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Review for QUEER TASTES by Cat Voleur

The cover of QUEER TASTES by Cat Voleur, with scenes from movies in different tones of color
Cover of the upcoming QUEER TASTES by Cat Voleur, published by From Beyond Press

In a moment where it feels like the algorithm and AI have ruined our ability to discover

new movies online, Cat Voleur’s Queer Tastes presents a curated, personal history of films that

makes the case for fandom as an exploration of identity. The book is something of a hybrid

memoir, mixing film reviews, queer history, and Voleur’s own journey to understand her

queerness through the lens of cinema. The result is intimate and affectionate – reading the book

feels like meeting a new friend and getting to know them as they gush over the works that have

shaped their worldview.


Each essay dissects a single film, and a reader might read the book in any order – and

might want to if they’re averse to spoilers. I myself skipped around the text, eagerly flipping first

to the chapters featuring my own favorites like Suspiria and Perfect Blue before looping back for

the whole of Voleur’s journey and tastes. Voleur’s arguments for both underseen gems like

Skinamarink and overanalyzed classics like The Silence of the Lambs are fresh enough to

persuade any horror fan to expand their watchlist. Each essay also references other films in

conversation with its subject, making for easy planning of a double feature night, say, Hellraiser

vs. American Mary.


The collection essentially has two timelines. The essays themselves are ordered

chronologically by their subjects’ release dates, ranging from 1940’s Rebecca to 2024’s I Saw

the TV Glow, but between the lines, we get glimpses of the personal and much less linear journey

of Voleur as fan and creator herself. While this chronological ordering helps to show how queer

themes in cinema have grown both more explicit and more niche over time, I can just as easily

imagine an ordering that follows Voleur’s fandom journey more closely. Voleur’s research

shines in the chronology, but her voice is strong enough that a less linear approach might just as

well have served the collection.


To her credit, Voleur is unafraid to approach films with controversial and complicated

histories. Her essays on The Toxic Avenger and The Silence of the Lambs are worthy inclusions

and make a strong argument for how imperfect works of art can still be important and worthy of

appreciation. She also, admirably, sticks to her own tastes. The world probably doesn’t need

another lukewarm take on the inherent queerness of vampires or the transformation metaphor of

werewolves. We’re better off getting her passionate take on queerness and monstrosity in

Possession. Voleur’s picks are singular and add to the strength of her voice.


I may be a bit biased – Huesera was my favorite horror film of 2022, but I found

Voleur’s willingness to use the film as an opportunity to dive deep on the semantics of

pansexuality vs. bisexuality to be one of the strongest moments of the collection. Not only are bi-

and pansexuality often used as a shorthand for establishing that a character is deceitful or

distrustful in cinema, the shifting and often extremely online discourse on these terms can do a

disservice to the people they are meant to represent. Voleur’s interpretation that the film’s

protagonist Valeria genuinely loves her husband Raul and is not merely closeted makes space for

a greater complexity in the narrative. In Voleur’s viewing, Valeria is not a passive victim of

social pressure forcing her into traditional roles – she is an active character who regrets her own

decisions and chooses a new path.


Queer Tastes is, very intentionally, not a comprehensive queer history of horror cinema.

In fact, Voleur is at her best when she dives deep and gets vulnerable about her personal journey

with fandom. In these moments, she provides not just a suggestion of a fun film you might add to

your queue but also a retrospective on how horror fans might use the genre to explore their own

identities. Voleur’s vulnerability is especially compelling when she dissects the very work of

writing her essays, revealing how much research, consideration, and evolution has gone into her


thinking on each film she references. I would recommend this book to queer horror fans who feel

burned out by the online discourse and are looking for the thoughtful recommendations of a

singular voice. Queer Tastes captures the fun of hearing someone’s passionate argument for a

movie you might otherwise have skipped.


Reserve your copy for the June 23rd, 2026 release here!

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