Just a few short years ago, the pickings were extremely slim for horror movies with explicitly queer characters and themes—plenty of great movies with subtext (some of which we’ll get to), but very few that made that subtext into text. That, despite horror movies having legions of queer fans (seriously, the biggest horror movie lovers I know are anything but straight, including me). A recent rise in horror films with queer characters isn’t just a matter of diversity; it’s about giving audiences what they want. Some of these movies work distinctly queer coming-of-age stories (or metaphors) into their narratives, while others offer LGBTQ leads without fanfare. There’s “elevated” horror here, as well as serial killer movies and slashers.
And, hey, since we’re not about being exclusionary, straights are welcome to scream along. No one’s judging your lifestyle with a killer hanging about.
I Saw the TV Glow (2024)
There's not just one reading of writer/director Jane Schoenbrun's follow-up to their similarly accomplished, if less buzzy, feature debut We're All Going to the World's Fair; despite Glow's tone of mystery and ambiguity, its true motivations aren't far from the surface. Lonely, outcast teens Owen (Justice Smith) and Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine) bond over their love of the fantasy TV series The Pink Opaque, a show that becomes more real to them than their real lives in a boring suburb. It's ultimately about transitioning, mirroring Schoenbrun's own story, capturing a sense of the wonder of saying goodbye to what has been—but also the genuine, primal fear of taking that leap.
Where to scream: Max, digital rental
Knife + Heart (2018)
There are layers upon layers in director Yann Gonzalez’s slick and stylish slasher set in the world of ‘70s gay porn. Anne Parèze (Vanessa Paradis) runs a production company that makes the exploitation movies Knife + Heart centers on, but the series of murders that occurs on set barely draws the attention of the local police, who aren’t terribly torn up about the deaths of gay porn actors. Anne decides that her next film will be about the murders themselves, unfolding a movie-within-a-movie that only draws the attention of the killer (and his spiked dildo). The movie celebrates giallo, with plenty of deep cuts for fans of classic Italian horror, and ‘70s sleaze more generally, but with a look and feel that’s entirely unique.
Where to scream: Shudder, Tubi, AMC+, digital rental
Knock at the Cabin (2023)
M. Night Shyamalan’s mind-bender sets up an impossible choice for married couple Eric and Andrew (Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldridge): One of them will have to sacrifice the other, or the world might end. What looks like a home invasion lead by an imposing character played by Dave Bautista becomes, increasingly convincingly, a warning of the necessity of the sacrifice. The movie’s growing sense of existential dread is heightened by the sense of cozy domesticity of the couple at the movie’s center, who just want to raise their daughter and relax in their cute little cabin.
Where to scream: Digital rental
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)
I’ve seen Rocky Horror at least a dozen times (in various states of undress), and I still couldn’t really tell you what it’s about—something to do with Brad and Janet (Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon) stopping at a creepy old house full of queers (lead by Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter) from outer space. The movie went from being a cult classic to a rite of passage for young queers, full of gleefully over-the-top characters who either start out as sex- and gender-fluid, or who get there by the end. It plays with a ton of old horror movie tropes and, while it might not be the most terrifying movie in queer cinema history, it’s a ton of fun, and a pretty good way to freak out the squares in your life.
Where to scream: Digital rental
Sleepaway Camp (1983)
Problematic? Sure! But queer horror kids of the 1980s (give or take) knew how to take our fun where we could get it. As a slasher, the one is particularly weird, with over-the-top goofy moments contrasted with some genuinely impressive kills. Somehow the fact that no two actors seem to be performing in exactly the same movie helps with the camp (pun intended) vibe. The ending, which, fair warning, I'm about to spoil, is the best and worst part: Our killer is revealed to be Angela (Felissa Rose)—who is then revealed to be Peter, who'd been traumatized after finding her father in bed with another man, and then further traumatized when goofy Aunt Martha (Desiree Gould) raised Peter as the girl she'd always wanted. Angela has been referred to as a trans villain—though I'm not sure it's possible to tell what's going on here. The movie's politics are questionable, but as a wild bit of slasher horror with enjoyably messy queer characters? It hits plenty of the right notes.
Where to scream: Peacock, Tubi, Crackle, digital rental
Dracula's Daughter (1936)
Like father, like daughter in this direct sequel to the Bela Lugosi film, with Countess Marya Zaleska (Gloria Holden) running afoul of Edward Van Sloan's Van Helsing from the original. The two vampires share in common not just an archnemesis, but an eye for the ladies, as well, with Countess Zaleska seducing first despondent Lili and then kidnapping Janet. Producers and censors were worried about the lesbian of it all in the lead-up to the film's release, but also chose to hype it up in the marketing, especially with the very horny tagline: "Save the women of London from Dracula's Daughter!"
Where to scream: Peacock, digital rental
Huesera: The Bone Woman (2022)
Pregnancy and body horror are an indelible cinematic combo, and Michelle Garza's film does it better than most. Val (Natalia Solián) is pregnant, but married to rich jerk Raul (Alfonso Dosal). At first she's thrilled at the prospect of motherhood, until she realizes that her husband and his family are beginning to treat her as a vessel—as though her value is primarily as a mother, with individual personhood coming in a far distant second. She has visions of the title's demon woman, all of which sends her back to her slightly odd ex-girlfriend. The movie rather strongly suggests that stifling heteronormative conformity is about as horrific a fate as can be imagined.
Where to scream: Shudder, AMC+, digital rental
Bit (2020)
Nicole Maines (Supergirl) stars here as Laurel, a trans teenage girl moving in with her brother in LA following her transition. A club afterparty leads to lots of making out and then some blood—it’s not long before Laurel is offered the chance to join a group of vampires dedicated to taking care of the many predatory men walking the city’s streets.
Where to scream: Prime Video, Tubi
Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
The queer coding in the eerie, frequently hilarious Bride of Frankenstein is so over the top that you can hardly even call it subtext. There’s too much gay going on here to ignore. The plot revolves around gloriously flamboyant Dr. Septimus Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger), a mentor of Victor Frankenstein’s from his school days who sweeps in on the eve of Victor’s wedding night to drag him away (with only mild convincing required) so that the two can conduct some experiments to determine if they can make life together. With that plot, and the queer rep in front of and behind the camera (including Thesinger and director James Whale) this one’s very much a gay horror fever dream.
Where to scream: Peacock, digital rental
Stranger by the Lake (2013)
A horror movie with echoes of the sexy thrillers of yore. Here, Pierre Deladonchamps plays Franck, a regular visitor to a nude beach and the surrounding woods, both popular cruising spots. Franck begins a passionate relationship (meaning: lots of fairly explicit sex in the woods) with Michel (Christophe Paou), who Franck later spots drowning someone in the lake. Which: awkward. As the investigation into that event heats up, Franck finds himself struggling to give up a good thing, even in the face of murder. As with the lead in any good erotic thriller, the better the sex, the more Franck will risk.
Where to scream: Digital rental
Seed of Chucky (2004)
Gay Child's Play creator Don Mancini, who's written, directed, and/or produced every film in the main series, was sneaking in queer subtext from the beginning. The addition of Bound star and icon Jennifer Tilly as the voice of doll Tiffany in 1998's Bride of Chucky was a step in the right direction in terms of making the subtext text, but it wasn't until Seed of Chucky that things went really wild. The film sees Tiffany teamed up with Chucky (Brad Dourif) to raise their non-binary child Glen-or-Glenda (referencing an Ed Wood film) while they try to possess the bodies of the real-life Tilly and Redman (playing themselves). If that's not enough camp appeal, there's an appearance by John Waters himself to provide a stamp of approval.
Where to scream: Netflix, digital rental
Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022)
A lot of queer horror turns on the challenges of being other than straight, but Bodies Bodies Bodies leads with a queer couple, front and center: Sophie (Amandla Stenberg) and Bee (Maria Bakalova) are a pretty normal couple who find themselves in the middle of a pretty fucked-up scenario when Sophia brings her girlfriend home to meet her old friend. A murder-in-the-dark-type game takes a turn when someone actually turns up dead, and it very quickly starts to look like Sophie and Bee are the most well-adjusted people in the entire group.
Where to scream: Max, Paramount+, digital rental
The Jessica Cabin (2022)
OK, it’s not terrifying—and it’s not really meant to be—but The Jessica Cabin is a brisk, slight sad, but mostly charming ghost story that’s pretty perfect if you’re looking for something horror-adjacent, but aren’t in a mood for gore. Couple Nicky (Chase Williamson) and Preston (Will Tranfo) arrive at the title Airbnb—which we eventually learn was named for just one of the people who’ve been found dead there—and it’s quickly clear that their relationship is less than ideal. They’re also being observed by best friends Jackson (Daniel Montgomery) and Taylor (Riley Rose Critchlow), two ghosts haunting the cabin, living afterlives of endless boredom and monotony—at least until dead Jackson becomes enamored with living Nicky. It’s all a lovely, low-budget story about love and longing, as most of the best ghost stories are.
Where to scream: Tubi, Prime Video
Daughters of Darkness (1971)
Erotic bisexual vampire movies had a moment in the 1970s, but few (if any) more successful, and more genuinely sexy, than Daughters of Darkness. While others were very into the hot-lesbians-for-straight-guys vibe, Daughters has a look and feel that borders on arthouse, with a grand and elegant style, as well as a willingness to go deeper. Delphine Seyrig plays Countess Elizabeth Báthory, who happens upon a newlywed couple honeymooning in a remote region, and immediately sets about seducing the wife away from human sexual and moral conformity.
Where to scream: Shudder, Tubi, digital rental
Spiral (2019)
Jeffrey Bowyer-Chapman stars as Malik, who moves to a new town with his white partner, Aaron, and their teenaged daughter, each of them hoping for a little peace and quiet. Naturally, things get weird—first in recognizable ways (barbed comments, casual greetings not returned), and then in a more alarming fashion. Malik, both more assertively out and also Black, seems to be the only one who really notices the worst of it, and begins to question both his relationships with his family and his sanity. (Don't confuse this with the 2021 Saw movie of the same name.)
Where to scream: Shudder, AMC+, digital rental
The Lost Boys (1987)
Directed by out gay director Joel Schumacher (several years before he made the gayest superhero movie, Batman & Robin), The Lost Boys finds brothers Sam (Corey Haim) and Michael (Jason Patric) Emerson moving with their family to sunny, sweaty Santa Carla, California just in time for Michael to be seduced into joining a sexy vampire gang by its blonde leader David, played by Kiefer Sutherland. The vamps bait Michael with Star (Jamie Gertz), but his desire with the girl gives way to a fascination with David, made very clear when a blood-drunk Michael's vision of Star fades in favor of David. Even the movie's theme song reminds us, repeatedly, that "Love is with your brother."
Where to scream: Digital rental
The Babadook (2014)
The Babadook's place in the queer pantheon came as a bit of an accident: Netflix listed the movie in its LGBT section one time, probably by accident—but it kinda stuck, even if "the Babadook is gay" was mostly a joke at first. When looked at through that lens, the film works extremely well as queer allegory: Well-meaning but harried widow Amelia (Essie Davis) is struggling to raise her son Sam by herself, finding his behavior increasingly troubling. The imaginary monster that soon becomes real can represent grief, in that fighting it is far less effective than accepting it—but that's also a very potent metaphor for the experience of parents of queer children. The more Amelia tries to change her son and bury his behavior, the more powerful The Babadook grows, and the more eager to escape. It's only through acceptance, and by coming to terms with unchangeable reality, that Amelia's able to find some peace for herself and her son.
Where to scream: Netflix, Shudder, AMC+, digital rental
Rope (1948)
Fussy, fastidious roommates (if you know what I mean) are hosting a dinner party for friends, but there’s a twist: They’ve just strangled an old prep-school pal to death, and plan to serve the food off of the gorgeous antique wooden chest in which they’ve concealed his body. Like the worst upper-class gays you’ve ever met, Brandon and Phillip (John Dall and Farley Granger) are doing this pretty just to prove that their intellectual superiority. Filmed in one take (well, sort of), Hitchcock’s claustrophobic atmosphere and sharp dialogue rachet up the suspense nicely; the thriller was loosely based on a real-life murder committed by lovers Leopold and Loeb in the 1920s.
Where to scream: Digital rental
Scream (2022)
Taking on the essential role of the pop-culture savvy member of the “core four,” Jasmin Savoy Brown joined the Scream requel as Mindy Meeks-Martin, the one who might not know who the killer is, but who definitely understands the rules they’re playing by. She’s also an out lesbian, adding the first canonically queer character to a series that kicked off with a couple of murderers loosely based on lovers Leopold and Loeb. With a sense of humor and some brutal kills, the fifth Scream movie rebooted the franchise whose queer fans are legion, setting the stage for an even better follow-up.
Where to scream: Paramount+, digital rental
Jennifer’s Body (2009)
Only the real ones knew what to do with Jennifer’s Body in 2009, and the film took a long time to become the cult classic it was probably always destined to be. Here, popular teenager Jennifer (Megan Fox) is turned into a succubus by abusive men, gleefully killing boys around school to the general horror of her friend, Needy (Amanda Seyfried). The movie’s main characters aren’t explicitly gay, but there’s a gleeful rejection of both toxic masculinity and heteronormativity about it that’s made it particularly beloved among queers.
Where to scream: Hulu, Tubi, digital rental
Nadja (1994)
Two plot points kick off this arty vampire film: First, it's the death of Count Dracula at the hands of his old nemesis, Van Helsing (Peter Fonda)—traumatizing his daughter (Elina Löwensohn); Then, it's that same Nadja seeking out the daughter of Van Helsing to have sex with so that she can make her a thrall and carry out her goal of getting revenge on the Van Helsing family. A late example of the sexy queer lady vampire genre (it's a thing!), Nadja brings some arthouse style (David Lynch produces and has a cameo) to its blood, gore, and horny lesbians.
Where to scream: Prime Video
ParaNorman (2012)
The stop-motion animated ParaNorman was justifiably critically acclaimed (it’s fantastic), but only a modest box office success. The plot revolves around the titular Norman (Kodi Smit-McPhee), who can communicate with the dead; nobody believes him, and he’s bullied for his claims about his abilities. Norman’s best friend’s older brother Mitch (Casey Affleck), is a stereotypical dumb jock in many ways, but we discover he’s gay at the same time as Norman’s sister. In contrast to Norman, who struggles with the best way to express his abilities in a hostile world, Mitch is entirely comfortable with who he is. It’s all-ages horror, for sure, but the movie is surprisingly smart and charmingly creepy.
Where to scream: Digital rental
The Fear Street Trilogy (2021)
We’re doing three movies at once here, as each film in the trilogy, adapted from the R. L. Stine books, shares a tone, quality, and director (Leigh Janiak, best known for Honeymoon prior to Fear Street). They also share lead characters: Deena and Sam (Kiana Madeira and Olivia Scott Welch), star-crossed girlfriends fighting an ancient curse across time. Fear Street Part One: 1994 kicks off the films by introducing the town of Shadyside, which the local kids call “Shittyside,” and has a dark history of multiple murders, most of them covered up. A group of teens upsets the grave of a witch, kicking off the revival of a murderous cult. The vibe here is a little bit Stranger Things, with some legit gore and scares (it’s YA, but definitely not kids’ stuff) as Janiak pays homage to a wide range of horror movies past. The series continues in Fear Street Part Two: 1978 and concludes (for the moment) with Fear Street Part Three: 1666.
Where to scream: Netflix
Suddenly, Last Summer (1959)
If it seems like a bit of a stretch to consider this movie—based on the Tennessee Williams play—a horror movie, consider that the entire plot turns on revelations of cannibalism and threats of forced lobotomies. It’s a wackadoo Southern Gothic mystery that involves a young man, the son of Katherine Hepburn’s memorably named Violet Venable, who dies under mysterious circumstances on a holiday in Spain. Though Violet had been happy to be his wingwoman in helping him to meet other men for sexual encounters, she’s less keen on the world finding out precisely how he died. She’s also perfectly happy to lobotomize one of her son’s best friends just to make sure she won’t talk; it’s a wild time, right up to the memorably off-the-wall finale.
Where to scream: Digital rental
Titane (2021)
In a sea of superhero movies, be the film about a gender-fluid erotic dancer (Alexia/Adrien, played by Agathe Rousselle) who fucks a car, gets pregnant as a result, and is then taken in by a man (Vincent Lindon) who believes that he's found his long lost son. Oh, and our lead character is also a serial killer. There's a lot going on in writer/director Julia Ducournau's wildly unconventional love story, but what stands out is the ways in which Alexia/Adrien's gender nonconformity is not treated as a subject of horror, but, ultimately, one of love.
Where to scream: Hulu
A Nightmare on Elm Street 2: Freddy’s Revenge (1985)
The subtext here comes through so strongly that it can hardly even be considered subtext, but back in 1985, plenty of straight audiences still missed it. There’s a role reversal in the film’s basic premise, which puts Jesse (Mark Patton) in the position that would be taken up by the “final girl” in most slasher films of the era. Freddy toys with Jesse, at one point caressing his lips with those finger blades; Jesse flees from danger and his girlfriend in equal distress, and nearly always half-clothed. He runs into his gym teacher in a leather bar, and that same jerk later gets bare-ass spanked to death in a locker room. As a metaphor for the torments of being a closeted teen, you could do a lot worse.
Where to scream: Digital rental
The Perfection (2018)
There are shades of Suspiria (and Black Swan) here as Charlotte Willmore (Allison Williams) returns to her prestigious music academy after an absence and finding that another woman (Logan Browning) has taken her place at the head of the class, the two beginning a sexual relationship—if that sounds a little tame, the intentionally disjointed narrative quickly careens into wildly claustrophobic body horror. It might not be the first film to mine dark thrills and gore out of arts education, but it goes as far as any of them, and even beyond.
Where to scream: Netflix
The Latent Image (2022)
Making the most of its budget, The Latent Image is one of those isolated-cabin-in-the-woods slasher movies, but with a few artful and surreal twists. Ben (Joshua Tonks), a novelist in the throes of writer’s block and away from his boyfriend, is visited by a stranger (Jay Clift) who maybe just needs a place to stay for the night? Ben’s active imagination blurs the lines between what’s real and what isn’t, and the maybe sexual/maybe murderous chemistry between the two leads.
Where to scream: Tubi, digital rental
Diabolique (1955)
Diabolique involves a married woman and her husband’s mistress, who both conspire to murder the man and to conceal his death—the sexual tension, and the sense of a love triangle, is just barely beneath the surface. He’d been headmaster of a gossipy boarding school, and the two are pressed to keep things on the down-low through a deliciously twisty-turny plot. Simone Signoret and Véra Clouzot play one of cinema’s most enduring couples, even if their more explicit relationship in the original novel was stripped out of the film version. Still, the closeness between Nicole and Christina is remarked upon by the students and faculty of the boarding school where the two live. They travel together, sharing rooms and even a bed. A climactic moment is played very much as a breakup scene. The movie’s gritty realism inspired Hitchcock to make Psycho.
Where to scream: Max, The Criterion Channel, digital rental
All of Us Strangers (2023)
While it doesn't bill itself as a horror movie (Searchlight wants you to think of it as more of a romantic fantasy), All of Us Strangers leaves us with a sense of existential dread to beat nearly any movie on this list. It doesn't have gory murder scenes or anything, but if you're scared of being alone and forgotten, then this is the movie that will give you chills. The story follows lonely screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott) as he starts a romantic relationship with his mysterious neighbor Harry (Paul Mescal), the two of them the only residents of an imposing new apartment building. The relationship draws Adam to return to his family home, where he finds his (long dead) parents acting very much alive and well. The movie provides a strong reminder that loss is an inevitable part of life and suggests that the only real comfort is in forgetting and moving on.
Where to scream: Hulu, digital rental
They/Them (2022)
It’s a little more tame, perhaps, than its forthright title (pronounced “They Slash Them”) might suggest, but only because of its commitment to treating its queer characters with respect. That doesn’t mean it’s all sunshine and flowers, though, at the conversion camp (lead by Kevin Bacon’s appropriately unpleasant Owen Whistler) where a serial killer is stalking the woods, likely out for a bit of bloody revenge.
Where to scream: Peacock
Midnight Kiss (2019)
An episode of Hulu's Into the Dark anthology film series, the feature-length Midnight Kiss finds a bunch of gay friends (and their straight woman friend) heading out to a gorgeous place in the desert for an annual tradition: they'll each pick someone at random to kiss at midnight. Old resentments bubble to the surface, egged on (unbeknownst to most of them) by a serial killer. It's no spoiler to suggest that they won't all make it to New Year's Day.
Where to scream: Hulu
Interview With the Vampire (1994)
It's great that the modern TV-series adaptation dispenses with the subtext and gets real as to the relationship between Lestat and Louis. Really! Subtext is overrated when it comes to queer themes, typically just a sign that we haven't come far enough to speak openly in acknowledging the obvious. But this 1994 adaptation walks impressively close to that edge, and seeing a couple of big name male stars set up house and raise their surly vampire daughter while sucking each other's blood was thrilling back in the day, and the movie remains a thoroughly entertaining story of housekeeping and murder in New Orleans.
Where to scream: Digital rental
The Haunting (1963)
Robert Wise, a director who made great movies in every major genre, put his hand to horror here and built, possibly, the greatest haunted house movie of all time. Sly and subtle, the movie sees a group of individuals come to hang out at the titular house, including mousy Eleanor (Julie Harris) and the far less timid Theo (Claire Bloom). Theo is gay, which is all-but stated, and she's not only entirely unstereeotypical, she's also neither a victim nor a villain. Of the group, the two women are particularly drawn to the house as a refuge from the outside world—given the way they're treated in the outside world, a haunted house feels positively cozy.
Where to scream: MGM+, Tubi, digital rental
What Keeps You Alive (2018)
It starts when a young married couple, Jackie (Hannah Emily Anderson) and Jules (Brittany Allen), head off to a remote cabin belonging to Jackie’s family. Everything seems fine until a childhood of hers calls her “Megan.” Jules becomes suspicious, with good reason, and comes to learn, gradually, that her wife might not be who she says she is—and might not have her best interests at heart. That premise is chillingly executed.
Where to scream: AMC+, digital rental
Slay (2024)
There's elevated horror, and then there's pure campy fun, and that's what you get with this Tubi(!) original starring RuPaul alums Trinity the Tuck, Heidi N Closet, Crystal Methyd, and Cara Melle as (what else?) a group of drag queens who show up to a gig at a seedy bar, only to find themselves in the middle of a whole vampire situation. It might have been pure silliness, but there's a commitment here from all involved: the acting is genuinely not bad, and the practical effects are impressive—the filmmakers were clearly making the most of every dollar they had. Think From Dusk Till Dawn, but gay.
Where to scream: Tubi
Pitchfork (2017)
Listen: gays deserve silly little slashers, too, and this stylish one is a cut (ahem) above. What starts as a coming-of-age story about Hunter returning home to come out to his conservative father gets bloody fairly quickly, as Hunter and his supportive friends are hunted through the woods by the title killer.
Where to scream: Tubi, digital rental
Otto; or, Up with Dead People (2008)
Before getting far more explicit with his follow-up, the horror porno L.A. Zombie, writer, filmmaker, and general queer provocateur Bruce LaBruce gave us this story of Otto, a young gay man who's pretty sure that he's a zombie, and who becomes involved with a couple of German lesbian filmmakers working on an epic political-porno-zombie movie (naturally). That film's gay zombie orgy is part of a climax involving a queerbashing and a mind-bending merging of fact and fiction.
Where to scream: Tube, digital rental
T-Blockers (2023)
Director Maio Mackay’s T-Blockers makes the absolute most of its budget by blending old-school EC Comics sensibilities (and a color palette to match) with some impressively real and compelling performances, it's not subtle: the movie follows Sophie (Lauren Last) and her close group of queer friends just trying to live their lives in increasingly anti-queer times. Bad enough, even before the parasitic worms show up and people start disappearing. The metaphor about the spread of alt-right bigotry and hate isn't even remotely subtle, but that's to the movie's credit: it's both a coming-of-age story, and a middle finger to hate wrapped up in a gloopy and freaky monster movie.
Where to scream: Digital rental
Psycho (1960)
Hitchcock worked with a lot of queer actors and dealt with (often incredibly thinly) veiled queer themes in movies like The Lodger, Strangers on a Train, North by Northwest, and Rope. Closeted actor Anthony Perkins takes all of that to another level—Norman Bates' shy, unassuming, and twinkish (not an insult!) demeanor concealing a roiling, ambiguous sexuality that's explosive enough to upend (or end) the lives of everyone around him, serving as the combustible fuel that powers the film. He's obsessed with Janet Leigh's Marion Crane, or at least thinks he ought to be, while his cross-dressing alter-ego mother insists that girls are icky and must die. Described as "fruity," the fact that the movie climaxes in the fruit cellar might signify nothing, but also seems like the kind of winking joke that Hitch loved to pepper his movies with.
Where to scream: Prime Video
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