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Sex, Death & the Slasher: An LMF Workshop

Sep 4
4 min read

Words: Elliott Bennett


Sex, Death & the Slasher was a workshop presented by LMF in August, led by Em J Gilbertson and Elliott Bennett, hosted before our exclusive preview of Jane Schoenbrun’s new film, Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, starring Gillian Anderson and Hannah Einbinder.


Following the American slasher film from its early beginnings to the blood-soaked films of the 1990s, before turning towards queer and trans horror. Through watching clips, discussing themes, sex, punishment, bodies and transformation, together the group built a slasher for the 2020s and developed short horror ideas of their own.


One of our workshop hosts, Elliott, shares their thoughts on the day:


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Sex, Death & the Slasher was just a really fun day.


From the get-go, I loved that we were facilitating the opportunity to look at films that I think are often disregarded - even by people who genuinely enjoy them. They can sometimes be treated as a one-trick pony: a familiar trope, a recognisable villain, a formula that we already know how to read. Instead, we wanted to take the time to look a little closer and ask what these films were actually saying, what cultural conversations they were part of when they were released, and, perhaps most importantly, why those conversations can still have relevance today.


The thing that truly made the day so enjoyable was how enthusiastic our workshop attendees were. There really were no wrong answers. Film interpretation is inherently personal, and the group embraced that. We had people of different ages and genders, people who had seen the films and people who hadn't, and everyone brought their own perspective to the discussion.


It was particularly rewarding to see people realise that a film isn't simply a trope. It isn't just the surface-level story we might initially associate with it. Once we started unpacking those tropes and stereotypes, people began to see different possibilities in them. A particular reading might prompt someone to say, "I'd never thought about it that way," which would then lead somebody else to offer an entirely different interpretation.

Discussion highlights include (but are not limited to) whether Michael Myers is the only straight slasher. Which on the surface, sounds like a slightly ridiculous question, but lead to some really interesting discussion! It opened up a much broader conversation about sexuality, the construction of the slasher, and what we assume about these characters and their desires. It demonstrated how even the most familiar horror figures can become much more interesting when we stop taking their characteristics for granted.


These conversations fed directly into group activity. Working in groups of five, participants were asked to come up with an idea for a slasher that could become part of that wider cultural discourse. They could take the tropes we had discussed and build upon them, invert them, interrogate them, or completely rethink them.


What was especially exciting in this was the variety: nobody simply went for the obvious interpretation. There was a huge difference between the projects and ideas people came up with, and it was clear that the earlier discussions had given them permission to experiment. Some people were so inspired by their ideas that they wanted to take them further beyond the session, which was exactly the kind of response we had hoped for.


Later in the afternoon, we moved into a discussion around queer storytelling. We travelled through literature and early cinema into modern cinema and television, looking at the ways personal circumstances and experiences can become the basis for metaphor and storytelling. There was no expectation that anyone had to present anything personal, but it was interesting to see how vulnerable people were willing to become when they wanted to explore those ideas.


Again, people seemed genuinely inspired to take those ideas further. It became less about simply analysing films and more about understanding how we can use storytelling to process, question and communicate our own experiences.


That was probably my favourite thing about the day: people didn't really want it to end. They stayed around to chat, asked questions about other things we have going on, and talked about their own ideas. There was a real sense that the conversations we'd started hadn't finished when the scheduled sessions were over.


I think that's particularly important when we're talking about horror. Horror films can deal with incredibly intense subjects and some very deep themes. They can reflect the anxieties, prejudices and cultural conversations of the periods in which they were made. Sometimes those messages are obvious; sometimes they're buried beneath layers of genre convention, stereotypes and familiar imagery.


Looking at horror films as cultural artefacts gives us a chance to understand them differently. It allows us to acknowledge the issues and attitudes of their time while also asking what they might mean to us now. It isn't necessarily about deciding whether a film is "good" or "bad", or whether its ideas are right or wrong. It's about being willing to interrogate what we're watching.


And I think that's what I saw happening throughout the day: people looking a little closer.


Maybe some people left with a newfound respect for films they had previously dismissed. Maybe others had their love of the genre completely reinvigorated. Hopefully, everyone left with the feeling that there is always something more to discover in a film - even one they thought they already knew.


For me, that was the real success of the day. It wasn't just about watching horror. It was about understanding why these films matter, what they can tell us about the cultures that produced them, and what they might still have to say to us now.


And, of course, having 40 people agree that Michael Myers is the only straight slasher.


It felt like a pretty good way to lead into Camp Miasma.

 
 
 

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