Abnormally Normal
Skip the books and learn about puberty with “Ginger Snaps.”
When I was in high school, I felt pressured to be a lot of things. To be smart but also to be beautiful. To be cunning and sarcastic, but still vulnerable enough for guys to like me. It was a confusing, weird, and upsetting time, and every woman older than me told me that life — and all its problems — would be fine.
But all I wanted was for someone to tell me that it wasn’t fine. That life was a little fucked up and maybe that was okay, because other people had experienced the same thing and turned out well-adjusted enough. My body felt like a lava lamp that I had no control over, constantly changing shape. Puberty was a bitch and I wanted to be told that my messiness made sense.
“Ginger Snaps” would’ve vindicated all those feelings. Why did no one tell me that the antidote to my gross teenage angst was carefully hidden away in an early 2000s Canadian werewolf film?
It’s perfect for angry teenage girls who don’t realize what they’re angry at: perhaps the paradoxical nature of being both infantilized and sexualized, the small box of gender-acceptable expectations they’re being crammed into, or the fact that they, like the titular Ginger, might be turning into a werewolf.
Ginger (Katharine Isabelle) and her sister, Brigitte (Emily Perkins) are high schoolers with no interest in boys. Their only interests are in each other, their morbid death photography, and their suicide pact.
Despite this, Ginger and Brigitte’s parents — in particular, their mother — support their daughters’ bizarre hobbies and behaviors. As Ginger’s werewolf urges get stronger and she pulls away from her sister, her mom only wants to know if they need someone to talk to.
In fact, she’s a constant and kind — if not entirely understanding — presence in the entire film. She even goes so far as to suggest running away with them when she finds out they committed murder.
“What about Dad?” Brigitte asks.
“He’ll blame me.” her mom replies. “They all will.”
Parents seldom even exist in horror movies. The few ones we do see (“Nightmare on Elm Street,” “Scream”) exist only to be weaponized or murdered later on. Seeing an involved parent in a genre that traditionally has only dialogue-mentioned or fridged ones makes a surprisingly emotional horror movie.
Yes, lycanthropy is used as a perfect metaphor for puberty. Teenage girls can feel like monsters when a vicious dose of hormones come on. I felt like I was going crazy. I felt powerful and powerless at the same time and like no one could possibly understand me. But here’s the thing; I never let anyone try.
This is what “Ginger Snaps” gets right, about both women and horror movies: female relationships are essential. Sometimes the only cure for the feelings of desperation and frustration inside you is to watch a teenage werewolf girl kill and eat men.
I’m not saying violence equals feminism.
What I am saying is in a market oversaturated by male serial killers, it’s powerful to see an unrepentant female monster killing for the fuck of it.
Ginger’s bloodlust is uncontrolled. She’s a child whose body and mind is changing. Most of the people she kills only mildly inconvenienced her. She eventually says that she just has an urge to “tear everything to fucking pieces” and embraces being a monster because the alternative is being unimportant.
This itself is a very female, very adolescent feeling.
It’s easy to internalize that feeling. How we deal with stress in American culture is gender-learned behavior. Men tend to make it external, taking it out on others. Women, however, absorb the negative emotions into themselves and try to be “strong.”
I’m beyond tired of a woman’s strength being measured by the amount of bullshit she can endure. That’s a mindset that takes years to undo and, unfortunately, Ginger didn’t have that amount of time. She has a mother that unconditionally loves her and a sister who wants to help her, but she rejects these resources, tries to tough-girl it out, and ultimately dies for it.
“Ginger Snaps” is a powerful, funny, and, somehow, sad movie. Even as Ginger dies, Brigitte lays by her side. She comforts her and we’re reminded that loving someone means sticking by them during the worst moments of their life. We’re reminded that the best thing to do when you’re scared and confused is to talk to someone.
Being a teenage girl is being equal parts scared, confused, and angry at all times. The hardest thing to do isn’t to keep pushing through all the bullshit you’re feeling: it’s to talk to someone. You can’t move forward if you actively avoid your present, just like you can’t have your sisterly bond if you choose to be a bloodthirsty werewolf.
Forget the books, the talks, and the sex ed classes. Sit your teenager down to watch this 20-year-old classic and call it good parenting. Maybe include an informative Q&A at the end of it.
