The Cis-Tem Can't Stop the Punk Rock Spirit of Horror Filmmaker Alice Maio Mackay

Curry Barker ("Obsession") and Kane Parsons ("Backrooms"), two up-and-comers filmmakers in their 20s, bucked the Hollywood machine these past few weeks with back to back horror movie sensations that are bringing young people to movie theaters in droves. It's pretty incredible to see, and a testament to how the form's future depends on the younger generation to pave their own path. But alas, not all indie filmmakers are created equal in terms of exposure. There's still plenty of fresh young talent who have to go the distance in order to get their work seen, distributed and, more importantly, recognized. It can be even harder for queer filmmakers, especially in the midst of a regressive cultural climate. With that said, it brings me great pleasure to introduce all you dear readers to a truly exciting voice in Alice Maio Mackay. The Australian filmmaker has already become something of a critical darling in the indie horror scene, but is far from new despite only being 21 years old. Mackay spent her very early teenage years making short films and seeing firsthand how sets are run. In 2021, she made her feature directorial debut at just 16 years old with the vampire coming-of-age flick "So Vam." Mackay has since made five more features, with a seventh on the way ("Our Effed Up World") and thankfully shows no signs of slowing down. She works with a lot of the same low-budget constraints as most indie filmmakers, yet manages to show up many of her adult counterparts through the use of color alone. What makes her work truly special lies in the lens in which they're made. The common thread in films like "T Blockers," "Satranic Panic" (my favorite title of hers) and "Carnage for Christmas" is a prevalent sense of community. Mackay is a trans woman who tells stories revolving around her characters having to navigate existence in a world that seems bent on questioning their right to. She brilliantly weaponizes sects of horror monsters like slugs, demons and slasher villains as blatant metaphors for transphobia. It gives this ugly and unfounded vitriol the forms they truly deserve, giving them no room to even pretend they're upstanding people. The monsters, however, are nothing compared to the internal terror that her protagonists feel from existing in a corroded world. Mackay's body of work consists of films that are unapologetic in how little they care what cisgender audiences will make of them, and that rules. It's an antidote to how transgender characters are often presented onscreen through projects made by cisgender folks. While taking on the form of horror movies, her films eschew narrative genre conventions in favor of lingering in the space of intimate conversations pertaining to their inner lives a la Gregg Araki. No studio head would ever let Mackay handle her films with the same punk rock spirit she currently imbues them with, which is what helps them stand out in a good way. She keeps improving her craft with each new film, and it shows with her latest — which also happens to be my favorite of hers so far. "The Serpent's Skin" follows Anna (Alexandra McVicker), an introverted trans girl who leaves her transphobic homelife behind to go live with her older sister Dakota (Charlotte Chimes). The big move is made slightly easier when she forms a flirtatious connection with Danny (Jordan Dulieu), the very attractive emo boy living in her apartment complex. In the midst of her encounter, Anna starts to have sensual visions of a beautiful tattoo artist named Gen (Avalon Fast). A near psychic brain-popping ultimately brings the two together, kicking off the start of a romantic bond that heightens their mutual witchy prowess. Everything seems to be going great, that is, until Gen accidentally imbues Danny's serpentine neck tattoo with the power of a demon that proves to be a whole lot of trouble. Mackay wears all of her influences on her sleeve by evoking the "The Craft" and "Charmed" through the prism of a '90s television fantasy series, albeit with even more sapphic overtones. "The Serpent's Skin" is largely a tender romance between Anna and Gen, and how they change one another over the course of their relationship. The former is afraid of stirring the hornet's nest of TERFs (Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists) and other violent individuals, but it proves to be so much easier (and freeing) with the latter's more outwardly rebellious manner guiding her in the right direction. McVicker and Fast share excellent chemistry with one another, which really shines through in the sequences that see them baring their souls. It helps that the movie is really sexy too, bathing our leads in a pool of striking pinks and blues as they display their love, as well as their insecurities. Joining her crew with "Carnage for Christmas," editor Vera Drew (also director of "The People's Joker") once again makes such a natural fit with Mackay's visual sensibilities. They're a match made in heaven, and I hope they continue to keep working their screen magic together. Mackay's films, which she co-writes with screenwriter Ben Pahl Robinson, are like a little beacon of hope in these troubling times. The public discourse over whether trans people deserve to live long and happy lives with the gender-affirming care they need, especially in the U.S., only gets more and more upsetting with each passing year. For as serious as her films can get, Mackay embraces pushing back against this hateful rhetoric and doesn't accept defeat as a solution. It's a great lesson going into this year's Pride month and beyond. "The Serpent's Skin" is now available for rental/purchase on most PVOD streaming platforms, while all of Alice's other films are streaming on Shudder.