Throughout history, women have been ‘constructed as subordinate objects by cultural representations’ (Ryan and Kellner, 1988, 137). This essay will examine whether feminist concerns are sufficiently addressed within Hollywood films of the 1970s. Criticism of female representation within the film industry emerged following the advent of second-wave feminism - a revival movement which worked to deal with issues including reproductive rights, sexuality, employment discrimination, health, domestic violence, and economic independence. ‘Mentions of the women’s movement in the national press increased 10 times in the 10 months from May 1969 to March 1970’ (Baxandall and Gordon, 2004, 417), suggesting the emergence of second-wave feminism coincides with the Hollywood renaissance of the 1970s. Carrie (De Palma, 1976) and Looking for Mr Goodbar (Brooks, 1977) are two key texts from the period from which similarities can be drawn; both are directed by men and adapted from novels, conforming to William Paul’s statement on Hollywood as ‘on the lookout for the “presold” project, the films that come with a formula for guaranteed success’ (1977). By examining these films, this essay will explore how successfully, or otherwise, Hollywood films dealt with feminist issues.

Carrie is a 1976 horror film directed by renowned auteur, Brian De Palma, based on Stephen King’s debut novel of the same name. It follows 16-year-old Carrie White (Sissy Spacek), who develops telekinetic powers shortly after her first period. Carrie’s genre is vital to the film’s addressing of feminist issues, as ‘horror is one of the only genres where women get to be the star, and have rich emotional lives’ (Berlatsky, 2016). This is true for De Palma’s film, in which virtually all the main characters are women. Key interpretations cite Carrie as an unleashing of female teenage fury and coming-of-age film that captures ‘the true horror of being a teenager’ (Wiseman, 2018). Use of the word ‘unleashing’ suggests Carrie has undergone ‘repression’, a process coined by Sigmund Freud that suggests ‘early traumas, (...) bad feelings and memories’ are shoved aside (Dumas, 2014, 28). In Carrie, these bad feelings, and memories, stem from her mother, Margaret White - a woman in possession of strict religious beliefs, which form the foundation of all repression in the film, particularly those of social and sexual form. Supporting this is a study by Mary Malone, which suggested Christianity has been a primary source in shaping women’s acceptance of abuse (Malone, 1990). Carrie subsequently develops resentment towards her school peers as they relentlessly bully her for her naivety, the culmination of which happens at the school prom. This scene represents the concept of returning ‘Monsters from the Id’ (Tarratt, 2012) - the id referring to an unconscious entity within the self, containing ‘all the desires, all the rage, all the frustration and the need’ (Dumas, 2014, 28). The dramatisation of Carrie’s rage is largely presented through the editing, showcasing De Palma’s excessive and non-naturalistic style. Slow motion and long takes provide the illusion of elongated time, building suspense as the viewer anticipates the inevitable. The orchestral score stops and the film cuts to silence as Carrie is doused in pig’s blood (see Figure 1); only the diegetic sound of the blood splattering is audible until the music back into an uncomfortable ambient drone. As Carrie unleashes her pent-up anger, split screen and kaleidoscope are employed to present intense subjectivity and align the viewer with Carrie’s need for revenge (see Figure 2). Through the filmmaking, Carrie is provided with the opportunity to unleash revenge on all those she resents, an empowering experience as female rage is an anger that women are commonly expected to suppress - subverting the patriarchal idea of being ‘a “good” woman’ (Chemaly, 2018). Carrie is thereby a progressive representation of feminist issues, challenging the expectation of women to ‘manage our anger so much as fear, ignore, hide, and transform it’ (Chemaly, 2018). This is especially prominent considering female rage as a popular theme within contemporary entertainment. For example, Oscar-nominated film Gone Girl (Fincher, 2014) serves as a study and ‘exaggerated embodiment’ of female anger, as protagonist Amy Dunne’s ‘bottled-up disappointment in her husband’ becomes ‘murderous resentment’ (The Take, 2020), much like Carrie’s attitude towards her peers.

In comparison to Carrie, Looking for Mr Goodbar (Brooks, 1977) is a crime film released by Paramount Pictures, following a young teacher in New York. Richard Brooks’ film is based on Julie Rossner’s novel of the same name, released in 1975, and features Theresa Dunn as the three-dimensional female protagonist; by day she is a teacher helping deaf and mute children, by night she attends bars alone to seek out men to sleep with. The film conforms to the growing hybridity of genre at the time, as it is part sociosexual thriller and part character study. This reflects the growing cynicism in the American population and romantic scepticism - a result of ‘the economic disaster of 1970’ (Paul, 1977). Theresa Dunn is a contemporary sexually liberated woman and hedonistic femme fatale, highlighting ‘possibilities for independence’ available in Brooks’ film that were not accessible for ‘earlier Hollywood heroines’ (Kaplan, 1983, 76). Theresa is presented as resilient and fearless; suffering from polio as a child, her limbs were temporarily paralysed (Rossner, 1975, 23) and the muscles in her back weakened to cause scoliosis (Rossner, 1975, 28). Theresa chooses not to have children due to fear of passing on her congenital condition, presenting the protagonist as subverting societal expectations of women, but also reflecting a key issue of second-wave feminism: reproductive rights. For example, the women’s movement was successful in implementing guidelines requiring consent and prohibited sterilisation of women aged under 21 in 1974 (Baxandall and Gordon, 2004, 420). Looking for Mr Goodbar further deals with such issues in a scene during which Theresa finds out her sister, Katherine, travelled to Puerto Rico to have an abortion. Rossner writes that Theresa ‘had never even heard the word said out loud’ (1975, 37) signifying the taboo nature of the topic, even though abortion had been legalised in New York in 1970 and decriminalised nationally following the Roe vs. Wade court case in 1973 - providing the fundamental right to an abortion for all women. Not only is Looking for Goodbar progressive in its inclusion of a female protagonist with freedom of sexuality - uncommon feat for Hollywood films at the time - but also in its dealing of reproductive issues. Both are key areas of second-wave feminism.

As previously demonstrated, it is practically impossible to discuss the extent to which Carrie deals with feminist concerns without citing psychoanalysis, a method commonly used by feminists in their theoretical analysis (Kaplan, 1983, 1); it enables women to ‘unlock patriarchal culture as expressed in dominant representations’ (Kaplan, 1983, 3). One such feminist is Barbara Creed, who states that the ‘one incontestably monstrous role in the horror film belongs to a woman - that of the witch’ (1993, 165). The inciting incident of the film takes place in a high school changing room as Carrie experiences her first period whilst showering. The abnormality of the incident is found within the amount of blood and anchored using red lighting in the film, which links to the broader thematic meaning. On the surface, Carrie is a teenager going through puberty. Historically, however, menstruation is ‘linked to the witch’s curse’ as girls who experienced prophetic dreams at the time of their menarche - the first menstrual cycle - ‘were singled out as a (...) witch’ (Creed, 1993, 167). Through presenting Carrie in this manner, the film relates menarche with the possession of supernatural powers, conforming to the idea that ‘Horror (...) deals openly with questions of gender, sexuality and the body’ (Berlatsky, 2016). This allows the film to frame menstruation as an element of both ‘human nature and feminine power’, according to Anne Biller (Bertlatsky, 2016). Aiding this is De Palma’s filmmaking, as the sequence begins in a sensual manner; the softcore sex fantasy and soothing score is suddenly undercut with bloody images to shock the viewer and dismantle taboo surrounding menstruation; reflecting the emergence of menstrual consciousness within second-wave feminism, beginning in the 1970s. Like De Palma, the women’s health movement aimed to deconstruct ‘the social construction of menstruation as a shameful process’ (Bobel, 2007) and became a ‘recognisable force of social change’ (Zimmerman, 1987, 443).

Further to this, Carrie’s role as monstrous-feminine allows for the inclusion of abject material within the film. Abjection is the ‘process by which a person can come to identify with blood, excrement and other forms of waste and filth’ (Dumas, 2014, 32), a ‘loss of distinction between (...) self and other’ (Kristeva, 1982). Through presenting Carrie as a witch experiencing menarche, De Palma enables the female protagonist to transcend societal norms and boundaries placed upon her by the patriarchy, analogised in her religious mother, classmates, and teachers. Carrie’s supernatural powers and dealing with the abject provide her with a feminine agency that is rare in Hollywood films. In tandem with this is Vladimir Propp’s theory of dramatis personae, which propounds that ‘similar stories with, identifiable plots, characters and situation’ (Dogra, 2017) are evident in many films. Propp’s seven distinguishable character types or ‘spheres of action’ include the princess, who is a ‘sought-for person’ (Propp, 1968) and one to be ‘protected by the Hero’ (Fiske, 1987, 137); a role typically fulfilled by women. Brian de Palma disestablishes this through the creation of a new space for women in film, allowing Carrie to attain the role of an antihero who possess ‘moral complexity’ (Shafer and Raney, 2012). As a result, Carrie White opposes archetypal expectations of women as subordinate objects by cultural representations’ (Ryan and Kellner, 1988, 137). Thereby, De Palma’s film is successful in addressing feminist issues, particularly that of menstrual consciousness.

Whilst Carrie uses psychoanalytical ideas to deal with feminist issues in an empowering and liberating manner, Looking for Mr Goodbar has been interpreted as an ‘ultra-right wing, reactionary movie’ (Wood, 1986, 55); the film constructs an ideology that seeks to explain Theresa’s behaviour through psychoanalysis. Kaplan argues, ‘Despite the temptation to read Mr Goodbar as about a ‘liberated’ woman (...), it has an underlying, traditionally psychoanalytic discourse that in fact “explains” all Teresa’s actions as really motivated by the need for love and approval from her father’ (Kaplan, 1983, 6). There is a suggestion here of an Oedipal crisis, accounting for Theresa’s sexual promiscuity and heavy drug consumption. Brooks added a sitcom-style scene that portrays a nuclear family and was not featured in Rossner’s novel, linking Theresa’s behaviour to her upbringing. Brooks also added scenes of sexual violence, conforming to Joan Mellen’s statement that there is a ‘high incidence of acts of actual violence, including rape, against women in Hollywood films’ (Ryan and Kellner, 1988, 139). This was especially true for the cycle of films released in the early seventies displaying brutality towards women (Kaplan, 1983, 75). Whilst violent scenes are included within the novel, Judith Rossner begins the story by introducing Theresa’s murderer - Gary Cooper White. White is presented as a narcissist who exploits people and lacks ‘any sense of having done something wrong or avoidable’ (Rossner, 1975, 6). In structuring the narrative in this non-linear fashion, Rossner frames White as a heartless villain with no motive and, in turn, Theresa as the victim of a deeply sexist hate crime. However, in Brooks’ film adaptation, Theresa is presented as the orchestrator of her own death; opting for a portrayal of sexual liberation with consequences, as Theresa is ultimately punished for refusing patriarchal domination and not submitting to her “rightful” role as a woman’ (Kaplan, 1983, 79), instead choosing to have frequent, casual sex. As a result, whilst Theresa appears to embody a role more autonomous than second-wave feminism predecessors, Brooks only allows a portrayal of sexual liberation with consequences as Looking for Mr Goodbar also ‘represents elements of the anti-feminist backlash agenda’ (Stover, 2013, 1) evident within the excessive on-screen sexual violence and the psychoanalytical methods encoded within the film to seek cause for not only Theresa’s promiscuous behaviour, but also male mistreatment of her.

The role of Theresa in orchestrating her death is at the centre of debates surrounding Brook’s adaptation of Looking for Mr Goodbar (1977) and a vital argument foregrounding Robin Wood’s understanding of the incoherent text. Wood proposes that Goodbar exhibits ‘a high degree of involvement on the part of’ its director (1986, 47), suggesting Brooks chose to encode polysemy into the film. Supporting this is the construction of the final sequence, in which Gary Cooper White rapes and murders Theresa. The scene employs a candle to create low-key lighting, which White throws at Theresa as he becomes enraged; the image is plunged into darkness as flashing blue light foreshadows the ensuing danger and allows the viewer to catch only glimpses of the violence (see Figure 3). The combination of such lighting with diegetic noise, taking the form of screams, grunts, and heavy breathing, demonstrates a level of obscurity that proposes a masochistic tendency on the part of the main character. Due to this, the mise-en-scene conforms to Kaplan’s argument that Theresa’s rape and death ‘are punishment for refusing to submit to the codes that define her place and limit her possibilities to what patriarchy demands’ (Kaplan, 1983, 6). Although, there is suggestion from Wood that this was a deliberate creative choice to instead render the text ‘unreadable’ (1986, 58), undermining the suggestion of a regressive approach to dealing with feminist concerns. Whilst both interpretations are evidenced as valid, it is important to consider what Brooks aimed to achieve through incorporating a scene of such violence. Firstly, every man Theresa meets is constructed to be a threat, with varying embodiments of women’s oppression. Her father, Tony, Gary and even James; although presented as a lawyer in the novel, Brooks ‘makes him just as neurotic and potentially dangerous as everyone else’ (Wood, 1986, 56). Dunn ultimately falls victim to these patriarchal ideals; reflective of the systematic repression faced by women from male- dominated institutions in the 1970s. The denouement of the film is a culmination of this, helping to ‘establish rape as a serious trauma in the public mind’ (Hess, 2017). This must be considered in relation to the origins of Rossner’s novel, which began ‘as a reported piece for Esquire on the 1973 death of Roseann Quinn’ (Doyle, 2012). Goodbar is therefore, based on a true story, from which it draws many parallels; Roseann Quinn, a 28-year-old teacher in New York and suffering from a polio-related limp, was murdered following an encounter in a basement bar (Nazaryan, 2015). Susan Brownmiller comments on the heavy media coverage that followed the rape-murder, ‘often the only news of women that can be found in the (...) paper’ (1973). In featuring such a narrative, Brooks submits to moral panic surrounding the frequent murders of single white women in New York City; foregrounding the feminist concern of male sexual violence against women, ‘rooted in women’s unequal status in society’ (Chat, 2021).

In line with this, limitations to Carrie’s feminist voice emerge due to issues grounded within the film’s cinematography. By the mid-1970s, filmmakers were exploring further sexualised images of women, evidenced within the ‘sexually charged shower scene’ (Duong, 2018) opening the film. Close-ups are an important element in the visual style of the film, allowing each character to be studied whilst anticipating their actions. An example of this is an extreme close-up of Chris during the prom sequence. Preceding the pig’s blood being poured over Carrie, she licks her lips, implying a sadistic demeanour and suggesting she derives a form of sexual pleasure from humiliating Carrie (see Figure 4). Such filmmaking conforms to Laura Mulvey’s theory of the male gaze: ‘camera framing portrays women as relational rather than independent; and the use of beautiful actresses and frequent intimate close-ups tends to reinforce a sense of women as objects of male desire’ (Ryan and Kellner, 1988, 139). Mulvey’s ideas are particularly evident within the opening sequence, which contains a montage of extreme close-ups of Carrie sensually massaging and caressing her body. From the onset of the film, the audience is invited to participate in scopophilia, ‘an active perversion’ (Kaplan, 1983, 14) that sexualises the female body and invites spectators to fulfil the role of the voyeur, identify with the male gaze and objectify Sissy Spacek as Carrie. It is important to note that ‘the camera is the means through which the feminine in representation is relegated to a male construct’ (Kaplan, 1983, 73), implying Brian de Palma is making a deliberate, directorial choice in objectifying the female characters via the cinematography. As a result, the film employs a regressive stance in addressing feminist concerns, as Carrie is heavily sexualised and reduced to an object of the male gaze - limiting the agency attained in her role as the protagonist.

This highlights an issue regarding not only Brian De Palma’s female-centred suspense and horror films, but also in other rape and revenge films - a genre popularised in the 1970s which considers ‘female portrayals of violence as a central part of its plot’ (Dobris, 2018). Whilst De Palma may have been looking to address taboo surrounding menstruation, there is a suggestion of shamefulness in Carrie’s first period and the suppression of her sexuality (Duong, 2018), as the shower scene is immediately followed by her classmates mocking her. Supporting this is the idea that, ‘the only way to explore female puberty, menstruation, and sexuality is through fear’ (Batti, 2015), further evident in Carrie’s embodiment of the monstrous-feminine. This serves as evidence for ‘misused tenets of mainstream feminism in media storytelling’ (Turner, 2018). The same is true for I Spit on Your Grave (Zarchi, 1978), a controversial cult film following female protagonist Jennifer Hills (Camille Keaton) as she murders five men who sexually assault her. Contemporary media, including Promising Young Woman (Fennell, 2020), has adhered to the rape-revenge trope and proved successful in doing so - the film won Best Original Screenplay at the Academy Awards. However, Zarchi’s film features scenes of graphic and prolonged sexual violence that render it a conveyance for ‘nihilistic gore’ (Ebert, 1980), limiting the feminist voice encoded within the text. Despite this, Zarchi ensures that Hills commits a fulfilling act of vengeance without punishment, whilst Carrie’s final act of revenge serves as a failure of sexual repression to contain the monstrous-feminine. Her ‘inability to control her anger causes her house to collapse’ (Duong, 2018), killing her and her mother. This demonstrates that, whilst Carrie refuses to adhere to patriarchal ideology by unleashing her subjugated rage, she is ultimately punished for it; serving as evidence that women in Hollywood studio releases of the 1970s ‘live out silently frustrated lives or are sacrificed [for] their daring’ (Kaplan, 1983, 7). On the other hand, I Spit on Your Grave demonstrates a tendency for more liberated presentations of women and feminist concerns within independent releases from the period.

In conclusion, both Hollywood films are progressive in their inclusion of female protagonists and their subversion of societal norms to address second-wave feminist concerns. Whilst Looking for Mr Goodbar (Brooks, 1977) employs a sexually liberated protagonist to address reproductive rights and male violence, Carrie (De Palma, 1976) serves as a representation of female rage through the incorporation of psychoanalysis and the monstrous-feminine, using powers of abjection to achieve agency and empowerment. However, the films are fundamentally flawed in their ideological conservatisms, looking back to the mainstream cycle of films in the early 1970s that displayed violence towards women; they are read as texts reacting to the threats elicited by second-wave feminism. Evident is a suggestion that male-directed films, such as those analysed in this essay, are only capable of addressing feminist concerns to a limited extent, instead serving as examples of cultural representations representing women ‘as subordinate objects’ (Ryan and Kellner, 1988, 137).

Reference List

Batti, B. (2015) Monstrous Menstruation: On Periods and Pop Culture. NYMG, 9 November. Available from https://www.nymgamer.com/?p=12044 [accessed 27 January 2022].

Baxandall, R. and Gordan, L. (2008) Second-Wave Feminism [ebook]. In: Hewitt, N.A. (ed.) A

Companion to American Women’s History. Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, 414-432. Available from https://books.google.co.uk/books?hl=en&lr=&id=GC8RWfVutfMC&oi=fnd&pg=PA41 4&dq=second+wave+feminism&ots=OJQVSr-

9FC&sig=zLqAhEt0sKV4CZR_8WidqcS2Qtg#v=onepage&q=second%20wave%20femi

nism&f=false [accessed 5 January 2022]

Bertlatsky, N. (2016) Carrie at 40: why the horror genre remains important for women. The

Guardian, 3 November. Available from https://www.theguardian.com/film/2016/nov/03/carrie-stephen-king-brian-de- palma-horror-films-feminism [accessed 6 January 2022].

Bobel, C. (2008) From Convenience to Hazard: A Short History of the Emergence of the Menstrual Activism Movement, 1971-1992. Health Care for Women International, 29(7) 738-754. Available from https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/07399330802188909 [accessed 26 January 2022].

Brooks, R. (dir.) (1977) Looking for Mr Goodbar [film]. Paramount Pictures.

Brown, S. (2009) The Police the Press and Roseann Quinn. APF Newsletters of Susan

Brownmiller. Available from

http://web.archive.org/web/20090220010145/http:/aliciapatterson.org/APF001973

/Brownmiller/Brownmiller01/Brownmiller01.html [accessed 27 January 2022].

Chat, L. (2021) Domestic abuse is a gendered crime. Bristol, UK: Women’s Aid. Available

from https://www.womensaid.org.uk/information-support/what-is-domestic-

abuse/domestic-abuse-is-a-gendered-crime/ [accessed 27 January 2022].

Chemaly, S. (2018) Rage Becomes Her: The Power of Women’s Anger. New York: Atria

Books.

Creed, B. (1993) The Monstrous-Feminine: Film, Feminism, Psychoanalysis. Abingdon:

Routledge.

De Palma, B. (dir.) (1976) Carrie [film]. United Artists.

Dogra, S. (2017) The Thirty-One Functions in Vladimir Propp’s Morphology of the Folktale:

An Outline and Recent Trends in the Applicability of the Proppian Taxonomix Model. Rupkatha Journal on Interdisciplinary Studies in Humanities, 9(2) 410-419. Available from https://www.researchgate.net/publication/319293980_The_Thirty- One_Functions_in_Vladimir_Propp's_Morphology_of_the_Folktale_An_Outline_and _Recent_Trends_in_the_Applicability_of_the_Proppian_Taxonomic_Model [accessed 24 January 2022].

Doyle, S. (2012) Girls and sex once more: Looking for Mr. Goodbar. Slate, 2 June. Available from https://slate.com/culture/2012/06/girls-and-sex-once-more-looking-for-mr- goodbar.html [accessed 26 January 2022].

Dumas, C. (2014) Horror and Psychoanalysis: An Introductory Primer [ebook]. In: Benshoff, H.M. (ed.) A Companion to the Horror Film. Austin: University of Texas Press, 21-37. Available from: https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/book/10.1002/9781118883648 [accessed 20 December 2021].

Duong, S. (2018) Carrie (1976): A Look at Misogyny in Horror Cinema. Medium. Available from https://medium.com/@sarahmichelleduong/carrie-1976-a-look-at-misogyny- in-horror-cinema-b0204f9512fe [accessed 24 January 2022].

Ebert, R. (1980) I Spit on Your Grave. Roger Ebert. Available from https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/i-spit-on-your-grave-1980 [accessed 27 January 2022].

Fincher, D. (dir.) (2014) Gone Girl [film]. 20th Century Fox. Fiske, J. (2010) Television Culture. London: Routledge.

Fennell, E. (dir.) (2020) Promising Young Woman [film]. Universal Pictures.

Hess, A. (20170 How Movies and TV Address Rape and Revenge. The New York Times, 12

January. Available from https://www.nytimes.com/2017/01/12/arts/television/how-

movies-and-tv-address-rape-and-revenge.html [accessed 26 January 2022].

Kaplan, E.A. (1983) Women and Film: Both Sides of the Camera. London: Routledge. Kristeva, J. (1982) Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection [ebook]. New York: Columbia

University Press. Available from

https://users.clas.ufl.edu/burt/touchyfeelingsmaliciousobjects/Kristevapowersofhor

rorabjection.pdf [accessed 6 January 2022].

Malone, M.T. (1990) Christianity, Patriarchy and Abuse: A Feminist Critique. The Conrad

Grebel Review, 8(3) 333-336. Available from http://search.ebscohost.com.ezproxy.lib.usf.edu/login.aspx?direct=true&db=rfh&AN =ATLA0000605069&site=eds-live [accessed 26 January 2022].

Nazaryan, A. (2015) You Can’t Kill Mr. Goodbar. Newsweek Magazine, 8 July. Available from https://www.newsweek.com/2015/07/17/you-cant-kill-mr-goodbar-351119.html [accessed 26 January 2022].

Paul, W. (19770 Hollywood Harakiri: William Paul on the Decline of an Industry and an Art. Film Comment, 13(2). 40-43, 56-62. Available from https://www.jstor.org/stable/43451320?refreqid=excelsior%3A54c9501ca1d742a63 ed8f045c4197f03&seq=5#metadata_info_tab_contents [accessed 26 January 2022].

Propp, V. (1968) Morphology of the Folktale. Texas: University of Texas Press.

Rossner, J. (1975) Looking for Mr. Goodbar. New York: Pocket Books.

Ryan, M. and Kellner, D. (1988) Camera Politica: The Politics and Ideology of Contemporary Hollywood Film [ebook]. Bloomington: Indiana University Press. Available from https://publish.iupress.indiana.edu/projects/camera-politica [accessed 20 December 2021].

Shafer, D.M. and Raney, A.A. (2012) Exploring How We Enjoy Antihero Narratives. Journal of Communication, 62(6) 1028-1046. Available from https://academic.oup.com/joc/article-abstract/62/6/1028/4085807 [accessed 28 January 2022].

Stover, C. (2013) Damsels and Heroines: The Conundrum of the Post-Feminist Disney Princess. LUX: A Journal of Transdisciplinary Writing and Research from Claremont Graduate University, 2(1) 1-10. Available from https://scholarship.claremont.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1028&context=lux [accessed 24 January 2022].

Tarratt. M. (2012) Monsters from the Id [ebook]. In: Grant, B.K. (ed.) Film Genre Reader IV. Austin: University of Texas Press. Available from https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.7560/742055-028/pdf [accessed 20 December 2021].

The Take (2020) Why You Root for Gone Girl’s Amy Dunne. USA: The Take. Available from https://the-take.com/watch/why-you-root-for-gone-girls-amy-dunne [accessed 6 January 2022].

Turner, R.J. (2018) THE RHETORIC OF RAPE-REVENGE FILMS: ANALYZING VIOLENT FEMALE PORTRAYALS IN MEDIA FROM A NARRATIVE PERSPECTIVE OF STANDPOINT FEMINISM. MA. Indiana University. Available from https://scholarworks.iupui.edu/bitstream/handle/1805/17424/Rachel%20Turner%2

0Final%20MA%20Thesis%208%2015%202018.pdf?isAllowed=y&sequence=1

[accessed 26 January 2022].

Wiseman, E. (2018) Carrie: the film that captured the horror of being a teenager. The

Guardian, 1 May. Available from https://www.theguardian.com/film/2018/may/01/carrie-the-film-that-captured-the- true-horror-of-being-a-teenager [accessed 6 January 2022].

Wood, R. (1986) Hollywood from Vietnam to Reagan. New York, USA: Colombia University Press.

Zeichi, M. (dir.) (1978) I Spit on Your Grave [film]. The Jerry Gross Organisation.

Zimmerman, M. (1987) “The women’s health movement: A critique of the medical

enterprise and the position of women”. In: B. Hess and M.M. Ferree (eds.) Analysing Gender: A handbook of social science research. Newbury Park, USA: Sage, 442-472.