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Bloodied Bodies, Bloody Landscapes: Settler Colonialism in Horror
Turning a lens on the dark legacy of colonialism in horror film, from Scream to Halloween and beyond
Horror films, more than any other genre, offer a chilling glimpse—like peering through a creaky attic door—into the brutality of settler colonial violence. While Indigenous peoples continue to struggle against colonization, white settler narratives consistently position them as a threat, depicting the Indigenous Other as an ever-present menace, lurking on the fringes of “civilized” society. Indigenous inclusion or exclusion in horror films tells a larger story about myths, fears, and anxieties that have endured for centuries.
Bloodied Bodies, Bloody Landscapes traces connections between Indigenous representations, gender, and sexuality within iconic horror classics like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Friday the 13th. The savage killer, the romantic and doomed Indian, the feral “mad woman”—no trope or archetype escapes the shadowy influence of settler colonialism. In the end, horror both disrupts and uncovers colonial violence—only to bury its victims once more.
Horror films, more than any other genre, offer a chilling glimpse—like peering through a creaky attic door—into the brutality of settler colonial violence. While Indigenous peoples continue to struggle against colonization, white settler narratives consistently position them as a threat, depicting the Indigenous Other as an ever-present menace, lurking on the fringes of “civilized” society. Indigenous inclusion or exclusion in horror films tells a larger story about myths, fears, and anxieties that have endured for centuries.
Bloodied Bodies, Bloody Landscapes traces connections between Indigenous representations, gender, and sexuality within iconic horror classics like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre and Friday the 13th. The savage killer, the romantic and doomed Indian, the feral “mad woman”—no trope or archetype escapes the shadowy influence of settler colonialism. In the end, horror both disrupts and uncovers colonial violence—only to bury its victims once more.
288 pages, Paperback
Published September 16, 2025
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Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews
August 6, 2025
a must-read for all horror fans - comprehensive, readable, and full of rabbit holes to go down if you want to learn more. completely agree with the author's main point that settler colonialism is propped up by horror storytelling, and it's important to understand how and why so we can dismantle it instead of perpetuating the same tired anti-indigenous tropes. horror can be More!
May 20, 2025
The book sets before it an impossible task and almost manages it. The author is not here to describe settler colonialism in horror; they are here to argue that settler colonialism is horror. Not in the obvious sense, but in the sense that horror - horror film - as a genre in North America is itself a manifestation of the popular feelings on the Indigenous.
Does it work? Better than I thought it would. The book considers different horror films and series, and how they work to enforce or struggle through the 'civ/sav' binary, with a particular emphasis on the 'Final Girl' trope and its relation to power and violence in the fears of the majority.
The interpretations are often contradictory. Horror writ large is a genre about the monster and the mixture of fear and desire that exists towards it, including using genre as a means to get subversive or heterodox material into cultural production. Here, the same work can be looked at as demanding the awfulness of North American history as it can be to dismissing it.
The book particularly shines in providing a good critical overview of its subjects, building its own analysis on top of it. However, this leads to the book's major weakness. Not all movies are as good a fit, and at points the book turns Procrustean in treating the Indigenous as the only true Other, of which all other others are a subset. Thus, some of the chapters in the middle in particular get tenuous.
I love a polemic, but to break out this tone patrol badge, late in the book the language walks past aggrieved and into derisive (particularly including goes at sarcasm, which is never a good sell in writing). It is unfortunate because author clearly wants to save the best for last, and the works that they have the most strong feelings about, good and bad. It is fun personality that adds to the weight of the work through most of the book, but there it starts to backfire in it making the argument read weaker in being more defensive.
Still, the utility here is intense, both in its overview of different genre interpretations and in its critical framework.
My thanks to the author, Laura Hall, for writing the book, and to the publisher, University of Regina Press, for making the ARC available to me.
Does it work? Better than I thought it would. The book considers different horror films and series, and how they work to enforce or struggle through the 'civ/sav' binary, with a particular emphasis on the 'Final Girl' trope and its relation to power and violence in the fears of the majority.
The interpretations are often contradictory. Horror writ large is a genre about the monster and the mixture of fear and desire that exists towards it, including using genre as a means to get subversive or heterodox material into cultural production. Here, the same work can be looked at as demanding the awfulness of North American history as it can be to dismissing it.
The book particularly shines in providing a good critical overview of its subjects, building its own analysis on top of it. However, this leads to the book's major weakness. Not all movies are as good a fit, and at points the book turns Procrustean in treating the Indigenous as the only true Other, of which all other others are a subset. Thus, some of the chapters in the middle in particular get tenuous.
I love a polemic, but to break out this tone patrol badge, late in the book the language walks past aggrieved and into derisive (particularly including goes at sarcasm, which is never a good sell in writing). It is unfortunate because author clearly wants to save the best for last, and the works that they have the most strong feelings about, good and bad. It is fun personality that adds to the weight of the work through most of the book, but there it starts to backfire in it making the argument read weaker in being more defensive.
Still, the utility here is intense, both in its overview of different genre interpretations and in its critical framework.
My thanks to the author, Laura Hall, for writing the book, and to the publisher, University of Regina Press, for making the ARC available to me.
November 6, 2025
I am the wrong person to review this work. Too many times, I found myself thinking that the concept of scary other=indigenes a bit of a stretch. I am a woman of European descent, so perhaps I'm missing the point.
August 30, 2025
Bloodied Bodies, Bloody Landscapes by Laura Hall presents a way to read horror films through a settler colonialism lens. Largely successful with some excellent analysis but hindered by a bit of a hyperbolic voice.
Because films are made within a social, cultural, and political environment they reflect many of the shortsighted ways of understanding the world. Films reflect the sexism, ableism, racism, and so many other aspects of society. So, of course, settler colonialism is included. It doesn't mean every horror film was made to support it, or even to speak on it, it is simply a product made during a period of time reflecting that time (and place).
Many people don't think to view movies through this lens which is why a book like this is important, it can help viewers tune in to different ways of understanding their entertainment. Hall does an excellent job of breaking down how these movies not only reflect settler colonialism but can be seen to support and reinforce it. Like many such works, there will be a few places where you might think it went too far, maybe sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
This is where the hyperbole sometimes comes in. Though largely careful not to state explicitly that every movie was made to support settler colonialism, the language comes a close as possible, kinda like some of Trump's attempts at plausible deniability when inciting a riot. Settler colonialism is a valid and important lens through which to understand not just horror films but many films. But it isn't THE way to read them because there is not the level of intentionality Hall often implies.
Recommended for those who want another way to understand how culture, especially pop culture, can both reflect and influence society. Horror fans, even if not particularly interested in the settler colonialism approach will find a lot to think about from Hall's analyses of these films.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via Edelweiss.
Because films are made within a social, cultural, and political environment they reflect many of the shortsighted ways of understanding the world. Films reflect the sexism, ableism, racism, and so many other aspects of society. So, of course, settler colonialism is included. It doesn't mean every horror film was made to support it, or even to speak on it, it is simply a product made during a period of time reflecting that time (and place).
Many people don't think to view movies through this lens which is why a book like this is important, it can help viewers tune in to different ways of understanding their entertainment. Hall does an excellent job of breaking down how these movies not only reflect settler colonialism but can be seen to support and reinforce it. Like many such works, there will be a few places where you might think it went too far, maybe sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
This is where the hyperbole sometimes comes in. Though largely careful not to state explicitly that every movie was made to support settler colonialism, the language comes a close as possible, kinda like some of Trump's attempts at plausible deniability when inciting a riot. Settler colonialism is a valid and important lens through which to understand not just horror films but many films. But it isn't THE way to read them because there is not the level of intentionality Hall often implies.
Recommended for those who want another way to understand how culture, especially pop culture, can both reflect and influence society. Horror fans, even if not particularly interested in the settler colonialism approach will find a lot to think about from Hall's analyses of these films.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via Edelweiss.
Displaying 1 - 4 of 4 reviews