In Praise Of Screaming Women

I used to call myself a horror-movie buff in the 1990s, so I’ve heard all the grievances about “scream queens” and “final girls”. And, you know, those complaints worked; now every female protagonist in movies is an unstoppable “badass”. I saw the recent space drama Gravity, and I was mystified why so many people disliked it. Then I looked into the details; modern audiences rejected a Sandra Bullock who freaks out and cries when things go sour. Never mind that it’s part of a character arc; females must always be steely and in control.

Well, like so many aspects of modern film, that’s boring. Another victim of political correctness in movies is the Girl Who Can Scream. The scolds among us will suggest that men get a perverse satisfaction out of seeing women in jeopardy, but that’s only the perverts. For the rest of us, it’s a human fire alarm, when it’s done right. It signals that things are really, really bad. They even used to put it in the trailers.

I’m not saying that the shrieking of film ladies is a lost art, but once you see what I’m talking about here, I think you’ll agree it’s going in that dodolike direction. And I’m fully aware of the bad examples that get it all wrong, for example the matron getting her eyes pecked out by crows before being hit by a truck in Omen II. That lady screams and screams to the point where I had to mute it before the neighbors called the cops. I also haven’t seen Eli Roth’s cannibal holocaust Green Inferno, which I imagine features copious screaming from both sexes, and me puking in a bucket. So it is a fine line.

Let me start out with a great example from the home-video sector. Privately I have enjoyed the adventures of the Green family of pranksters for years, largely for their Angry Grandpa’s ability to scream. But as you’ll see, it definitely runs in the family. Listen to the scream Angry Grandpa’s daughter lets out at 1:06 in the video below.

Any of those screams would be worth money in a horror production, but 1:06 is the best one. Like a human alarm: everyone who hears it goes on alert. Jamie Lee Curtis didn’t do as good a job in actual Halloween movies.

This is why directors like Argento have made movies like Suspiria, where most of the terror comes from an actress being terrorized. When a person makes the right sound, the audience connects on a primal level.

Here’s one of the first examples I ever noticed. In two words this girl raised every single hair on the neck of all who heard it.

Take a moment to recoup. I know I need to. And yes, they put that in the trailer, and hit you with it cold, just like I did.

This poor girl was later murdered by her jealous asshole boyfriend. If not, I bet cash money that she’d have a cushy life signing pictures at conventions, based on that scream alone.

This next example is a contentious one; this shiksa Kate Capshaw, this blondie-blond, she shrieks for roughly two-thirds of Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom. It’s also a tough sell on churchy folk, because she says OH MY GOD more times than a porn star. But she really earns her paycheck when she runs across a suspension bridge in a dirty dress, hits her mark, and belts out this absolute beauty at 01:43:00:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I’ve seen Temple of Doom about a zillion times, screaming Kate and all. I get why Spielberg put a ring on it. (For Capshaw’s detractors, she first screams at around eight minutes in, and continues until the credits roll. Adjust your DVR accordingly.)

The final entry on this list is also contentious, but only among friends of mine named Philip. Viewers these days know Patricia Arquette from Medium, or the film True Romance, or her sister Rosanna. But Patricia got her start in about the most awesome way conceivable; facing off against slasher Freddy Krueger in the third and greatest Elm Street, Dream Warriors.

For the first half of the movie, Patricia is kind of a weepy little mope. But when her new friend at the hospital falls under Freddy’s control, she knows he isn’t sleepwalking. She has to awaken him the only way she can over distance: turning his name into a blood-curdling shriek.

If you look closely, even the other kids are surprised at what comes out of Arquette’s mouth. I can’t believe she didn’t knock Philip off the ledge herself.

By the way, the above death scene is one of the most revered in the history of horror movies, and with good reason. A terrific concept, beautifully executed (even better if you mix in Angelo Badalamenti’s original score), made perfect with that scream, like an instrument in a great orchestra, or spice in a gourmet meal.

I tried not to make this article sound perverse. Really I did.

(If you’re one of those pedantics who needs equality in everything, the best man-screaming I’ve ever heard emanated from Harvey Keitel in Bad Lieutenant.)