Horror is the most universal genre out there. Hosting a myriad of sub-genres, it has something for everyone, from comedy-slashers, to monster movies and psychological thrillers. Lately, however, one subgenre has appealed more than others; body horror. Body horror films are those that centre around a detailed and grotesque transformation of the body into something uncontrollable. The 2020s have seen an insane spike in stories preoccupied with the turbulent and unmanageable body. This year alone, audiences saw Together (Michael Shanks, 2025), The Ugly Stepsister (Emilie Blichfeldt, 2025), and Wolf Man (Leigh Whannell, 2025), all of which, in their own ways, involve characters who attempt (in vain) to stop their bodies from distorting unrecognizably. Whether the immense popularity of this style of film is the result of a global health crisis, lack of connection, or increasingly difficult-to-achieve body standards, today’s political climate pushes audiences to embrace the gruesomeness of bodies.
Global health has recently become a very scary thing. After COVID-19 led to world-wide lockdowns, many have become more conscious of their health, and how it may affect those around them. The idea that one’s own body could mutate and betray has become much less foreign, while the total effects of coronavirus and the lockdown still remain unclear. Wolf Man plays this exact notion, focusing on a man trying to protect his family from a werewolf, only to become infected and slowly turn into one himself. The protagonist goes from sacrificing everything to save his family to being unable to stop himself from hurting them. While this film received less than stellar reviews, the wolf-man’s painful and horrific transformation, as well as his resistance to it, certainly resonated with audiences. His infection resulted from a single bite, spreading painfully and quickly, and the fear that he felt when he was unable to resist his transformation any more, was more than palpable. The film represented not only the physical turmoil that comes with being unwell, but also the mental dread and terror of becoming sick and making others sick.
Together reflects similar sentiments of mutation, however, they come across in a far different way. In the film, a couple find their skins beginning to fuse together to transform them into one person. Finding meaningful social and intellectual connection has and continues to become harder in our present historical moment. Online interactions overtaking in-person communications and COVID-19 lockdowns have created a loneliness epidemic. Together draws attention to the dangers of only ever interacting with one person by stretching things to the extreme: the struggle to cement an identity and/or personality that is distinct. This loss of clear individualisation, and the isolation and frustration that result from it, are extremely difficult to deal with. Seeing it represented corporeally on screen makes it known that the loss of a sense of self can result in a total loss of control.
Recently, more so than in many years, female bodily autonomy has been questioned and restricted, from the inaccessibility of abortions to the unavailability of birth control. Additionally, the years of body positivity in Hollywood have come to a close, and are being replaced with prior unrealistic body standards facilitated by Ozempic. Both The Substance (Coralie Fargeat, 2024) and The Ugly Stepsister demonstrate this through gnarled physical imagery and bodily distortion. In the former, an aging movie actress attempts to regain the stardom of her youth by taking a serum that lets her split into her younger self for a day at a time. In the latter (a retelling of the classic Cinderella story), a young woman does everything she can to make herself beautiful enough to win the favour of a prince. As these stories progress, the women lose control, with horrific physical and mental consequences. These films saw major box-office success because of their relatability to female audiences, and the ways in which they reflected the real life horror of every day.
The genre of body horror is an excellent visual way of representing the lack of autonomy and control that so many of us have felt in the last five years. It allows audiences to revel in the twistedness of a fantastical world instead of feeling overwhelmed about the real world. These films also provide a catharsis, letting viewers see the physical manifestations of their anxieties, and see them come to an end, happily, or not so happily. The world today is a terrifying place, where we can no longer control the one thing that belongs solely to us; our bodies. Body horror reassures us that, in such a context, our disgust, pain and panic are the correct feelings to feel.
