“Bones and All” probes the gruesomeness of growing up

Little Red Riding Hood discovers what big teeth her grandmother has—to her detriment or delight, depending on the tale. Brian De Palma’s classic horror “Carrie” (1976) opens with its eponymous heroine in the shower, aghast at having her period for the first time. In “Bones and All”, an adaptation of a novel by Camille DeAngelis, Luca Guadagnino, the director of “Call Me By Your Name”, is the latest filmmaker to probe the gruesomeness of growing up.

The film begins with a familiar premise. Young Maren (Taylor Russell) is new to town and tries to make friends in the local high school; a situation already fraught with potential threats. Fickle friendships, emerging sexuality and looming bullies aside, however, it is Maren who poses the strangest danger of all. Being a cannibal, an “eater”, she is driven by an appetite for human flesh. When her father abandons her on her 18th birthday, Maren hits the road, grappling with the violence lurking within her as she searches for the mother she never knew.

Horror films have long presented their viewers with thought experiments, most commonly: what would you do in this situation? Terrified audiences worked out how to avoid the weapon-wielding maniac that stalks teenage get-togethers and summer camps in “The Slumber Party Massacre” (1982) and “Friday the 13th” (1980). The “Saw” movies depicted escape rooms, the characters trapped in an elaborate game orchestrated by a serial killer. “Scream” (1996) mocked how predictable this formula had become. The would-be victims brief each other on the rules of surviving a horror flick: never have sex; do not drink or do drugs; and never say “I’ll be right back”.

The dilemma moved into the realm of relationships in the “Twilight” film series, adapted from Stephanie Meyer’s teen romance books. The saga wove adolescent longing into the vampire film. Bella (Kristen Stewart), a teenage girl, has two love interests. Legions of young fans fantasised about being with Jacob, a werewolf (Taylor Lautner), or succumbing to the haughty vampirism of Edward (Robert Pattinson). The undead is also portrayed as an appealing alternative to puberty in “The Lost Boys” (1987) and “Near Dark” (1987). Instead of bad skin and tremulous voices, these stylish vampires kill with impunity, ooze cool and live at night.

In “Bones and All” Maren faces a more grisly choice. Cannibalism is an intractable part of her identity. She can either embrace being an “eater” or repress it. One involves killing people; the other inflicts emotional damage. She meets Sully (Mark Rylance), an older cannibal who sniffs out the nearly dead and then, like a fastidious fruitarian, waits for the fruit to drop from the tree. Lee (Timothée Chalamet), on the other hand, is a young bisexual hustler who accepts his identity and lures his fast food with the promise of sex. Maren must decide whose modus operandi she prefers.

Yet Sully is a musty hippie with a ratty ponytail. Lee, by contrast, is a sexy cannibal. By blurring the binary of good (Sully) and bad (Lee), the film encourages its young misfit protagonist to eat her fill and forget the moral quandary that torments her. This empathetic view is what makes “Bones and All” so beguilingly original. It is a nihilistic romance that embraces the need to be yourself, regardless of prevailing ethics.

Freud believed that nightmares were fantasies in disguise. In coming-of-age horror films, these subversive teenage reveries can play out. Sissy Spacek’s “Carrie” uses her telekinetic powers to destroy her school prom, an act of vengeance that appeals to anyone who had run-ins with mean girls in their youth. Supernatural stories about vampirism and lycanthropy offer a reprieve from the feelings of powerlessness and isolation that teenagers can struggle with. “Bones and All” gives its innocent yet blood-soaked characters free rein to gorge on their desires, as revolting and forbidden as they may be.