[Pride 2020] Drag Me to Hell: An Incomplete History of the Intersection of Drag and Horror

Despite what you may know about the tenets of “nails, hair, and heels,” make no mistake that the true make-up of good drag is revolution.

Those familiar with queer history know that drag queens, alongside Black trans women and lesbians, were among the first to push back at Stonewall, taking a stand that would mark a turning point in the fight for LGBTQIA+ rights and visibility. Drag artists were also frequently and prominently on the frontlines at Gay Liberation marches, and ready participants in organizations like ACT UP during the fight against AIDS.  

That drag became emblematic of queer activism, in many ways, makes perfect sense. While passersby were often able to turn a blind eye to the plight of those asking to be seen, the opulent presentation of drag made that willful ignorance a whole lot trickier. You can’t just claim to not see a drag queen, because their very presence demands your eye and attention. Ultimately, that’s why it’s a revolutionary art form. What’s more, it remains so on both macro and micro levels.

While not every drag artist is out marching for a cause, the truth remains that the craft forces us to confront what we think we know about reality. In some cases, it’s the blurring of gender constructs (though, it should be noted that, despite common misconception, not all drag is about gender illusion) or the use of a heightened persona to satirize, lampoon, or critique the world at large. In others, it’s the exposition of comedy and camp for similar ends. Sometimes, it’s all of the above and so much more. Drag is an art form that revels in otherness and the outré, the engagement of which is automatically political because it wraps societal and cultural trappings across the knuckles…albeit in an oft glamorous way.

Bearing all this in mind, we’re now brought to the matter at hand: The relationship between the world of drag and the horror genre.

Recently, several horror publications came under fire from fright fans for shining a spotlight on drag artists whose work intersects with the world of the macabre. An oft repeated phrase that appeared in comment sections and tweets was the disgruntled stance that “drag has nothing to do with horror,” among other, similar sentiments calling for these platforms to cease their reporting on the topic.

Unfortunately for those who hold this myopic viewpoint, it ultimately becomes quite telling that they not only don’t know their beloved genre as well as they think they do, but in fact missed a larger truth:

Drag has always had a connection to horror.

Starting at the mere base level of both art forms, drag and horror share the commonality that they utilize a heightened reality to communicate their message. Just as horror uses the allegory of monsters and mayhem to discuss things the mainstream may otherwise not want to face directly, drag employs the lens of the fantastic to do the same.  The goals of each craft are remarkably similar, you take an over the top element of “otherness” to force a confrontation, creating something so elevated the audience dare not look away.

Despite what you may have seen on TV, because of the kinship the two art forms share, the intermingling between drag and horror is not new…and, in fact, is very much woven through the fabric of the history of both.

One of the first notable drag performers of the modern era, Charles Pierce (who preferred the term “Male Actress”) was known for his ability to impersonate some of the most celebrated film stars of the day. One of his stock impersonations was of cinema icon Bette Davis. Significantly, Pierce wouldn’t just perform as Davis alone, he’d often channel her performance of Baby Jane Hudson from the cult classic Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?

A landmark horror film in its own right, Pierce’s interest and reliance on that particular character makes a lot of sense, because Davis was essentially doing drag for the part already. By utilizing make-up and a costume that created a heightened other, Davis took the Baby Jane role from something more than mere performance and created something larger than life. That manipulation of persona is, at the core, what drag is about…and it’s no wonder Pierce tuned into that particular role. It wasn’t just a drag artist doing Bette Davis, it was a drag artist doing a drag artist.

It’s about the embodiment and celebration of other. Drag is not merely about a male-presenting individual dressing up as a female or vice-versa, but a celebration and curation of the empowered persona in whatever form that takes. It’s a surrender to a fantasy made manifest. Drag characters are more than just one-dimensional performances, and are at once deeply connected to the individual playing them, but seemingly capable of existing in the world as their own entity.

Most horror fans know and celebrate Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Elvira is a drag queen…and she’ll tell you so. Curated and created by Cassandra Peterson based on her own experiences in drag bars, Elvira is the face of Halloween. She lives in the world as much as the woman who plays her, and that’s by design. She’s more than just a character, she’s a persona that has stepped out of the imagination and into the real world. That’s drag in the purest sense. Elvira exists as both an idea and as a fact, because her heightened nature demands it of us.

This delve into persona is not unusual for the world of horror…and in creating some of our greatest icons, elements of drag are often employed. There are arguments to be made that Robert Englund is doing a form of drag when he becomes Freddy Krueger (I’ve discussed this extensively in other interviews) and the extravagance of Gary Oldman’s Dracula is not without it’s Drag Race runway merit.

This interconnectedness most certainly permeates drag history. Beyond Charles Pierce, we can track horror and drag intersecting quite consistently over the timeline, often in ways that would go on to influence the mainstream.

The legendary Cockettes, a psychedelic San Francisco theater troupe founded by drag icon Hibiscus in 1969 that rose to prominence over the 70s, were a fixture of Bay Area counter culture.  Comprised of a diverse group of hippies, drag performers, and gender non-conforming artists, the Cockettes utilized their onstage revolution to push back against a society that would marginalize them. Their legendary antics and place in the zeitgeist would draw the attention of fellow iconoclasts like Divine, Mink Stole, and disco sensation Sylvester, all of whom became members of the troupe at various points during the Cockettes’ history.

A major component of the Cockettes was their frequent return and reliance on horror and fantastical imagery. In addition to hosting celebrated and storied annual Halloween events, the Cockettes also created macabre and experimental film projects, including Les Ghouls and the phantasmagorical Luminious Procuress. In creating art that railed against the establishment, the Cockettes never shied away from the spooky or the otherworldly, because they knew the power such elements held.

Of course, if we’re discussing not shying away from confrontational subject matter and Divine, the importance of the work of John Waters and the Dreamlanders in this space cannot be emphasized enough. While Waters never made a film that could be classified as an outright horror movie, it goes without saying that he always wore the influences of subversive cinema on his sleeve, and in doing so, created his own unique brand of cult film in the process. With Divine as his leading lady, Waters gave a whole generation a definitive midnight movie maven who came face-to-face with a sexually aggressive giant lobster, encouraged punk rock anarchy, and strived to be the “filthiest” person alive. The boundary pushing, gross out horror films that came in the decade that followed Pink Flamingoes and Female Trouble owe no small debt to the trail blazed by Waters and Divine first.

…and while Divine was most certainly the most visible and prominent pop culture defining drag queen before the arrival of RuPaul several decades later, she was also not entirely anomalous. In the 80s, Australian-born drag performer Doris Fish had begun to make her presence known in the aftermath of Cockettes-era San Francisco.

Alongside legendary performers and collaborators such as Miss X, Tippi, Phillip R. Ford, and more, Fish formed a troupe called Sluts A Go-Go, and the reliance on and worship of horror and B-movies was more prominent than ever. In addition to mounting such live events and shows as Nightclub of the Living Dead and Ford’s all-drag theatrical staging of The Bad Seed, Fish and co. set to work on a truly ambitious endeavor: The filming of a drag feature film titled Vegas in Space.

Telling the story of a “a strange trip to a planet without men,” Vegas in Space was a raucous camp film in the tradition of the drive-in sci-fi movies of yesteryear. Director Phillip R. Ford has oft cited his childhood adoration of reading Famous Monsters of Filmland as one of the Vegas’s creative points of reference, and the movie quite openly wears its love of late-night cinema on its sleeve. Eventually distributed by indie horror favorite label Troma Entertainment, Vegas in Space would play Sundance and Cannes, but most prominently would be discovered by a generation of genre fans thanks to an airing of the movie on USA Up All Night in 1992.

Known for showing cult, horror, camp, and B-movies, Vegas in Space’s inclusion on Up All Night may seem obvious, but in a pre-Drag Race era where drag queens were next to never seen on TV, it’s a significant moment of inclusion. It felt as if the horror community pulled up a chair and said, “You definitely have a place at our table.” Many people, myself included, discovered Vegas in Space because of that airing…and it was because of a horror show that we found it.

The modern landscape of drag and horror was built on the foundation of work from the likes of Divine, The Cockettes, Doris Fish, and the rest. For those of us who respect that intersection, we can’t underscore its importance or why it’s tantamount to celebrate that history.

…and few embody that sense of celebration more than Peaches Christ.

You can’t discuss the modern intersection of horror and drag without shining a light on the monumental work of Peaches Christ. Quite literally born onscreen (the first appearance of Peaches was in a student film called Jizz Mopper: A Love Story), Peaches rose to prominence in the late-90s, creating her Midnight Mass movie series in San Francisco, which served as a celebration of the cult and horror cinema that she loved. Essentially giving these films a “Rocky Horror treatment,” Peaches would create elaborate pre-shows that allowed audiences to come worship at the altar of the silver screen, and became a veritable cult leader in the process.

In the years since the inception of Midnight Mass, Peaches reach in the space has only grown. In addition to writing and directing a handful of celebrated shorts and her cult classic feature film, All About Evil, the last few years have seen Peaches create and curate a live haunt experience in the Bay Area called Terror Vault, which melds her brand of phantasmagorical queerness with delicious horror. What’s more, the tenets of live film worship that began with Midnight Mass have continued ever onward, with Peaches and her troupe of collaborators mounting celebrated touring stage shows that lampoon and celebrate classic movies like Death Becomes Her, Beetlejuice, and Gremlins. Both a keeper of the San Francisco tradition of the Cockettes live theater of the bizarre and the late-night movie hostess prowess of Elvira alike, Peaches’ place as a maven of the macabre is defined by an intersection of horror and drag she did her way.

Similarly, the Boulet Brothers and the worldwide phenomenon that is Dragula are informed by the knowledge that these worlds are not mutually exclusive. Originally making their names as nightlife promoters and club curators, the Boulet Brothers have always seen the value of the intersection of the darker aspects of queer identity and the art that inspires us. Long before The Boulet Brothers Dragula was a hit television series, it first existed as a club night, inviting participants to come shine the darker side of the rainbow and wear their love of horror on their sleeve.

What’s more, Dracmorda and Swanthula (the eponymous Boulet Brothers) have always celebrated their influences openly. Within the confines of the show alone, competitors have been asked to emulate Clive Barker’s Cenobites, reimagine classic Halloween looks, and redefine what it means to be a vampire. More than mere challenges for the sake of viewership, these exercises are proof positive of the very notion with which we opened this discussion: Horror and drag influence each other. By asking competitors to utilize their artform to channel these elements, the Boulets are putting on display the power of heightened presentation.  It’s the strength of taking something garish and making it mean so much more…and sometimes even find the beauty in the darkness.

Both with Dragula and their recently launched podcast Creatures of the Night, the Boulet Brothers have been at the forefront of much of the modern discussion about the intersection of horror and drag. Committed to the understanding that all art is subjective, the Boulets nonetheless force viewers to recognize the power and place of that art…and why the worlds of horror, glamour, filth, and drag can all exist as one.

Admittedly, in discussion of this topic, I must own that I carry some small measure of bias. In addition to being a longtime friend of Peaches Christ, she and I have also been known to occasionally collaborate together on projects. Similarly, I’ve worked not only as a writer & director on The Boulet Brothers Dragula, but have also appeared as a guest judge. I openly offer this information for the reason that, for me, as a lifelong horror fan and creator, I was drawn to these fellow artists because the idea of horror and drag never seemed mutually exclusive, nor did I ever need to take a step back and consider why they melded so well together.

In fact, I think the two connect so well in my mind is because, quite simply…horror, as a genre, is drag.

It’s the celebration of other, the exaltation of the subversive, the use of heightened reality to expose our failings and celebrate our triumphs. Through the lens of the fantastic, sometimes we are the monster pushed away by society…and others we are the final girl just wanting to belong and shine through the darkest night.

For those who have found themselves in this genre, we often use it as an avatar, a way of understanding our place in the world and connection to one another. We don our love of these movies and stories as brightly as a pair of pumps and a well-applied lip.

The history I offer above is by no means comprehensive, but merely a primer for you to understand these artforms walk hand in hand…and to categorically push one aside and claim it has no relation to the other is to fundamentally misunderstand their beautiful, shared journey of using the fantastic to challenge, fight, and discover ourselves.

If any of the brief glimpses of the individuals mentioned over the course of this narrative encourage you to go and investigate their stories more fully, I promise you won’t be disappointed. What’s more, it merely scratches the surface. The history of horror and drag is so intertwined, there’s a hundred other instances that are waiting to be discovered.

One merely need look at Drag Race winners such as Sharon Needles and Yvie Oddly to know their influences veer into the realm of spooky. Leigh Bowery and the club kid era is steeped in surrealistic and oft ghoulish imagery. Drag icons Jackie Beat and Sherry Vine made influential and lauded horror short films. Drag impresario Carla Rossi hosts Queer Horror, an acclaimed film series in Portland, Oregon that celebrates all the things its title implies. Even RuPaul herself has crossed the genre barrier on occasion, starring in the celebrated short film Zombie Prom, as well as making regular appearances on the audio horror series Darkest Night.

So, what does drag have to do with horror? If not everything, then at the very least, quite a bit. Drag artists have been influenced since the beginning by the genre’s ability to take the fantastic and put it on display in a meaningful way that elicits a desired reaction. In turn, horror has borrowed from the tenets of drag an acute sense of curation of presentation and persona, learning how to develop that sense of outré into something much, much more.

That is not to say that there have not been missteps or miscommunications along the journey (the era of the “crossdresser killer” comes to mind, which in of itself leads to a whole other discussion about transphobic issues within the genre), but it cannot be understated that these two artforms have, in many ways, often fed each other and continue to do so. Especially when one considers that, at their core, the mission statement of both is more or less the same: Hold a mirror up to the world and let it get a good, long look.

Horror is a genre of subversion. Drag is an artform of revolution.

Put them together and you might just change the world.

…just don’t forget your heels, hair, and nails.

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