‘Seed of Chucky’: Horror Outside the Binary
In the horror genre, a lot of scares manifest as “fear of the other” by using a marginalized group as a source of terror. This is where a lot of trans representation in horror falls. Both coded and explicitly trans characters (almost exclusively trans women or transfeminine characters) end up filling the position of antagonist in one form or another. Where there’s an overrepresentation of transfeminine characters in negative roles, there’s also a large void of transmasculine or nonbinary characters in horror. Perhaps this is because the societal “othering” is incredibly different from that of transfeminine people and trans women. It’s also difficult to “other” something that’s a relatively novel concept to cis people. The concept of “nonbinary” is confusing, but not a source of terror.
The entire Child’s Play franchise is chock full of both explicit and subtextual queer themes and representation. Don Mancini, a gay man, has had an abundance of creative influence on the series even before taking over the director’s chair with Seed of Chucky. The whole concept of “man stuck in a body he wasn’t meant to be in” has near-explicit gender-nonconforming undertones. Additionally, the films following Seed of Chucky, all directed by Mancini and despite removing evidence that the critical and commercial bust of a film ever existed, play around with LGBT representation.
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Curse of Chucky has two lesbian characters and Cult of Chucky confirmed Tiffany Valentine is bisexual. Chucky also transfers part of his consciousness into final girl Nica and seems fine with the “perks of being supernaturally possessed” (i.e. boobs). Seed of Chucky is by far the MOST explicitly LGBT the series gets, even without the layers of camp infused deep within the film’s fibers.
What really adds the extra spice is that Seed of Chucky—a film released in 2004—has a retroactively canonically nonbinary character: Chucky and Tiffany’s child Glen/Glenda. Although Mancini didn’t publicly confirm this until 2019, the evidence that Glen was gender-nonconforming in some way cannot even be considered subtextual. It’s close to being as blatant as possible without Glen saying he’s nonbinary verbatim. Weirdly enough, it’s also one of the best portrayals of a nonbinary character in the shallow pool of media representation we’ve been offered.
Before getting into the nitty-gritty of why Glen is the best nonbinary representation the horror canon has received ever, spoilers and pronoun explanations are needed. In modern terminology, Glen is “genderfluid”, confirmed in the Chucky TV series. He, she, and they pronouns will be used interchangeably for them as all three pronouns are used to refer to them throughout the film and his brief mention in the show.
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Glen’s names are an outright reference to the 1953 Ed Wood film Glen or Glenda—like those are the names his parents picked out for him. Much like his human counterpart, Glen feels compelled to choose one gender over the other out of other people’s comfort. The names are really where the parallels end though. Where Wood’s Glen/Glenda is closer to a Psycho-level portrayal of transfemininity inspired by Wood’s own battles with his gender identity, Glen in Seed of Chucky feels no strong tie to either gender.
Glen performs, quite literally, like a puppet for anyone to project their ideas onto. He molds to fit the wants of others around him without fully expressing his own identity. In the emotional climax of Seed of Chucky, Glen literally states, “Sometimes I feel like a boy, sometimes I feel like a girl”. That’s about as close to renouncing the gender binary as a film could get in 2004. However, the homage to one of the first more or less transgender horror films is a nice nod to Glen’s gender identity being front and center of the film despite Glen or Glenda being incredibly outdated then and excruciatingly outdated now.
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So why does Seed of Chucky—a film written and directed by a cisgender man and referencing an incredibly dated piece of representation—have a good grasp on how to write and portray a nonbinary character? How is Glen, a doll spurned from the loins of two serial killers trapped in large plastic dolls, one of the most human portrayals of someone grappling with the constraints of the gender binary? The most obvious factor is that this is Glen’s story. The title of the film may bear Chucky’s name and the story is a continuation in the killer doll’s journey. But, Glen is the centerpiece and the main figure in the plot.
Chucky doesn’t even technically show up until ten minutes into the film. At that point he’s technically just an animatronic before Glen “ade due dambala”s him and Tiffany back to sentience. Unlike the previous four entries which all focused on Chucky’s relentless desire to inhabit a human body again, Glen’s motivation is finding his identity. First in finding his parents, then in grasping his own sense of self. It’s this choice to shift the central focus off Chucky and to Glen that really allows the exploration of Glen’s many crises, gender-related and not, to be something meaningful rather than a plot contrivance.
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Although Glen is the genital-less offspring of two INFAMOUSLY “anatomically correct” dolls (shoutout to the Bride of Chucky sex scene and the copious amounts of doll sperm in this one), he isn’t automatically deemed nonbinary because of it. It’s actually quite the opposite. It’s actually the catalyst for his gender crisis rather than his solution. Before Glen met with their parents, gender identity was a non-issue. He existed as, quite literally, a puppet for someone else’s projected purpose. His time spent as “Shithead” was marked only by Glen’s desire to find his family.
Literally as soon as Glen provides evidence that he’s the spawn of Chucky and Tiff in the form of his “Made in Japan” “birthmark”, his parents begin to formulate ideas around how to raise their child. They forcibly strip him down and then argue over what his body closely resembles. This is obviously an incredibly traumatizing incident for Glen, sure. But it’s also something actual children have to go through. It is here that Glen loses any autonomy that he gained by running away from his puppet master. He’s collateral in the fight between two parents trying to claim the kid for themselves.
To Tiffany and Chucky, this “blank slate” means both of their first instincts are to project whatever fantasy they had for their child onto Glen without his consent or input. Why consult with the kid when molding them into a preconceived box of what you want is just so much more appealing? This is a struggle I can personally understand.
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Growing up I was expected to conform to the firmly established rules for girls. It always rubbed me the wrong way though I never really had the vocabulary to explain why. Being referred to as a “girl” or “young lady” felt wrong. Yet any time I tried to verbalize this discomfort I was spoken over. It wasn’t my place to figure out my own identity because obviously, the adults around me had a better grasp on it.
As Chucky and Tiffany attempt to bond with Glen, it becomes glaringly obvious that Glen has a difficult time conforming to both their lifestyles. While most of his discomfort lies in the way his parents can casually go on killing sprees like it’s nothing, there’s a subtle bit of unease in the legal activities he’s brought into. They’re always subtly pushing him in one direction or another even if they’re not outright fighting over what his gender is. The topic always seems to breach the surface even when it’s inappropriate.
For example, when Chucky and Glen break into the house of paparazzo Pete Peters (John Waters), Chucky refers to Glen as “his boy” after Glen accidentally melts off Peters’ face with sulphuric acid. Glen expresses discomfort at the fact he accidentally killed a man, but also at the association that doing so made him Chucky’s son. Tiffany is a bit more subtle in her pushing after the initial arguments. She refers to Glenda as Glenda and puts her in more feminine clothing. But she’s never as explicitly forceful as Chucky. Regardless, neither parent asks Glen what he wants and they simply expect him to go along with their hastily laid-out expectations.
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During the climax of the film, Glenda finally snaps. She kills Jennifer Tilly’s assistant Joan, completely renouncing her earlier vow of pacifism. Now, Glenda being the one to snap and kill has some very Psycho-esque undertones that aren’t fantastic as it’s the “feminine side” that performs the violence. However, it’s this switch that allows Glen to finally express his true identity to his parents: the seminal line “sometimes I feel like a boy, sometimes I feel like a girl”.
Finally, after this, Chucky and Tiffany realize that their kid doesn’t fit within the boxes they tried to shove him in. They allow Glen to choose what body he wants to be in after Jennifer Tilly’s voodoo baby is born. While it’s unfortunate that it took Glen’s mental state deteriorating to the point where he committed a felony for his parents to realize they were in the wrong, his “coming out” is well articulated and immediately respected.
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Though Seed of Chucky is an extremely campy horror movie that borders on outright comedy sometimes, Glen expressing his identity is treated with the genuine seriousness and weight it deserves. It’s not played as a joke, it’s not meant to make Glen seem scary or like a freak of nature, and it’s not done as some out-of-the-blue twist. This has been building up for the course of the film and it’s treated with all the seriousness that a child coming out to their parents deserves. Genuinely, Glen’s coming out is such an abrupt tonal shift that I was simultaneously taken aback and moved to tears the first time I watched it. Finally, both his parents respect him, Chucky more so after Glen decapitates him in an act of revenge. He even earns some respect from a dying Jennifer Tilly, which is honestly the best-case scenario for coming out.
Seed of Chucky isn’t a perfect film by any stretch of the imagination—the lack of acknowledgment in the series’ following films proves as much. Glen also isn’t a “perfect” representation because he still leans a little into the “othering” fear as he does accept his new murderous lifestyle change. However, Glen is probably the closest thing to a nonbinary protagonist that the horror genre has seen. He’s front and center for the whole film, his journey to find the words to describe his relationship with gender is a consistent plot point, and when he finally does come out it’s not meant as a scare tactic or as a punchline.
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Glen is an extremely complex character, a luxury many trans-coded horror characters are not afforded, and it shows with the respect his character is given. He’s given the opportunity to label himself in a comfortable manner rather than having someone force him into a box he doesn’t belong in; something shown not as a scary thing but a comforting thing. For all the coded and explicit LGBT representation Don Mancini and the Child’s Play franchise has brought to horror, Glen Lee Ray splitting open the gender binary with a hatchet is certainly a notable addition.
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