Among many underrated “Halloween” movies, both Ginger Snaps and Jennifer’s Body remain unappreciated by the vast majority. Although, at the very least, the latter has been getting some more “with hindsight” love. Not that it’s going to turn back time and make the box office receipts reflect that. Even so, its contribution to the cultural lexicon not just in general, but to misandrist readings specifically, were paved in part by the even more overlooked Ginger Snaps. Perhaps more overlooked in the United States due to being decidedly “Canadian fare” (complete with the insertion of the French language [for example, “Disparu” on the Missing posters that start to appear]), the movie’s focus on two sisters, Brigitte Fitzgerald (Emily Perkins) and Ginger Fitzgerald (Katharine Isabelle), emulates the “sisterly” dynamic we see between Anita “Needy” Lesnicki (Amanda Seyfried) and Jennifer Check (Megan Fox). As well as, naturally, the underlying competitive streak that so often exists between two girls, particularly “besties” or sisters.
Ginger Snaps, while not directed by Karen Walton, bears her indelible mark (no pun intended) thanks to the screenplay. The director, John Fawcett, who also co-wrote, lends his “feminine sensibilities” that seem to be just as on par with those of Jennifer’s Body director Karyn Kusama. Then, of course, there is Diablo Cody’s signature style at hand in the dialogue of JB. Granted, it would seem a fair assumption that someone like Cody had borne witness to the unprecedented cinema magic of Ginger Snaps when it first came out in 2001 (or 2000, for some), six years before her debut, Juno. A film whose “sleeper” success seemed to give the studio the confidence to entrust her with something so “unmarketable” as Jennifer’s Body. Which is perhaps why they tried to market it as being for the “teen boy set” via Fox’s reputation as the “hot girl from Transformers” and the lesbian kissing scene promised between Fox and Seyfried. Naturally, trying to appeal to this market was the antithesis of what Cody’s message was all about. After all, most females would prefer to see the destruction wrought by a boy-eating teenage girl taking out her aggressions and nonchalantly explaining, “They’re just boys. Morsels.”
This is something she states even before she transforms into a succubus. But after being possessed by a demon during a ritual sacrifice gone wrong (the band, Low Shoulder, foolishly believed her when she told them she was a virgin. Turned out, only “like a” virgin), Jennifer changes dramatically. In other words, demonic transference. Or, if you prefer, becoming a more complete version of herself.
At each moment of transformation in the respective films at hand, the great divide between the two closely-bonded girls solidifies because one is more prone to embracing her sexuality than the other, providing for the usual “yin and yang” archetype of being “the Madonna or the whore.” As Bianca Nielsen puts it in her essay, Ginger Snaps “centers its story on a kind of feminist solidarity experienced by two teenaged girls and, contrastingly, the rivalry that exists in sisterly bonds. As [the narrative] progresses, the close relationship between the sisters… is increasingly characterized by conflict and jealousy.” The same goes for Needy and Jennifer. Jennifer, like Ginger, does her best to get her “acolyte” to see what her body is capable of when she says, “We have all the power, don’t you know?” as she grabs Needy’s tits and further instructs, “These—these things are like smart bombs. You point them in the right direction and shit gets real.” But, like Brigitte, Needy is in far less of a rush to hyper-sexualize herself, attributable, in men’s eyes, to the lack of self-esteem that comes with not being “attractive enough” to act the part of the ho.
But Ging and Jen are both comfortable with so doing once they’re each bolstered by a nefarious essence. Similar to the sensation Jennifer experiences after her possession, Ginger describes to her sister of what she feels post-werewolf bite, “I get this ache and I thought it was for sex, but it’s to tear everything to fucking pieces” and “I’m a goddamn force of nature. I feel like I could do just about anything.”
Jennifer, too, makes similar declarations, including the iconic moment when she lights her tongue on fire and notes, “I am a god” (perhaps unwitting inspiration for the Halsey lyric, “I am not a woman, I’m a god”). Then there’s her explanation to Needy about the night she was “sacrificed,” informing her, “Ever since then, I just knew what I had to do to be strong. And when I’m full, like I am right now, I’m, like, unkillable… It’s, like, some X-Men shit.” That high from feeling powerful is undoubtedly particularly potent for a woman, so accustomed to being written off as “weak” and “dainty.” All those assumptions are laid to rest when a girl has superhuman carnality on her side, which is possibly why she’s more prone to go apeshit with all that viscerality coursing through her veins… of the variety that men are already so accustomed to thanks to testosterone, and, oh yeah, being told by patriarchal society that they can do whatever they want since time immemorial.
The puberty element in each film (even a review at the time declared of Jennifer’s Body, “The movie opens with this statement: ‘Hell is a teenage girl,’ meant to reflect the horrors of puberty”) is key to tapping into the idea that women’s emotions are already so “haywire” as it is that incorporating “raging hormones” into the mix is rife for the horror-comedy genre (I put the whore in whoremones, I put the whore in whoreror—something to that effect). The fact that the werewolf in Ginger Snaps is “summoned” to attack Ginger precisely because it detects the scent of her inaugural period blood (cue a bleeding-from-her-stomach Jennifer saying to Needy, “You got a tampon? Thought I’d ask. You seem like you might be pluggin'”) sets the tone for a narrative that aims to make women’s “emotions” (read: “rage”) “acceptable” through supernatural circumstances. And even then, it’s still not, with all manner of authority figures and moralizers (like Brigitte and Needy) trying to subjugate that raw anger that’s constantly being bottled in for the sake of “feminine ideals.” Of course, no one feels obliged to point out that men act like wolves and incubi on a regular basis without needing the “excuse” of a paranormal phenomenon.
At one point, Needy berates Jennifer, “You’re killing people.” She specifies, “No, I’m killing boys.” Yes, there is a distinction. Because what have boys ever done for humanity other than tear it apart and destroy it like their plaything? Girls, on the other hand, are expected to sit back and watch—be silent and “cooperative.”
This is exactly why Ginger tells Brigitte when they’re burying a body in their shed, “Hey, look. No one ever thinks chicks do shit like this. Trust me, a girl can only be a slut, bitch, tease or the virgin next door. We’ll just coast on how the world works.” Because women have to take what they can get, when they can get it. Or so they’re expected to.
As for the negative response to Jennifer’s Body when it first arrived on screens in 2009, Cody fittingly stated at the time, “If I had gone to this movie as a teenage girl, I would’ve come out of it feeling totally inspired. I would’ve wanted to write, I would’ve wanted to create and I would’ve felt like I watched something that was speaking to me.” Obviously, that’s the last thing the male suits in charge want to have happen when a woman sees a movie. Which is why both Ginger Snaps and Jennifer’s Body remain such “rare birds.” Worse still, however, is the notion that each movie is obliged to “explain” in their own way “why” a girl is how she is. As though she needs to have an occultic reason to be as “bad” as she wants to be. Behave toward men as they have always behaved toward everyone else, especially women.
