Layla Zulfa
In an era where streaming platforms are constantly scouring the literary world for the "next big thing," actress and producer Lili Reinhart—best known for her iconic portrayal of Betty Cooper in The CW’s Riverdale and her turn in the romantic comedy The Love Hypothesis—has set her sights on a surprisingly gothic and genre-bending project. During a recent candid appearance on Hits Radio, Reinhart revealed her ambition to spearhead an adaptation of a lesbian vampire novella, lamenting that the industry remains surprisingly hesitant to greenlight such stories despite their immense popularity.
"People are too afraid to make that," Reinhart remarked during the broadcast. "If you work at a studio and are watching this video, I don’t know why you wouldn’t make that in this day and age. That’s what I’m trying to do."
Her comments have sent a shockwave through the book-to-screen community, sparking a feverish debate among genre enthusiasts and industry insiders alike regarding which specific title has captured the attention of one of Hollywood’s most bankable young stars.
A Chronology of a Cult Phenomenon
The "lesbian vampire" subgenre, often categorized under the broader umbrella of Gothic horror and queer romance, has a storied history that predates modern cinema. Its roots are firmly planted in the 19th century, arguably beginning with J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s 1871 novella, Carmilla. This seminal work predates Bram Stoker’s Dracula by 26 years and is widely credited with establishing the tropes of the vampire mythos—specifically the seductive, predatory, and often melancholic nature of the undead.
For decades, these stories were relegated to the margins, appearing in underground literature or niche independent films. However, the 2010s and early 2020s saw a massive resurgence in interest. The rise of digital publishing, BookTok, and a more robust demand for queer representation in media transformed these once-niche tales into best-sellers.
When Reinhart dropped her hint, the literary community didn’t just speculate; they mobilized. The timeline of the "lesbian vampire renaissance" looks like this:
- 1871: The publication of Carmilla, the foundational text of the genre.
- 2018: The release of S.D. Simper’s Carmilla and Laura, a contemporary reimagining that brought Victorian gothic themes into a modern reader’s focus.
- 2020: The debut of Just My Type by Lucy Bexley and Bryce Oakley, which added a comedic, workplace-romance flair to the genre.
- 2021: The publication of S.T. Gibson’s A Dowry of Blood, which elevated the prose and thematic depth of the genre to new heights.
- 2025 (Forthcoming): Kat Dunn’s Hungerstone, signaling that the appetite for these stories is showing no signs of slowing down.
Decoding the Source: The Fan Favorites
The mystery of which book Reinhart is eyeing has led to a "Tier List" of candidates, compiled by fans and literary analysts.
The Gothic Classic: Carmilla
If Reinhart is looking for a project with historical prestige, Carmilla is the obvious choice. Its influence on pop culture is immeasurable. Adapting this would allow for a prestige-television treatment, potentially in the vein of recent A24-style horror aesthetics.
The Modern Rom-Com: Just My Type
For a lighter, more approachable adaptation, many point to Just My Type. The premise—a 2,000-year-old vampire finding love with a doctor in a high-tech hematology lab—is tailor-made for a feature-length film or a limited series. It balances the supernatural with the mundane in a way that modern audiences find highly relatable.
The Epic Retellings: A Dowry of Blood and Hungerstone
S.T. Gibson’s A Dowry of Blood has become a titan in the genre. Its focus on the character of Constanta offers a complex, character-driven narrative that would appeal to the prestige-drama sensibilities Reinhart has demonstrated in her previous work. Similarly, Hungerstone by Kat Dunn, while a longer read, promises the kind of sweeping, atmospheric scale that studios love for international distribution.
The Industrial Stigma: Why Are Studios "Afraid"?
Reinhart’s assertion that studios are "too afraid" to make these films points to a deeper, more systemic issue in Hollywood: the "Queer Horror Gap."
Despite the overwhelming success of queer-led projects like Portrait of a Lady on Fire or even mainstream horror crossovers like Jennifer’s Body, executives frequently express apprehension about the commercial viability of LGBTQ+ genre films. This stems from a outdated—and now statistically disproven—belief that such films do not perform well in international markets or that they lack "four-quadrant" appeal.
However, data suggests otherwise. According to industry tracking firms, queer-coded content, particularly in the horror and fantasy sectors, has some of the highest engagement rates on social media. Fans of these genres are highly vocal, organized, and dedicated to supporting adaptations of their favorite source material.
Reinhart’s intervention serves as a challenge to the "risk-averse" model of development. By leveraging her status as an established producer, she is attempting to bridge the gap between niche literary communities and high-budget studio backing.
Implications for Future Casting and Development
If Lili Reinhart succeeds in securing the rights to one of these titles, the implications for the industry are significant.
1. The Rise of the "Producer-Actress"
Reinhart is moving firmly into the mold of actresses like Margot Robbie or Reese Witherspoon—talent who use their leverage to greenlight projects that might otherwise be overlooked. This signals a shift toward creative control for women in their late 20s and early 30s who are looking to move beyond "leading lady" roles and into the executive suite.
2. A Shift in Genre Standards
Should a high-profile, big-budget lesbian vampire film reach theaters, it would effectively move the genre out of the "cult classic" category and into the "mainstream blockbuster" category. This would likely trigger a gold rush of similar adaptations, much like the explosion of vampire romance following the success of the Twilight franchise.
3. Strengthening Queer Narratives
The most vital implication is the mainstreaming of queer joy and, in the case of horror, queer empowerment. Vampire stories have long functioned as metaphors for the "other"—the outsider looking in, the hidden life, and the struggle for survival. A well-produced, high-budget film would provide a platform for these narratives to reach a global audience, normalizing queer relationships as the centerpiece of epic storytelling rather than as a secondary subplot.
A Season for the Shadows
As we navigate through the month of October, the appetite for dark, atmospheric storytelling reaches its annual peak. While we wait for an official announcement from Reinhart’s production company regarding which novella she has chosen, the discourse has already achieved its primary goal: it has reminded studios that the audience is here, the stories are waiting, and the demand for inclusive, high-quality horror is stronger than ever.
Whether she chooses the Victorian elegance of Carmilla, the modern wit of Just My Type, or the lyrical darkness of A Dowry of Blood, one thing is certain: the industry would be wise to heed the advice of a producer who clearly understands what the current generation of viewers wants.
For now, fans are encouraged to keep their reading lists updated and their eyes on the horizon. The vampire is, by definition, a creature that thrives on longevity and transformation. It seems fitting that the genre itself is currently undergoing both. As Reinhart continues to navigate the complex corridors of Hollywood, she isn’t just looking for a script; she is looking to sink her teeth into the future of cinema.
Nana Wu
Ali Ikhwan
