As I stated in my review of Wolfen, I have the utmost appreciation for the genre of werewolf films because, in ratio to the other fields within the realm of horror, the filmmakers of lycanthrope cinema seem to demand more meaning for their buck. Having constructed a taunt feminist commentary relating to the mental, emotional, and physical confusion experienced at the offset of puberty, a study upon teenage sibling bonds, and a vicious satire on how society views such topics, director John Fawcett and screenwriter Karen Walton justly deserve every ounce of critical praise they have thus received for their masterpiece, Ginger Snaps.
Sixteen year-old Ginger (Katharine Isabelle, Freddy vs. Jason) and her sister, fifteen year-old Brigitte (Emily Perkins), condescendingly referred to by the “in crowd” as the “Fitzgerald Sisters,” pass their bored Bailey Downs high school days staging mock, morbid suicide scenes (reminiscent of Hal Ashby’s Harold and Maude), documenting them via photograph for a school project as they fantasize about honoring their sibling suicide pact, which is creatively honed by discussions of their peers’ hypothetical demises, thereby leaving their humdrum existence. Though both readily indulge in the gothic lifestyle, neither are prepared for what is to come once a werewolf attacks Ginger. To make matters worse, their mother, Pamela (Mimi Rogers, The Player, The Doors) attempts to condole the sisters for being truant in beginning their menstrual cycles. However, once Ginger reaches menarche, confusion arises as the school nurse (Lindsay Leese) misinterprets the symptoms which Ginger describes and, as she makes rash, veteran ovulation proclamations, Ginger consequently dismisses her gradual transformation into a werewolf as mere overreaction to her recent hormonal shift. Further complications ensue when Ginger begins attracting the attention of the high school males as her urge for sex begins to merge with a desire for blood while the bond between her and Brigitte begins to sever.
As with all great horror films, the antagonist, typically a monster, is symbolic of some social ill. Thus, Fawcett uses the medium as a metaphor in his telling of the classic werewolf myth in which he correlates the coincidental frequency of ovulation with the cycles of the full moon. Not content to merely formulate an arbitrary metaphor upon which to base a premise, he parallels the transformation of a girl into a woman to that of a person into a werewolf as the trials and tribulations of adolescence are conveyed in stunning synchronicity with that of the confusion of becoming a literal bloodthirsty monster.
The genius of the film is due largely to the screenwriting efforts of Karen Walton in that, after having established a meaningful thesis, she continues to explore the complexities of the issues that have been introduced. Ginger engages in vehicular intercourse as she sadistically dominates Ben (Christopher Redman). When she returns home, we assume–due to the violent foreplay we witnessed and the fact that she is covered in blood–that she killed Ben (yet Walton is already toying with her viewer because Ginger was a virgin). The screenwriter turns the thumbscrews further by having Ginger tell Brigitte, “I get this ache . . . and I, I thought it was for sex, but it’s to tear everything to fucking pieces.” Shortly thereafter, we discover that Norman, the neighbor’s dog, has been murdered. Thus, aside from reinforcing his theme of pubescent obfuscation, Walton unites the notions of sex and death together in a stylistic, uncontrived manner. Shortly thereafter, Ben quickly begins his lycanthropic transformation because, after failing to use a condom, he becomes infected by Ginger. Ingeniously, Walton wisely utilizes her premise as a byway for presenting relative adolescent concerns: the threat of sexually transmitted disease.
Yet, like any good horror writer, Walton maintains focus in that she never becomes preoccupied with the violence or limits her work to merely being confined to being a stereotypical work of horror. We watch as the sisters’ nihilistic, suicidal tendencies instantaneously evaporate as both attempt to survive the werewolf’s attack, thus highlighting the impetus for the girls’ infatuation with the macabre: hopes of gaining attention, not unlike the peers whom the sisters readily condemn for said reason. If nothing else, Walton’s writing deserves accolades based solely upon the multiplicity of the film’s title: “Ginger Snaps” can refer to the teen’s preoccupation with photography; the title character mentally “snapping,” unable to cope with the pressures of adolescence; Ginger’s sardonic quips to her peers, sister, and family; or literal biting, which Ginger does readily throughout. Lastly, I thank Walton for presenting a horror script which centers around female characters who do not lapse into clichéd genre scream queens. Instead, she draws a character who is forced to survive in lieu of what she has been told she is: a weak-willed, late-blooming outcast devoid of any redeemable value.
The film is by no means a staunch, stagnant examination into the above-mentioned themes. A strong current of critical black humor reigns over the entire production. The premise itself, that a woman experiencing premenstrual syndrome is equitable to a raging, bloodthirsty monster, is a sardonic presentation of an often chided subject. However, there are many more comical, satirical nuances in Ginger Snaps. The film opens with a picture of Ginger impaled by a white picket fence. Next, when Ginger first notices her body changing after she begins menstruating, the viewer is issued a full-frame shot of the claw marks left by the werewolf’s attack. Vaginal in nature, the wounds have recently begun to sprout faint, thin hairs around their edges. This, atop the fact that adolescent hormones (combined with lycanthropic infection) are changing Ginger at a rapid rate, Ginger begins to grown a tail, that is, not the type that most women desire in order to garner males’ attention. Another instance of succinctly placed wry comedy occurs when the Fitzgerald family sits down at the dinner table and Ginger rubs her aching back (which isn’t, as her Pamela assumes, due to cramps). Pamela smiles, proud that her little girl is now a woman. She then appears with a very red strawberry shortcake to celebrate Ginger’s biological graduation which, later in the film when Ginger is away, Brigitte is permitted a mere slice from because Pamela still considers the latter a girl. Lastly, Brigitte, attempting to find a cure of her sister, seeks out the local drug dealer, Sam (Kris Lemche, eXistenZ) due to his knowledge of chemistry and horticulture.
Another, nonetheless potent, aspect of the production is Perkins’s portrayal of Brigitte. The crux of the film is dependent upon Brigitte’s character development as her reliance upon Ginger is severed, forcing Brigitte to become a woman (sans ovulation) who is able to survive in the wake of her sister’s shifting interest from Brigitte to the opposite sex. Throughout the film, Brigitte displays a dominating inferiority complex, in part due to her dominant sister, as well as her reactions to her peers condemning her for having less-than-mainstream tastes and ideas. Thus, she channels the social pressures experienced by a young teenage woman in her inability to look others in the eye as well as maintaining a slack posture which becomes more pronounced once Ginger begins to receive the opposite sex’s attention. Subtly, once she realizes that Ginger will not be able to find a cure without her and is not able or willing to assist her in so doing, Brigitte begins to level her chin and makes, however fleeting, glances to those whom she is speaking.
What congeals the film thematically are the little details which Fawcett made sure not to neglect in order to flush out the atmosphere and characters. As the Ginger and Brigitte converse, a laptop rests on the latter’s lap. On the back of the computer monitor is a sticker of a silhouetted hand issuing anyone and everyone the bird, thus symbolically presenting the sophomoric attitudes of the girls. Even the soundtrack, including selections from such bands as Fear Factory, GlassJaw, Machine Head, Godhead, Killswitch Engage, Hatebreed, Razed in Black, is phenomenal in maintaining the mood and pacing of the various scenes.
Focusing upon the bond between two sisters, John Fawcett and Karen Walton create a fascinating examination of the trials, pressures, and complexities of being a teenage woman using the metaphor of the werewolf as their medium. Masterfully, the film thwarts genre clichés in order to produce a challenging, engaging work which stands as one of the best, most memorable, horror films to date.
-Egregious Gurnow
- Interview with J.R. Bookwalter - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Andrew J. Rausch - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Rick Popko and Dan West - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Director Stevan Mena (Malevolence) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Screenwriter Jeffery Reddick (Day of the Dead 2007) - January 22, 2015
- Teleconference interview with Mick Garris (Masters of Horror) - January 22, 2015
- A Day at the Morgue with Corri English (Unrest) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Writer/Director Nacho Cerda (The Abandoned, Aftermath) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actress Thora Birch (Dark Corners, The Hole, American Beauty) - January 22, 2015
- Interview with Actor Jason Behr, Plus Skinwalkers Press Coverage - January 22, 2015