Autistic Pleasure: When Pain Feels Good

I recently watched the newest remake of Hellraiser(2022)(dr. David Brucker) and I have to say, I am surprised to be in somewhat of an unpopular camp; I really enjoyed this movie! And although I agree that newer technology's take on some of the hilariously brilliant and grotesque makeup and special effects does take away from some of the original franchise's charm, I still see the Hellraiser wistful lore and candor we all love, just a smidgin in the CGI. I think the remake really adds something to Clive Barker's masterpiece and respectfully plays with the limbs of his past's work, beautifully; I, for one, was obsessed with Jamie Clayton's portrayal of Pinhead as well as every one of those teeth-clanking, fruit-by-the-foot skin piercing, cenobites. Just like the originals, they were the best part, and I found myself anxiously waiting for them to appear again on screen. Feeling the absence of their presence when they weren't; a crush, almost? Maybe. My fascination with Pinhead, the deepened layers of this alter-dimensional hell, and just the fact that people are able to receive anything at all, let alone what the cenobites perceive to be as thoughtful "gifts" from the further regions of experience, couldn't at all be rooted in any real fantastical desire for sensual pain....right?

Pleasure-pain is a script a lot of autistic people can follow. Not only do I relate to the experience of someone "yucking my yum", but it wasn't uncommon for me to feel terrified of someone rejecting, demonizing, or humiliating me based on any real or tactile pleasure I could receive through non-traditional encounters. Not even necessary just for sexual pleasure! Guilt and shame could come falling out of someone's shocked, gaping mouth if a close relative witnessed me gently tugging on the ends of my eyelashes; the hedonistic, soothing release I felt while picking off my mascara was unfathomable to them. And more occurrences come about when friends and family realized I had a treasure trove of these odd and sensual delights tucked away in what I deemed to be pleasurable. Disgust accompanied the sight of me flapping my hands and my head hitting the wall, over and over. The need to have my skin feel tended to and rolled over, loving the way I felt like a stubborn mound of unbaked dough, seemed to be only expectable if experienced with, next to, or by the hands of romance. Yet, my body would have allowed anyone this gracious chance. Seeing my laying down, submissively ready to be rolling-pinned, was something I could joyfully experience and give to everyone, similar to the ways of the cenobites. Their generous gifts of pain are somehow always unappreciated.

Misunderstanding is a living, breathing character in the Hellraiser universe. Places that exist without it, where understanding of one another's wants forcibly appears like the sweat on one's brow, is ironically the same place one could find these exact explorers of pain; BDSM, leather culture, and other examples of sadomasochistic unity, are or can be incredibly understanding and accessible for autistic people. If non-judgmental joy is bound in the foundational sheets, wrapping itself around every and all active players, and all sorts of noises, screams, and anti-traditional actions are prioritized and in fact, celebrated, then sensory-seeking autistic people can thrive. Or perhaps even heal from a past of being simultaneously seen as sexless and fussy agents of pleasure, as well as selfish lovers who only prioritize their own experiences; Sexual scripts, though perhaps rigid roles to the outside world, are fantasies a lot of autistic people already exist in. With fantasies, plays, or power dynamics that worship the sensory experience of everyone can allow autistic people to not only know what to expect in the game, but also empower them to utilize social scripts used against them, turning them on their heads, and finding re-affirmation. Eventually becoming behavior exhibited in daily life.

Something I really enjoy about the newest Hellraiser is that it's not really a movie exploring the wonders of a kinkland, but it's actually a horror about mainstream culture getting a glimpse into what others could find pleasurable; the reckoning of a neurotypical gaze. The same ones either fetishize the quirkiness of one's natural or aesthetic expressions or perhaps go further and de-animate and prop-a-thize a lover without their consent to do so. Or perhaps when gawking for the sake of gawking, where normally observing can be a lot more like learning, and where whispers are filled with non-understanding judgment, can really be like a stink bomb was thrown and exploded into the middle of the group, can't it? That's how I imagine Pinhead and the Cenobites could feel. Picture being summoned to a date with your best torture planned for the evening, your metal chains and hooks all polished and ready to go, only to turn up to find someone who isn't a likeminded glutton for pain, and on top of they try to stop you from linking up with your upcoming sexual deviancy?? diabolical. Sounds like someone was bitter that their eternal pleasures weren't pleasurable and ruining it for everyone.

I have too much fun with the Hellraiser movies, lol.