no surprise that pregnancy and birth are such popular themes in both classic and contemporary horror. Motherhood, or more specifically, the failure of mothers has always been the foundation of many horror films. Overbearing, emasculating Norma Bates in Psycho (1960) (Hitchcock’s favourite motif was the obsessive mother figure), murderous Pamela Voorhees in Friday the 13th, and abusively pious Margaret White in Carrie to name a few. Throw in the potential for body horror and the insane concept of another being relying on your life force to survive and you have all the ingredients for a terrifying horror film.

Ripley Scott’s Alien (1979) is one of the most terrifying and gripping horror films I have ever seen (and I’ve seen a lot). The setting, the ‘Nostromo’, a claustrophobic ship far away from Earth, and the gradual picking off of the crew makes for a gruesome watch. Ellen Ripley (Sigourney Weaver) the crew’s warrant officer and one of the horror genre's most impressive ‘final girls’ is the only survivor of the extraterrestrial’s horrific attack. The film deals with many themes, including corruption and lack of care for the crew by the wealthy commercial company they work for, as well as general morality issues frequently found in horror/science fiction films. Yet throughout the film is a simmering fear, a creeping threat of impregnation. The alien hosts itself in its victims and spreads through birth, albeit an unconventional kind as being impregnated by the alien involves certain death.

Chest burst scene from Alien, 20th Century Fox.

The most famous and brutal scene of the original film involves an unsuspecting Officer Kane (John Hurt) enjoying dinner with his crew, everything appears normal until the alien host bursts from his chest in a spray of blood and guts, eventually killing him and slipping free into the ship. This ‘birth’ is graphic and disgusting but like human birth, reflects the physical toll that can be taken on the female body, the blood, sweat, and tears, as well as the very real danger pregnancy can pose for a woman. The involuntary implantation of the alien within Kane could be a metaphor for sexual assault. Barbara Creed even described it as the fear of male rape and female anatomy (perhaps even autonomy) “horrible objects of dread and fascination” in her essay ‘Alien and the Monstrous Feminine’. It is undeniable, however, that part of the meaning behind the portrayal of birth in Alien is the sheer power possessed by pregnant women and the fear that it inspires in not just men, but the patriarchal society as a whole. In their book ‘Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers: Monstrosity, Patriarchy and the Fear of Female Power’, Sady Doyle sums the concept up perfectly, “to witness pregnancy and birth is to catch an unfiltered glimpse of a woman with power over life and death-power that men cannot take away.” The xenomorphs in Alien represent male fear of this female power, and therefore their desire to control it at all costs.

The character of Ash (Ian Holm) the scientist aboard the ship is the manifestation of this desire. In the birth scene, he is seen to hold the others back from nearing Kane or interfering with the birth and even prevents another crew member from killing it which allows it to slip away into the ship, indirectly causing the deaths of the crew. It is later discovered that Ash is an android,

Shower shot from Alien III Trailer, 1992.

instructed by the company to ensure the creature's survival even at the expense of the ship’s workers. The crew here could represent the mother, with the creature as a fetus. In the eyes of pro-life anti-abortion supporters, the company, they are disposable as long as the protection of the creature is insured, much like how those who are intimidated, threatened, and even barred by law from receiving perfectly ethical and sometimes even lifesaving abortions can feel. The horror many women feel watching abortion laws become overturned, like Roe v Wade very recently in the USA, and the fear of being forced to carry a fetus against their will is reflected in Ripley’s disgust and terror at the company’s greed tnd lack of morality surrounding her and her crew. This abortion metaphor is even expanded upon fully in the third installment of the franchise as discussed by Heather O’Neill in her online article, ‘Horror Films Understand the Terror of Pregnancy’. In Alien 3 (David Fincher, 1992) when faced with being forced to carry the implanted alien to full term, Ripley chooses to end her own life rather than allow it to live on to profit from the greed of the company she works for. alien-feminine

I have spent all the time since I watched Men(Alex Garland, 2022) deciding whether I liked it or not. Undoubtedly at times frightening, Garland has an excellent grasp on what makes a successful horror film, with incredible suspense tactics strewn throughout. The film is incredibly frustrating and one of my criticisms is the lack of actual content in favour of constant symbolism which is less effective than perhaps Garland hoped. In an article for online magazine The Wrap, Harper Lambert describes the film as “full of allusions to original sin, the idea that every person carries on the transgression committed by Adam and Eve when Eve ate forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden.” However, the film feels off, misguided, and not particularly impactful, despite this quite likely being its intention. The very core of the film can be defined by the phrase ‘not all men’, with its heroine, a recent survivor of domestic abuse, receiving a sliding scale of sexist hate crimes from the unsettling misogynistic comments that most women experience on a daily basis to full-blown naked stalking. Something about it is wrong, perhaps it is the man behind the camera, his thematic choices screaming ‘Look at me, I’m a feminist too!’ whilst discussing incidents of sexism most women are forced to understand or accept by the age of twelve at his ripe age of fifty-three. Garland makes the most obvious point surrounding the topic he could have possibly; patriarchal misogyny gives birth to more misogyny and drives it home with the most incredulously literal metaphor. The ending of Men involves her stalker giving birth to all the other male characters seen in the film whom she has received misogynistic treatment from and eventually to her late husband, who after hitting her as she threatened to leave him, flung himself off a balcony to his death after she locked him out. The scene is graphic and hard to stomach, though not like in Alien, where the scene aids both narrative and metaphorical aims, but in a tasteless way. The birth is horrific to watch and the implementation of something only those with female reproductive organs can experience to drive home a point about toxic masculinity just feels inappropriate. In his review of the film for the Sunday Times, Kevin Maher describes how Men "culminates in a protracted, effects-filled birthing sequence that manages, after 90 minutes of man-hating, to be aggressively misogynistic." Whilst I disagree with his use of the term man-hating, Maher has the right of it. The scene's depiction of birth feels both unnecessary and out of place if not gratuitous, ruining the incredible suspense and effectively used horror techniques Garland implements earlier in the film.

Shot from Men Trailer, 2022.

It would be impossible to discuss pregnancy in horror without touching on Rosemary's Baby (Roman Polanski, 1968). Although he is a disgusting pedophile who I in no way endorse, Polanski’s films have contributed significantly to the horror genre and Rosemary’s Baby is no exception. Mia Farrow stars as Rosemary Woodhouse, who discovers her husband and neighbours are in a satanic cult after she is raped by Satan himself and gives birth to the antichrist. In Heather O’Neill’s article, she discusses how watching Rosemary’s Baby actually comforted her fear of her own pregnancy, as she felt similar to the way Mia Farrow’s character feels in the film; “I was also so happy that her pregnancy was horrifying.” Rosemary’s Baby preys on a common fear for pregnant women, that the baby inside of them is something evil. The film also implements framing to convey Rosemary’s horrific paranoia and to align the audience with her and her fear, which makes the film all the more terrifying. Rosemary’s Baby could be viewed as a metaphor for the patriarchal societal control over female reproductive rights and pregnancy itself. Rosemary’s husband and the satanic cult cannot proceed with their plan without Rosemary, as her body is essential to carrying the baby, yet they care very little about her safety, mental health, or emotional well-being beyond the fetus. She is isolated, frightened, and gaslighted about her fears for herself as everyone who cares about her is slowly removed from her life. This could represent the current state of pro-life right-wing perspective on abortion, where governments containing majority male politicians (with sometimes the occasional token female one to appear diverse, see Greta Gerwig’s 2023 masterpiece Barbie for a full explanation) make laws and decisions on the female reproductive system and their rights to safe healthcare, abortions and contraception, often ignoring the effect it can have on their wellbeing, let alone the general female perspectives on the matter.

Shot of Bella in front of a mirror from Twilight Breaking Dawn Part One Trailer, 2011.

Perhaps not a horror film, though certainly, a horrific and memorable depiction of pregnancy is Bella Swan’s in the Twilight Saga:Breaking Dawn Part One (Bill Condon, 2011). Bella’s attitude towards her baby is strange, as even though the fetus is killing her by draining her blood (not unlike Mia Farrow’s character in Rosemary’s Baby) she is insistent on protecting it and asks Edward to protect his life over her own. Stephanie Meyer is a Mormon, from the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and this is subtly infused into her writing, unintentionally or not driving a generation of young girls into a potentially dangerous pro-life perspective that their own life and autonomy has little value once they are carrying a fetus, even if their life is at risk.

I sense the irony in my discussion and occasional criticism of male filmmakers' presentation of birth and pregnancy while not including any horror birth-centered films directed by women. There are very few and the few that exist I have found hard to access. Horror is a very male-dominated genre, despite its frequent reliance on feminity and female characters to drive its themes and narratives, yet that is no excuse for their lack of inclusion. I also want to clarify that I deeply respect and admire pregnancy and pregnant women, and they are not reduced to their portrayal in horror or complex metaphors utilized to signify greater societal issues. Perhaps in future entries into the horror genre female filmmakers will be given a wider berth to explore the subject on a more personal and intricate level.

by Emily Costello, September 2023.

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