From Carrie and Rosemary's Baby to Us, Hereditary, and Run, the image of the mentally ill mom as villain looms large in the horror genre. What do these movies communicate about mothers living with mental illness, and how do these depictions affect them? Portraying mentally ill moms as problems to be overcome, often by their own children, perpetuates harmful stereotypes with potential real-world consequences, such as the belief that these women are unfit to bear or raise children. More compassionate representations are needed to lessen the social stigma associated with the mentally ill. Fortunately, some of the contemporary horror films are attempting to achieve that task with critical success. Using case studies from a broad range of films--including the classic, campy, slasher, or prestige--and placing them within their historical context, this work extends conversations about horror and mental illness, such as post-partum depression, bulimia, Munchausen by proxy syndrome, and others. Highlighting the trope of the mentally ill mother as a pervasive image within the genre furthers examination of how these films challenge or reflect existing stereotypes and illustrates how horror can be both a site of oppression and a source for positive transformation.

From Carrie and Rosemary's Baby to Us, Hereditary, and Run, the image of the mentally ill mom as villain looms large in the horror genre. What do these movies communicate about mothers living with mental illness, and how do these depictions affect them? Portraying mentally ill moms as problems to be overcome, often by their own children, perpetuates harmful stereotypes with potential real-world consequences, such as the belief that these women are unfit to bear or raise children. More compassionate representations are needed to lessen the social stigma associated with the mentally ill. Fortunately, some of the contemporary horror films are attempting to achieve that task with critical success. Using case studies from a broad range of films--including the classic, campy, slasher, or prestige--and placing them within their historical context, this work extends conversations about horror and mental illness, such as post-partum depression, bulimia, Munchausen by proxy syndrome, and others. Highlighting the trope of the mentally ill mother as a pervasive image within the genre furthers examination of how these films challenge or reflect existing stereotypes and illustrates how horror can be both a site of oppression and a source for positive transformation.

Tony Magistrale explores many of the movie versions of Stephen King's works and provides important insights into both the films and the fiction on which they are based.

A fragmented, lyrical essay on memory, identity, mourning, and the mother. Writing is how I attempt to repair myself, stitching back former selves, sentences. When I am brave enough I am never brave enough I unravel the tapestry of my life, my childhood. —from Book of Mutter Composed over thirteen years, Kate Zambreno's Book of Mutter is a tender and disquieting meditation on the ability of writing, photography, and memory to embrace shadows while in the throes—and dead calm—of grief. Book of Mutter is both primal and sculpted, shaped by the author's searching, indexical impulse to inventory family apocrypha in the wake of her mother's death. The text spirals out into a fractured anatomy of melancholy that includes critical reflections on the likes of Roland Barthes, Louise Bourgeois, Henry Darger, Theresa Hak Kyung Cha, Peter Handke, and others. Zambreno has modeled the book's formless form on Bourgeois's Cells sculptures—at once channeling the volatility of autobiography, pain, and childhood, yet hemmed by a solemn sense of entering ritualistic or sacred space. Neither memoir, essay, nor poetry, Book of Mutter is an uncategorizable text that draws upon a repertoire of genres to write into and against silence. It is a haunted text, an accumulative archive of myth and memory that seeks its own undoing, driven by crossed desires to resurrect and exorcise the past. Zambreno weaves a complex web of associations, relics, and references, elevating the prosaic scrapbook into a strange and intimate postmortem/postmodern theater.

The image of a heavily pregnant woman, once considered ugly and indecent, is now common to Hollywood film. No longer is pregnancy a repulsive of shameful condition, but an attractive attribute, often enhancing the romantic or comedic storyline of a female protagonist. Kelly Oliver investigates this curious shift and its reflection of changing attitudes toward women's roles in reproduction and the family.

Animation filmmaker Lucy Freers must clear her name in the drowning death, in her swimming pool, of a neighbor who had romantic views on her husband. The case plays out against the background of a new Hollywood craze--motherhood.