2026's Most Terrifying Movie

 A Review of Melania (2026)

Melania -2026's most terrifying movie

2025 was an exciting year for horror with films like Weapons, Sinners, Eddington, and 28 Years Later that used familiar film tropes to examine the horrors and monsters that we face regularly, whether these are supernatural or even if they walk among us. It looks like 2026 is off to a horrific start, meaning that there have been some further exciting and terrifying moments that have played out in entertainment. However, nothing can prepare audiences for the sheer horror that they will encounter in one of the most terrifying and shocking displays of sociopathy and evil captured on film since Henry Portrait of a Serial Killer. The new movie Melania is truly a frightening display of a creature possessed with the desire to infiltrate and infect the upper echelons of American power in order to breed to ensure a future for her alien race in America. There have been other great horror-sci-fi films that have used these kind of shape-shifting creatures who often take on the role of a beautiful woman, from Invasion of the Body Snatchers to the underrated 80s flick The Hidden, but none of them have incorporated the sheer psychopathy and disregard for humanity in the way Melania does. In some ways Melania also resembles a more horror- themed version of the classic Nicolas Roeg-David Bowie film The Man Who Fell to Earth, where we witness an alien abandoning his family for the spoils of capitalism. However, even Bowie’s alien experiences love and some sense of humanity with his memories of his family and previous life on his home planet. Melania has none of this human emotion. As an invading alien, she brilliantly plots a scheme to access and draw close to the nexus of power by selecting an animated corpse, a hollowed out rotten husk of a human, as her future breeder. These scenes interacting with her husband reminded me of the film Nekromantic, where the characters are driven by a Thanatos-like death drive to ultimately find pleasure in the decay and violence around death. Indeed Melania and her corpse-groom make a great couple, as they both seem to be incapable of human emotion, much like Henry and Otis in Henry. However, they eventually breed and give birth to Melania’s progeny, who may be destined to take control of the corpse-man’s empire.

Audiences watch as Melania climbs the social and political ladder, gaining closer access to the nexus of power. What is most frightening about Melania’s will to power is her utter disregard for other’s feelings or emotions. It is truly the banality of evil. Audiences watch as Melania picks out gold fixtures for a bathroom while children are placed in cages, implicitly awaiting their eventual slaughter and used as food for Melania and her progeny. Melania decorates her home in a bizarre and disturbing style while American families go hungry, with no government access to food stamps or other methods of aid. Melania selects outfits from a vast wardrobe of high-end fashion designers while American citizens are gunned down in cold-blood by her corpse-groom’s hired henchman. What is most terrifying is that as Melania continues to climb towards power, more violence, bloodshed, cruelty and terror erupt like a gaping wound across the land. She remains silent throughout all of this, only using her new access for her own benefit, and not recognizing the suffering of the people—women, children, and men. Audiences are left to speculate whether she chooses to ignore the violence and bloodshed or whether she revels in it, taking more and more while others give. It’s this kind of ambiguity that makes the film so terrifying and leaves audiences assured that she really doesn’t care, but it leaves us wondering whether we do. Melania has many elements and markers of the great horror films of the last 30 years, but what makes Melania truly terrifying isn’t the blood, violence, or threats of alien invasions; it’s the complete indifference to humanity, the callousness towards suffering and violence, and the complete sociopathy. Melania is a fascinating and terrifying character study and allegory of how far certain creatures will go to access power, and how they won’t allow anything to stand in their way. 

Examining Identity and Disability in 19th Century Performers: Currencies of Cruelty

 Currencies of Cruelty: Slavery, Freak Shows, and the Performance Archive by Danielle Bainbridge

Currencies of Cruelty book cover

Author and scholar Danielle Bainbridge

Many thanks to NYU Press and NetGalley for the advanced copy of Danielle Bainbridge’s critical and thoughtful examination of the intersection of slavery, disability, and performance in Currencies of Cruelty: Slavery, Freak Shows, and the Performance Archive. This was a challenging yet rewarding read for the insight and voice it provides to several performers during the period of enslavement and the antebellum period that followed, with most of the focus centered on an amazing woman, Mille-Christine McKoy, whose conjoined body was promoted as one individual, who was two different people, or as Bainbridge notes their tombstone reads “a soul with two thoughts. Two hearts that beat as one.” This was a fascinating book that explored the extraordinary life of Mille-Christine McKoy and raised questions about her life where she was born into slavery, and how her disability afforded her status and opportunities to develop a voice. However, Bainbridge’s research and analysis into Mille-Christine’s life identifies that this wasn’t always as straightforward as historical archives might suggest, which raises further lines of inquiry into the nature and subjectivity of the recorded history and artifacts that researchers like Dr. Bainbridge encounter. I wasn’t expecting this line of questioning in the book, and it’s something that I will need to revisit and grapple with, especially since the last chapter that deals with texts and performances that descend from these archives and voices, both aural and silenced. Nevertheless, Dr. Bainbridge identifies gaps and areas in the archives where Mille-Christine’s voice(s) are mostly absent, and questions whether her performances are celebrations of her talent or exploitation of her enfreakment. Dr. Brainbridge’s research explores how earlier exploitation of Mille-Christine on stage as a girl led to her ability to reset the parameters of her performance, and to develop further skills including singing, dancing, and talking simultaneously in different languages, to further her individuality and humanity. Nevertheless, these performances were conducted under ownership, and despite her status as free after the Emancipation Proclamation, her prior enslavers as well as others sought to control Mille-Christine’s personhood. Dr. Bainbridge presents court cases and other letters from the Freedman’s Bureau sent on behalf of Mille-Christine’s parents that argued for her return to her family. Furthermore, Dr. Bainbridge compares Mille-Christine’s challenges to her autonomy and performances to other individuals who were often exhibited and exploited during the 19^th century before and after slavery including Chang and Eng Bunker, probably the most well-known conjoined twins, Joice Heth, the supposed nurse of George Washington, and Blind Tom Wiggins, a pianist and composer who possessed an incredible gift for music. In all of these cases, we see how exhibitors often exploited these individuals due to their uniqueness. I also found it interesting that Dr. Bainbridge notes how many of them served as symbolic representations for America as the question of slavery gradually ripped the country apart. Both the McKoys and the Bunkers conjoined status was often mentioned in the context of uniting the country together while Joice Heth, who was not nearly as old as PT Barnum claimed, served as a reminder of the beginning of the country. Furthermore, we see that this kind of exploitation and misrepresentation not only occurred in their lives, but often after death as well when Heth was publicly autopsied for paying customers and the Bunkers were cast after death, with their bodies, organs, and casts on display at Philadelphia’s Mütter Museum. Throughout Dr. Bainbridge’s book, there is a call for the respect and humanity these individuals deserved and often did not receive in life and after their deaths.

I also appreciated Dr. Bainbridge’s reflections on visiting the Mütter Museum, a museum I’ve been to a few times and actually took students on a field trip there (our school was a few blocks from the museum) to see an exhibit on presidential health. While I find the museum fascinating, I also find it to be a deeply disturbing place. Dr. Bainbridge’s reflection on her reflection was a great point to consider our own interests and fascination with difference, disability, and death, and it’s something that has stuck with me since reading the book. Overall this was a fascinating and thought-provoking book. Dr. Bainbridge’s questioning of historical archives and positing that they are future perfect, or rather always looking to shape the future by describing the past, kind of reminded me of School Teacher’s admission about the definitions belonging to definers in Morrison’s Beloved. Dr. Bainbridge’s deep and detailed questioning of the archives not only raise questions about the nature of power and voice in historical analysis, but they also led her to create her own performance and short film about Mille-Christine’s life, and compare her own production to other works that use archival material as a means to elevate new voices to the historical record. This is especially important since performers like Mille-Christine, the Bunkers, Blind Tom, and Joice Heth mostly were denied a voice being both people of color and people with disabilities, identities that intersected and provided them unique public exposure, yet also predetermined their identities. The last chapter on aural fugivity in these works was also interesting and left me wanting to read these poems (Olio and Zong!) and watch Dr. Bainbridge’s short film Curio, which was adapted from her stage production. I enjoyed reading about her process and ideas for creating the stage performance and then adapting it into a short film and consider the kinds of production changes she needed to make. Furthermore, I liked reading about how her work was inspired by and connected to the poems Olio and Zong!, inspiring me to seek out these texts.  While this chapter differed from the other more historical-based chapters that analyzed the archival materials related to Mille-Christine’s life, I think it showed how artists and scholars can use archival work to provide voice and humanity to the forgotten and misunderstood. Furthermore, it emphasizes the importance of not just aurality, but also silence, and how meaningful silence and the absence of voice can be when examining texts and archival materials. In fact, Dr. Bainbridge’s work will make me listen closer for the silences and pay more attention to the absences, since it’s not always what is written, but often times what is missing or hidden that adds additional meaning. Although this is a challenging read and a scholarly text that not only analyzes history but also theorizes about voice and identity in archives, it is a rewarding read that will challenge our thinking about history, archival materials, and identities, especially the identities of those with disabilities. Highly recommended!

The Life and Times of a Performer

 Nobody's Fool: The Life and Times of Schlitzie the Pinhead by Bill Griffith

Nobody's Fool book cover

I can’t believe I found this book and it was on sale! I also didn’t know that Griffith was responsible for creating Zippy the Pinhead, the character popularized by the Ramones. In this graphic novel, Griffith takes us through the life of Schlitzie, the performer from Tod Browning’s Freaks. I also read Freak Show by Robert Bogdon, which traces the history of sideshow performers throughout the 19^th and 20^th centuries, and Simon Metz (possibly Schlitzie’s real name) featured in that book as well. I absolutely loved this book as it presented the human story of Schlitzie and helped to share some of his possible thoughts and concerns throughout his life. Griffith did a lot of research to learn more about who Schlitzie was and where he traveled throughout his long life performing in movies and on side shows. While there were many performers who were exploited because of their differences, and Schlitzie was one of them, he also received some great treatment from others, and due to the circumstances of the time, institutionalization would have been much worse for someone like Schlitzie. Griffith’s book is a loving tribute to Schlitzie and differences, and I thought that the book really advocates for learning more about those with differences and seeing what they have to offer and contribute rather than making assumptions about them based on appearances. Furthermore, Griffith shows how the context and setting of situations can influence behavior, and when not in the proper context and not given appropriate opportunities, someone like Schlitzie may act out. I greatly appreciated this book, and I can see how someone like Griffith also recognized how important Schlitzie was from his moment from Freaks. This book helped to give me more insight into Schlitzie’s background and experiences. Highly recommended for those who are fans of the film Freaks. 

Anno Satanis! A Biography of Anton LaVey

 

Born with a Tail: The Devilish Life and Wicked Times of Anton Szandor LaVey, Found of the Church of Satan by Doug Brod

Born with a Tail book cover

An early picture of LaVey with a lion

LaVey conducting a mass

Anton LaVey

Big thanks to Hachette Books and Netgalley for allowing me to read an advanced copy of Doug Brod’s book Born with a Tail: TheDevilish Life and Wicked Times of Anton Szandor LaVey, Founder of the Church ofSatan. Born with a Tail could also be titled Born with a Tale, as Brod’s book about Anton LeVey, the founder of the Church of Satan, chronicles many of LaVey’s stories and myths that have been both part of his legend as well as typically debunked by his critics, his family, and his followers. The tail in question is one that LaVey claims he had up until his adolescence, when it became an irritation and needed to be removed. This was also the time he supposedly joined the circus and became an apprentice to a lion tamer, although there is no real record of his time in the circus or as a lion tamer. However, as Brod’s in depth and colorful biography presents, we learned that LaVey kept a lion at the Black House, the Church of Satan’s longtime headquarters in San Francisco, for a number of years after the church’s inception. Interestingly, LaVey’s lion, Togare, somehow ended up with Tipi Hedren. While LaVey’s stories and legends are entertaining and serve mainly to boost his black magic cred, it was also amazing to see how many different people and celebrities LaVey crossed paths with as the head of the Church of Satan.

 I’ve always had an interest in the Church, but my awareness of it came at a time when the focus had really shifted, and I think I was more aware of the Satanic Temple, which Brod differentiates from the Church of Satan towards the end of the book. I actually had the Something Weird DVD for Satanis and had read a book about Satan in popular culture—I thought it was from Feral House, but I can’t find it. In any event, the book featured a lot of LaVey and some of the individuals he was involved with towards the latter 1/3 of the Church’s period—the 80s and 90s. I had some idea of about the original philosophy and some of the popular myths, but Brod’s book really helps to establish a strong timeline and interrogate many of the myths about the Church and LaVey’s life. For example, we find out that despite LaVey’s insistence, he was not involved in Rosemary’s Baby, and definitely did not play The Devil in the dream sequence. Additionally, we learn that LaVey was probably not a crime scene photographer for the San Francisco PD, in the same way that Weegee was. I did find it interesting that LaVey recognized the power of personal stories, media, and embellishment to further his cause and create a Church to pretty much do what he wanted and have other people give him money. Brod’s detailed interviews and stories show that LaVey didn’t live luxuriously off his followers, especially towards the end of the book and LaVey’s life. However, he seemed to maintain a public front as someone who advocated a “Satanic” life to receive funding. Brod presents a critical view of LaVey, showing us both LaVey’s carefully constructed life along with the reality and criticisms he faced; however, I did find it sad that LaVey devolved into a kind of fascist lover and nazi apologist. This is where I always was kind of confused about the Church and its affiliations with musicians like Boyd Rice. Brod’s book helps to provide more insight into this time period in the Church, and it helps to clarify, for me at least, that LaVey was basically accepting of nazis. I also learned about LaVey’s association with Marilyn Manson towards the end of LaVey’s life, and this also makes sense since Manson was someone who flirted with nazi and fascistic imagery. The strange part for me was learning that Greg Turkington shows up in this book as someone who ended up releasing some of LaVey’s organ music, and eventually compiling a posthumous collection of LaVey’s writing. Like I mentioned previously, it’s so strange to think about all of these disparate celebrities and artists who had some kind of connection with LaVey—from Sammy Davis Jr and Jayne Mansfield to Greg Turkington and Marilyn Manson. Turkington seems to really have bonded with LaVey over his older music and eccentric stories, whether they were real or not, and mentioned that LaVey didn’t really discuss fascism or anything. Through Brod’s presentation of these disparate individuals, we learn how effective LaVey was at reading people—like a carny—he’s able to size people up and see what would appeal to them. It also helped to see how this kind of American interpretation of religion and religious freedom allows for this kind of trickster or confidence man, who is ultimately looking to exploit people for his own ends. As I was reading this book (which I also couldn’t put down), I couldn’t help but think of how LaVey would thrive today on social media, and how similar he is to influencers and others looking to create a self, whether it is authentic or not, and to market themselves and their lifestyle to others. It’s interesting to think about how much of this social media economy is “satanic” in the sense that it is really based on the pleasure principle and not being concerned with integrity or reality even, and being more focused on style, creation of the self, and shaping one’s own reality. I really recommend this book since it spans an incredibly interesting period of popular American culture, and looks at a figure who may not be that well known, but has been influential in shaping many different fields of entertainment. The only thing that I would have liked to see more of in this book is pictures. I am not sure if published editions had pictures, but I think that a subject as interesting as LaVey that touched many different areas of popular culture would have benefited from more pictures. Nevertheless, this was a fun and interesting book. 

The History And Reconsideration of Freak Shows

Freak Show: Presenting Human Oddities for Amusement and Profit by Robert Bogdan

Barnum and Bailey Poster Public Domain

See page for author, CC BY 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Freak Show at Ohio State Fair by Jianjian Liang CC BYNC-ND 2.0

As a huge fan of Todd Browning’s Freaks and Leslie Fiedler’s Freaks: Myths and Images of the Secret Self, I was excited to read Bogdan’s book about the history and controversy surrounding freak shows and side shows. Bogdan traces the history of human exhibitions from the early exploitation of indigenous and non-European people on display in the 17^th and 18^th century, as well as advancements in medicine that began to examine human differences in appearance as abnormalities. Bogdan explores the conflicts inherent in this medical model that seems to argue for a standard in appearance and development and using deviations from the norm to advance our understanding of human development. At the time of these developments in medicine, PT Barnum was gaining popularity and frequently exhibited humans as part of his shows. Bogdan explores how performers like General Tom Thumb were able to make a living and become rather well known as a result of their exploitation and exhibition. He not only explores the history of some of the initial performers, but also interviews and explores the lives of modern performers (this book was published in 1988, so the performers were living in the 70s and 80s), and how the movement away from human exhibition was both a blessing and a curse. While Bogdan acknowledges the morally dubious aspects of human exhibition, he also interviewed some performers who struggled to find work or make a living due to restrictions and a declining interest in human exhibition. I found this book fascinating and important in exploring the sociology of disability and difference, and the complications that arise from our attempts to understand differences and norms. I also appreciated Bogdan’s meticulous research and classifications, noting that some performers were exploited for their differences, while others sought to explore their exceptionality and share the talents they developed as a result of their differences and/or disabilities (often performers without arms or legs). This was a great book that explores a controversial, yet important aspect of American culture and entertainment.