Abigail is a fun, almost overwhelming bloodbath of a film that leans heavily into the gimmick of the premise: “What if a little girl was the villain? Wait, wait – what if she’s a vampire? Ooh, a vampire ballerina!”
Granted, it does these things well. The movie doesn’t let up or hold back on what it promises, resulting in a great watching experience. The performances by a stacked cast elevate it to a different level too, making it much more than what could’ve been a B-movie cult film.
The acting, however, isn’t the only thing that brings out a level of depth to the movie. Underneath the initial gimmick and clever comedic timing, there’s so much more that can be unravelled from its layers of blood and carnage.
The horror genre is generally accepted as a medium that explores societal, cultural, and personal anxieties. It creates a space in film that probes the transgressive, explores the unexplored, and pushes boundaries that maybe some other genres can’t. (Even if many of the films in the genre don’t do it very well. But that’s okay!)
To that end, seeing Abigail as something beyond just a fun film can bring out ideas that piece the puzzle of this wild ride in ways that shed a brand new light to the entertainment of it. (Beware spoilers!)
A Kid, a Vampire, AND a Ballerina: Profit?
Children are assumed to be blank pages that absorb their environment, so to assume their innocence is natural. It’s exactly what the “Rat Pack” do in the film when they first kidnap Abigail, not suspecting that she’s the cause of the violence that surrounds them. Generally, children in horror take up a space of a projection of societal anxieties, so evil children (like Abigail) bring out the question: how fragile is the concept of a child and innocence?
Add vampirism into the mix and there’s a paradox to parse through. Knowing the titular character of the film is hundreds of years old (she mentions having centuries of practice being a kid) adds a whole new perspective to her, and puts her in a unique position. She defies the boundaries of childhood and adulthood, but is ultimately restrained by her youth. She’s all at once not a child, and yet is still one: she manipulates and plays with the “Rat Pack” and yet she’s still vying for her father’s attention all this time; she swears up a storm and yet is still stuck in a body that places her in a vulnerable position by the end. Alisha Weir’s pitch perfect performance just adds to it: she exudes a maturity despite her young age.
The idea of a dangerous ballerina has a long history in film too: the sharp expectation of perfection, the training of their bodies to contort into beautiful shapes, losing one’s mind for their art — it’s all great horror fodder. The dance form is used in extremely entertaining ways in the film to show just that. Abigail jetés over obstacles while chasing her victims and allegros so hard when trying to pull Frank (Dan Stevens) up by the foot that she starts floating.
Seeing Abigail in her blood-splattered tutu is a direct reference to the duality she displays. The dance first places her as just another little girl enjoying her frivolous hobby (she’s even sarcastically referred to as Angelina Ballerina at one point). But once she’s revealed to be a vampire, it becomes part of her powerset, a violent and creative way to engage with her prey. She’s perfected herself, like any ballerina, to be a weapon of quiet brutality — one that takes care of her prey with a precision only seen typically by someone dancing on pointe shoes. Anything outside of that is just her having fun.
So, mix all three of those things (an evil kid, a vampire, and a ballerina), and you get Abigail, who’s stuck in stasis of her contradictory existence. Though she isn’t given much space to be more than just an antagonist until the third act (which will be discussed later), glimpses of her vulnerability take from all three of those aspects (for example, watching her melancholically dance with the headless body of Dean, and then getting flustered when she’s caught).
Two Final Girls: Sticking It to the Men
In what was probably the twist that was more surprising than the initial vampire reveal (which wasn’t really a surprise at all because it was all over promotional material), the film’s final act sees Frank turn from a disgruntled ally into a power-hungry vampire, who quickly takes on the mantle of the villain. Joey (Melissa Barrera) was always meant to be the final girl of the film, but with the switch, Abigail becomes one too as she turns into Frank’s target.
The metaphor behind a vampire’s fangs and their bite has always been phallic, even from the time of Dracula. So when Frank doesn’t kill her in revenge immediately, and instead bites Abigail in the neck to gain more strength — it makes for quite a disturbing image for him to be draining the blood from her. He pierces her neck not once, but twice, inflicting a violence that is so personal in nature (a rape metaphor!), he takes away her life force in real time and turns her into a victim of his aggressive attack.
When Frank seems to be at the peak of his form, ready to kill and perhaps violate both Joey and Abigail, the two final girls have to team up to take him on. Ultimately, in a guise of Joey being under his control, and Frank assuming he’s become a master vampire from just the few minutes he’s turned into one (a very “male” instinct!), they stop and then kill him. Which, of course, is topped off with Abigail’s last words: “Here’s the thing about being a vampire. It takes a long time to learn to do the cool sh*t.” All at once, it squashes the mistaken grandeur of Frank and empowers Abigail as the more experienced killer.
Reading deeper into a film like Abigail can unearth a lot more than most can ever realise. Even this article only touches the very basic ideas that can be analysed from its bigger aspects: its main character and its climax. What else could be found from more digging then? Of course, the film can always be enjoyed for that it is on the surface: blood, guts, and fun. But not looking deeper into why all these aspects work together is just another layer of fun that’s often missed out.
Follow Us