Looking Back at JENNIFER’S BODY: A Grossly Underrated Satire

This year marks seventeen years since the premiere of Jennifer’s Body, and I still have to explain why I like this film. This coldly received horror comedy has practically ceased to exist in the awareness of both fans and non-fans of the genre, even though before it ever reached theaters it generated quite a bit of buzz.

The screenplay was written by Diablo Cody, fresh off the success of Oscar-nominated Juno, and the lead role was played by Transformers star Megan Fox, at the time genuinely the hottest body in Hollywood. The concept also promised something more than a standard teen horror – here is a high school student who uses her assets to seduce and then devour her classmates, thus ensuring her status as the hottest girl in school. I wrote more than standard, not outstanding or original.

What went wrong? In the general assessment, the film directed by Karyn Kusama (Æon Flux, The Invitation) was not scary enough to qualify as horror, not funny enough as a comedy, and the plot offered nothing new in terms of school massacres and monsters. I have to admit these accusations are valid, as Jennifer’s Body really does lack the edge that characterizes the best genre mashups combining humor and horror. Cody makes sure the dialogue is lively, punchy, and intelligent, but it does not always go hand in hand with the story of a bloodthirsty teenager.

On the other hand, horror is treated somewhat perfunctorily here – Kusama knows how to depict threat, but cannot find the right punchline for these scenes, replacing genuine chills with rather unimpressive images of someone having a piece of their body bitten off. In the final reckoning, her film loses on the basic level of genre entertainment, yet surprisingly holds up as an ironic commentary on the tragedies Americans experience time and again, as well as a metaphor for the school struggle for survival.

The main characters are two friends dating back to childhood, who could not be more different from each other in high school. Jennifer is a bold cheerleader, a flirt who tolerates no opposition, yet she still hangs out with Needy (Amanda Seyfried), a bespectacled girl with a far more down-to-earth and unremarkable appearance. Their friendship has nevertheless stood the test of time (and changes in the status of school caste hierarchy), allowing both girls to still enjoy each other’s company.

When a little-known rock band is scheduled to play at the local dive, Jennifer is the first to want to have fun to the sound of guitar riffs, mainly because the singer is hot and the band comes from a big city.

For a resident of a town with a suspiciously sounding name – Devil’s Kettle – that is really something. Except that during the concert the venue burns down, many people die, and the band suspiciously drags Jennifer into their van and drives away. When Needy sees her friend the next time, she will be covered in blood and without a pulse, but with an enormous appetite.

Jennifer’s Body comes surprisingly close to the cult Heathers from the 1980s, where teenage Winona Ryder and Christian Slater fought against the school community, resorting even to murder. That black comedy attacked the accepted division of roles and the necessity of accepting one’s place in high school, portraying it as a field of constant struggle for position. Cody and Kusama take over the idea that lay at the foundation of that film – that the happiness and popularity of some are a thorn in the side of others – and add that some people need misfortune to strengthen their status.

The more people fall victim to Jennifer, the sexier and more confident she looks. By not killing for an extended period of time, she risks slipping into mediocrity, which in her case is equivalent to death.

However, while the action of that earlier film unfolded in a decade dominated by John Hughes teen comedies, where pastel clothing colors matched the perpetually sunny aura, Kusama’s work stands in clear opposition to that. Everything here is grayish-brown, dark, and unwelcoming, and it is no surprise – this is an America that still remembers September 11, and the film’s mournful atmosphere recalls the tragedies that occurred in school hallways over the preceding few years.

Cody’s screenplay uses B-movie horror to tell a story about the trauma into which her country fell and continues to fall every time a student comes to school with a weapon and kills classmates and teachers.

Jennifer may not shoot a rifle, and her motives are far more abstract than those of real-life murderers, but there is something disturbingly true in the image of a girl for whom tragedies and omnipresent sadness act as stimulants, even revitalizing forces. Some people evidently do not feel grief after the loss of loved ones and acquaintances; perhaps there really is something inhuman to be seen in such an attitude.

So are those who suffer and experience tragedy better than Jennifer, more genuine? Not necessarily, the film seems to say. Their emotions are designed by a large promotional machine that turns a rock band into heroes, their song into a tribute to those who died in the fire, and any criticism of the official (that is, media) version of events is met with immediate protest from those absorbed in their own mourning. Others stop mattering; what matters most is what I feel. No wonder Jennifer appears untouchable – everyone’s eyes are turned inward.

Jennifer’s Body is at its best when it literally shows how tragedy has become a way of life. In the bar the protagonists visit on the fateful evening, one can buy drinks shaped like towers commemorating the World Trade Center attack – red, white, and blue, but you have to drink them quickly or they turn brown. Jennifer, wanting to lure one of her classmates to a secluded spot in order to eat him, spins a tale about the last words of their mutual acquaintance, who supposedly wished them luck in their relationship. Of course the boy believes it, because if his deceased friend said so, there must be something to it.

Needy finds the perfect term for all this kitsch, calling it tragedy boner; when mourning makes us feel good, it is hard to want to interrupt such a state of affairs. It is a pity the filmmakers ultimately do so, in the finale reducing everything to a standard monster showdown and a somewhat unclear and unnecessary transformation of Needy.

Kusama’s horror is not perfect, but its widespread criticism seems to me not only undeserved, but also puzzling.

Is it really the case that when setting out to watch a specific genre, one should ignore everything that does not fit within it? Jennifer’s Body remains an underrated satire with a very valuable reflection on our nature, punished for the fact that as a horror comedy it failed to meet the expectations placed upon it.

Finally, I must mention Megan Fox. Perhaps not the greatest actress of her generation, but she emerges from this film unscathed. She intimidates with sex, entertains with her demonic persona, and when she wants to, she can act with nothing but a look. And I will only take issue with one thing – there is decidedly too little of the titular body.