I get that it’s totally cliche and well-understood to point out that teen slasher movies, of the Friday the 13th and Halloween variety, seem to have a disturbing fascination with punishing young women for having sex. But there’s a side to this trend that I don’t think has been discussed quite as much, and is frankly even more disturbing to me.
While it’s annoying on a certain level that you can watch Nancy’s friend having sex in A Nightmare on Elm Street and literally just know that she’s about to die, there’s also a certain endearing quality to the way your old-school teen slasher movies tried to preach Sunday School morality even as they gleefully ripped people to pieces. It’s not forgivable or, needless to say, persuasive, but it’s amusing in much the same way that your cranky old grandfather is amusing.
But the dull predictability of sexy female deaths in B-movies up to the present day has long since worn out its welcome. And the side to this trend that I was referring to, the one that bothers me far more than it amuses me (because as to the latter, it doesn’t), is that modern B-movies seem determined to convince us that not only will psychopathic serial killers target young women who are ostensibly sluts, but that the very forces of nature themselves conspire to punish women for such crimes as necking, bathing, and not being entirely dressed. Observe:

So basically, even piranhas, crocodiles, and, uh, ghosts target women who commit the crime of not keeping their breasts under wraps at all times. I wouldn’t be inferring any kind of social commentary from this trend if it weren’t so depressingly predictable. And the fact that the women so often die while naked sure seems to suggest that the death and gore are an integral part of the porn. I think our culture gets off not only on seeing boobs, but on punishing women for letting them.
As an antidote, I recommend Teeth, a movie that punishes men for being rapists and douchebags rather than women for having bodies.
The phenomenon reminds me of an old “Bloom County” strip in which Steve Dallas is trying to negotiate movie rights to the story of a murderess he represented in court. He’s talking to an agent, and the conversation runs like:
“How many deaths?”
“One.”
“Half-naked teenage girl?”
“Middle-aged husband.”
“Try Disney… get Don Knotts, and Annette Funicello to wield the axe!”
It was funny back then.