I'm a gold star member of the Aunt Gladys fan club

(this is full of spoilers if you haven't seen Weapons yet, which you absolutely should)

You've probably had enough of people gushing over Weapons, and that's too goddamn bad because here's some more. Overlooked in favor of its acting, pacing, and gallows sense of humor is the fact that it had the best promotional campaign since last year's Longlegs. Like Longlegs (and, indeed, like Zach Cregger's earlier film Barbarian), it was impossible to tell what exactly it was about, other than it had something to do with missing children. It gave no hint about how funny it would be at times, or its non-linear plotting. Most importantly, it concealed its villain, who doesn't even show up until halfway through the movie itself.

That, of course, is Aunt Gladys (an unrecognizable Amy Madigan), a fairytale witch who wreaks havoc on a small Pennsylvania town. Similar to Longlegs' antagonist, our first reaction to the clownish-looking Aunt Gladys is laughter. With her bad wig, oversized glasses, and polyester-blend clothes, she looks like a character from The Carol Burnett Show. Such a daffy old lady couldn't possibly be a threat to anyone, until, with cold methodicalness, she's casting a spell to force someone to head-butt his husband to death.

Unsurprisingly, Aunt Gladys quickly became a meme, and a beloved new horror icon. My "For You" page on TikTok, which just a few months ago featured mostly clips of people Irish step dancing to "Rocky Road to Dublin," now features mostly Aunt Gladys fan edits. Thrift stores will see their supplies of garishly-colored tracksuits dwindle in the weeks leading up to Halloween. America has spoken, and it said, "We like the old Cracker Barrel logo better." But it also said, "We love Aunt Gladys."

Well, most of us. As with 2022's X and last year's The Substance, Weapons has raised some complaints about it engaging in hagsploitation, the idea that there's nothing more repellent, more nightmarish, than an aging woman. Hagsploitation, despite its knowingly camp leanings, has often been criticized for being misogynistic, particularly since there's no equivalent for male characters. The closest we get is maybe Grandpa in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, and he's so close to death that he has to be propped up and forced to participate in the tormenting of Sally Hardesty.

To bring up Longlegs again, even though he's played by Nicolas Cage, with his long hair, weird high-pitched voice, botched plastic surgery, and unisex clothes, he reads as effete, a failed, out-of-time glam rocker. The film plays around with the idea of hagsploitation, challenging the audience to ask themselves if Longlegs is creepy specifically because he looks and sounds like an ugly old woman. Do I think that Oz Perkins thinks old women are scary and gross? Not necessarily, but I think he knows that a lot of other people do, and was content to let them sit in their shame and discomfort over it.

While I won't speak for anyone else, let me just say that, as a 53-year-old woman, a withered crone by cultural standards, I fucking love hagsploitation.

As far as aging woman representation, I find Aunt Gladys far more entertaining than, say, Diane Keaton fretting over dinner party seating arrangements in Nancy Meyers' latest advertisement for kitchen remodeling. I'm not saying I aspire to kidnap children and sap their life force to keep me alive, but I am saying that I enjoy that the concept of that scares people even more than a masked killer in the woods. I like that we're repulsed at the idea of old women refusing to quietly shrivel away in a corner somewhere, unnoticed by anyone.

Hagsploitation is brilliant because it reflects and distorts our own fears and prejudices about aging. Pop culture didn't make older women repellent, we did. From a shockingly early age, we're encouraged to stave off the signs of aging for as long as possible, even if it means injecting toxins and microplastics into our faces. The Kardashians are selling what looks like a panty one wears around their head to keep their face as smooth as a baby's ass, and we're criticizing how the movies make being old look?

Because of our general disgust at aging female bodies, we can't even bring ourselves to talk openly about menopause, even though it would spare women a lot of fear and embarrassment. No other age group elicits stronger opinions on our clothes, if we should use makeup and how much, and what to do with our hair. We're expected to maintain a gossamer-thin line between looking too young (because gross) and looking too old (also gross). No long hair, no gray hair (but no fun colors either), do something about those lines and wrinkles but not so much that it's obvious to everyone. Above all else, don't draw attention to yourself. You've had your time, Grandma, now move over.

You want to punch up your comedy with a cheap joke? Add in a woman over 50 who still wants and enjoys sex, which is almost always coded as a little pathetic (who would want to stick it in that dusty old thing, after all), if not downright offensive. If you spend some time in the online "manosphere" (and I strongly recommend that you do not), you'll see that the age when men believe women reach their "prime" (i.e. when they're at their most fuckable) has dropped over time, from their early 30s to around 25 down to 18. As a reminder, a lot of 18 year-old girls are still in high school. But, you know, biology and all that.

The current Vice President of the United States believes that once women reach a "certain age" (I'm guessing by his estimation around 45) or so, their only value is to provide childcare for other women. So, no, in a culture where I'm constantly reminded that I have no worth, no appeal, and no place, and that for the good of everyone else I should just fade into the wallpaper, I'm not offended by a movie with a scary old lady in it. I love it. I'm leaning into it. I wouldn't mind people being scared of me. It's certainly better than their pity.