Days of the (Un)Dead: Vampires, Zombies, and Other Forms of Chicano/a Horror in Film

Abstract

For as prevalent as the devil is in our folklore and literature, it’s surprising that horror films are not the genre of choice throughout Chicano/a cinematic history. There is the folklore of the devil dancing across Texas, as José Limón has recounted, as well as the devil’s literary appearance (or not) in Rivera’s… y no se lo tragó la tierra, Brito’s El Diablo en Tejas/The Devil in Texas, and Louise G. Robinson’s The Devil, Delfina Varela, and the Used Chevy. Perhaps he drives his aforementioned Chevy on his “highway,” tailgating Luis Urrea en route to “the devil’s workshop,” where Demetria Martinez forges her poetry. One might turn to Ramon Sanchez to find out “how to meet the devil,” as his titular story instructs, and appeal to Daniel Olivas to learn how to speak “devil talk’ to him. But for all of this bedevilment, the devil is suspiciously absent in Chicano/a cinema, save for being sleepless in Sonora, vexing Lourdes Portillo’s family. ¹ While the devil appears in mainstream horror films such as Rosemary’s Baby, The Exorcist, The Omen, Angel Heart, The Prophecy, Constantine, and the aptly titled supernatural elevator thriller, Devil, to name only a few, he’s strangely absent in our celluloid cultural production, which suffers from a relative paucity of horror films in general. We have mainstream movies, independent documentaries, social problem films, barrio, gang and prison exploitation flicks, too many family dramas, comedies, sci-fis, satires, mocumentaries, murder-mysteries, action-adventures, and romantic comedies.

In memoriam, Hector A. Torres— cum mortuis in lingua mortua