The horror genre has evolved significantly over the years, pushing its boundaries and delving deep into societal and cultural anxieties. Jordan Peele’s groundbreaking work in films like “Get Out” played a pivotal role in ushering in a new era of socially conscious horror. While he may not stand alone as the sole pioneer, his influence has inspired other artists to explore themes unique to the African-American experience and infuse their narratives with strong moral messages. Within this emerging wave of socially conscious horror, three notable voices have emerged: Justin Simien, the creator of “Bad Hair,” and the co-creators of “The Other Black Girl,” Zakiay Dalila Harris and Rashida Jones.
“The Other Black Girl” and “Bad Hair” are two imaginative works. Both explore the complex experiences of Black women in contemporary society. They are essentially parallel narratives that shed light on the intersection of race, identity, beauty standards, and corporate culture, using horror elements to highlight the unsettling realities faced by Black women. Let’s see how.
“The Other Black Girl” explores the challenges faced by Nella Rogers, an ambitious editorial assistant, when a new colleague who looks like her arrives. Many can relate to her initial isolation as the only Black employee, as it often involves navigating a space where they are in the minority and dealing with the pressure to conform to certain expectations. Instead of being a source of support and camaraderie, “The Other Black Girl” threatens Nella’s sense of self and ambition. This dynamic highlights the complexities and competition that can arise when only a few Black employees are in a workplace.
A hair pomade is used as a weapon of assimilation in the story. While it is on its surface a tool of terror, ultimately, it symbolizes how corporate culture can erode the individuality and identity of Black women. Hair is deeply tied to cultural and personal identity, and the pressure for Black women to conform to Eurocentric beauty standards in professional settings can be a form of erasure. It also emphasizes the role of systemic racism and micro-aggressions in shaping these dynamics.
The fact that another Black woman becomes the enforcer of assimilation is a powerful commentary on the effects of unsavory corporate politics and the idea that oppressed individuals can become oppressors. Hazel becomes the enforcer of assimilation, a potent allegory of how societal restraints lead marginalized individuals such as herself to adopt such behaviors to survive. However, sadly, it often comes at a cost to one’s values and principles and leads to moral bankruptcy.
Additionally, it pushes forward the uncomfortable truth that exists in corporate America. Those who do not fit the beauty standards are slowly pushed out by any means necessary. And if ploys or cryptic tactics to subjugate the Black Professional Woman’s identity fail, professional assassination becomes the inevitable go-to. And as Nella demonstrates at the film’s end, the system is not easily dismantled from the outside. Sometimes, it requires infiltration, a strategic maneuver that intensely focuses on deconstructing years of backward ideologies.
While “Bad Hair” leans more towards farce than outright thriller, it similarly explores the stigma surrounding Black women’s hair and its impact on their acceptance in modern society. The film follows Anna Bludso, who has struggled with her hair’s non-conforming nature for years. Her journey begins in her youth when she desperately seeks conformity to fit in. Still, this quest results in physical harm and deformity, highlighting the dangers of seeking to bow to societal beauty standards.
As Anna matures, her hair continues to hinder her aspirations, keeping her on the fringes of her dreams. Despite her competence and tenure at the broadcasting station, promotions remain elusive. Only when she conforms to specific grooming standards does her life take a dramatic turn. Cue the element of terror.
In her pursuit of conformity, Anna turns to a hairstylist promising a transformative weave. However, this weave goes beyond mere physical alteration – it exerts a malevolent control over her, turning her unwittingly into a nightmare of her own making. She becomes a slave to her beauty choice, emphasizing the film’s commentary on the pressures and risks associated with conforming to conventional beauty standards.
Parallelisms in Terror
Both narratives convey that success achieved by suppressing one’s authentic identity is ultimately hollow and unsatisfying. These stories provoke thoughts on the enduring fears of acceptance and adaptation in a society that claims to be progressing toward equality. The question as to what extent Black women are still willing to diminish their power for conformity and conditional acceptance looms large.
The strength of socially conscious horror is its use of genre elements to engage audiences with complex and uncomfortable societal issues. “The Other Black Girl” and “Bad Hair” successfully deliver their messages through their unique storytelling approaches. They serve as cautionary tales and catalysts for critically contemplating the intricate intersections of race, identity, and corporate culture in our contemporary world. These films and others in the socially conscious horror genre continue to push boundaries and contribute to vital conversations about pressing social concerns.
In Conclusion
Undoubtedly, some of the most terrifying horrors are those that infiltrate creators’ minds, infecting them with the subtle poisons of societal issues. As cultural messengers, they intricately embed their warnings within thematic narratives, amplifying their messages through cinematic storytelling. The ultimate question remains: are these messages being heard and understood by the audience? That remains unseen. For those yet to see “The Other Black Girl” or “Bad Hair,” both are currently streaming on Hulu.