Ginger Snaps

succeeds where prestige horror fails, insofar as Ginger Snaps completely gets that the structuring metaphor(s) aren't enough by themselves. there's definitely insight here about puberty and sex themselves, but far more interesting is the profoundly human scaffolding built around it about what those traumas can do to relationships. idk it's just kind of wild to watch a horror movie that bothers with empathetic and sophisticated characterization when most contemporary horror cinema is either soulless art-horror or sadistic torture porn bullshit.

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