put in a category with Midsommar (which I loved ) and The Blair Witch Project (which I hated) as a horror film for intellectuals. It is not. It is inexpressibly stupid and offensive. (But that can be said about most commercial films; X is certainly not in a category all its own.) At its squishy centre is something reviewers call real, psychological horror — the fear of aging. But fear of aging is not a universal human dilemma -- rather a problem peculiar to our contemporary youth-obsessed culture. As an aging gay man I am fully aware of what it’s like to be despised for my age -- and not necessarily by other gay men; thank God gay men have invented a category -- ‘bear’-- which is a kind of non-retirement home for sexual older men. I vaguely fit into that category (though I do not have quite enough body hair, but yes, there are hairless bears!) In other words gay culture — though it is often dismissed as ageist, is quite the opposite. (In fact young gays are sometimes dismissed as ‘dumb twinks’ and vilified as much as the old.) Don’t worry, I’m not bitter, and I get very well laid thank you. This is important to mention, as X seems to be under the impression that an aging body is horrific and that all old people run around desperately trying to get young people into bed. (Especially ‘cougars.’ This movie in fact should be retitled ‘Psycho-Cougar!!!!’ It would be even more popular and spawn even more sequels.) The plot— like most horror films, is not really scary, and is endlessly unoriginal. Horror films — like Marvel comic movies — are now a genre that have substituted self-reference for originality. (Apparently there are a lot of filmic in-jokes in X, I frankly couldn’t care less.) So yet again, it’s a bunch of sexy young'uns. But here, the women are very young, the men not so much — because obviously in a heterosexual film it is threatening for straight men to watch young bucks flopping around. But there are very young women, of course, who are invited to dangle their boobs in public. These sexual ne’er do wells rent a farm house (yawn) to make a porn film, and the house is owned by a decrepit old couple — incredibly wrinkled and ugly; they can barely talk or walk. Trouble ensues. Of course the film features lots of pornography (though nothing hardcore, sadly) before we get to the killing. Much of it is instigated by the old woman, who, unlike her husband, is intent on kissing and feeling up these infants — and even dallies with some lesbian action — climbing into bed with one of the girls. It’s so gross! (Just kidding. but that would be the reaction of youth today.) Remember Harold and Maude? None of you are old enough; it was the very opposite of X (and one of my favourite flics). In it, a teenage boy falls in love with an 80 year old woman (the incomparable Ruth Gordon). They have sex and yes, we see some of the action. (My favourite scene is the priest describing his horrifying vision of the two of them in bed: ‘his firm young flesh and her old wrinkled flesh co-mingling' -- making a face as if he’d just eaten bad tuna.) Such a film could not be made today. The mere thought of an older wrinkled lady trying to kiss a firm, hung, young stud sends today's young audiences into gales of laughter mixed with paroxysms of uncontrollable, panicked, screaming joy. (Ugh! puke!) X implies not only that the old are sexual predators because they are sexually frustrated (i.e. sex is over for them) but that they are bitter about it, and angry at the young for being young. This is nonsense. Has anyone ever diagnosed ageism as — not only woke narcissism — but a sociopathic illness? As I understand it a sociopath has no sympathy for others. The fact that we all get old is conveniently forgotten by today’s young; I’m sure it has always been so to some degree. But this romanticisation of physical youth and beauty has now become romanticisation of their ideas. Woke politics is fundamentally ageist. Though supposedly wokies fight the good fight: i.e. diversity for all self-identified minorities, lately they have focused on two relatively new categories -- trans and disabled folx -- while at the same time ignoring two very old categories — the old and the working class -- as well as gays and lesbians. These are no longer included among the oppressed. (Note -- as my friend Allan Stratton mentions recently in Quillette — the destruction of the Alexander Wood statue on Church Street in Toronto). Whether you identify as old, gay, lesbian, or working class, your lack of privilege simply doesn’t count. Intersectionalism has become ‘age-exceptionism’. What we have learned from intersectionality is not that everyone has many intersecting points of privilege or lack therof, but that oppressed youth are much much more oppressed than anyone. Anyway, rest assured that most of us old folx are quite glad to say goodbye to the urgent erections and messy lubrications of the past. We get all the sex we want and need thank you. We may be wrinkled and repellent to you, but we sure love gettin' it on! And yes, along the way we have gained a little wisdom that (I know it’s sacrilege to suggest it) you might very well learn something from.
So there.
