(2016)
Dir- Joel Potrykus
Stylistically bordering on mumblecore, Joel Potrykus' The Alchemist Cookbook is a singular work for such subject material. Consisting of only a two person cast with large portions of it only following the increasingly eccentric behavior of Ty Hickson playing a disturbed recluse living a mysterious and isolated existence in the middle of the woods, Potrykus builds a steady aura of dread through various mundane scenes. The dialog is mostly improvised, the camera exclusively handheld, no incidental music is used, (though an eccentric barrage of classical, punk, and hip hop songs are played), and it has an intimate, fly on the wall feel. As the director's primary shtick is black comedy, he incorporates some hilarious moments as well, which mostly revolve around Hickson and Amari Cheatom's interactions. A sinister and odd underbelly is always present though and by the third act, things cross right over into bone-chilling territory. Through it all, Potrykus keeps the narrative vague as it is first and foremost a psychological study of mental illness, with the lines of reality being blurred so that the viewer may interpret them in any way that they wish.
Dir - Harry Kümel
A quintessential, erotic lesbian vampire film, Daughters of Darkness also stands as one of the most beautiful genre movies ever produced. Shot on location during the off-season in two hotels in Belgium, the sprawling, glamorous setting creates a wonderful aura of bourgeois isolation which is benefited by lush cinematography and stylized visuals. Premier Lebanese actress Delphine Seyrig is dressed in alluring costumes which are exclusively based in black, red, and white; Nazi and therefor evil colors. Yet Seyrig plays this particular version of Countess Elizabeth Báthory as a perpetually smiling enchantress, floating like a ballerina throughout all of her scenes. Her manipulation of the newlyweds John Karlen and Danielle Ouime is made possible in part due to the man's burgeoning sadism. Plus by playing the couple against each other, themes of female complacency, (servitude), towards their controlling male partners is also addressed. Even without the symbolism, the largely bloodless, largely naked, and subdued approach to the materiel is marvelous to behold.
(2016)
Dir - Liam Gavin
One of a handful of fantastic horror debuts to emerge within the last decade, Liam Gavin's A Dark Song could stand as the most sincere depiction of occult magic ever filmed. Taking a respectable and sophisticated look at the conjuring of vengeance though complicated and ancient black arts, Gavin crafted something intricate and disturbing. Though if the movie was nothing more than religiously arcane mysticism window dressing than it would have only a fraction of its impact. The plight of a traumatized mother who commits herself to such dangerous incantations is made believable as more and more layers are unveiled as to her consuming grief. The dynamic between her and the aggressively confrontational wizard for hire, (Catherine Walker and Steve Oram, respectfully), is dysfunctional yet grounded, as they invoke forces which exhaustively try to break them. The movie is profound in its intent, beautifully photographed and performed, and gradually climaxes in a way that few works of its kind ever manage to do.
(1981)
Dir - John Landis
A bar was permanently set with An American Werewolf in London; by all accounts the best movie ever made where a man transforms into a lycanthropian beast. Equal parts throwback love letter to classic wolfman tropes as well as a more realistic and contemporary take on such material, writer/director John Landis also fused his innate knack for humor into the mix. Written over ten years before it was finally made, (at which point Landis had done a small handful of profitable, now iconic comedies), it was a bold and fantastic bit of filmmaking where lightning thankfully struck. The then lesser known cast is wonderful, the tongue-in-cheek use of famous pop songs with the word "moon" in them is a hoot, it is laugh out loud funny at times, and of course Rick Baker's ground-breaking practical special effects are easily the most impressive there is. The full-fledged werewolf is actually only shown in quick cuts, allowing Landis to both take advantage of the less is more approach while indulging in both gore and the be-all-end-all transformation scene.
(1968)
Dir - Terence Fisher
The first of famed occult horror writer Dennis Wheatley's novels to be adapted by Hammer, The Devil Rides Out also stands as the strongest of the studio's horror films. Christopher Lee, (who was friends with Wheatley), pushed for the film being made and was ultimately cast as Duke de Richleau who appeared in eleven of the author's novels. Lee is in splendid form as usual, playing a heroic occult practitioner against Charles Gray's sinister, Angel of Death-summoning warlock Mocata. Prolific A-list horror author Richard Matheson was also brought on to pen the screenplay, streamlining Wheatley's novel while simultaneously remaining faithful to it. Full of numerous Satanic set pieces and adhering to a deadly serious tone, this is another masterwork for Terence Fisher behind the lens. Few Hammer films are genuinely chilling, yet this one has tense, creepy atmosphere in spades and though the quality is as steadfast as ever, it stands as one of Hammer's most unique movies due to its non-Gothic setting and aristocratically wicked subject matter.
(1961)
Dir - Jack Clayton
Along with Robert Wise's The Haunting, the other textbook psychological haunted mansion film is Jack Clayton's The Innocents. The first cinematic adaptation of Henry James' novel The Turn of the Screw, it is meticulously photographed by Freddie Francis, edited by Jim Clark, and directed by Clayton, creating a unique atmosphere for its time. Subtle, electronic sound effects by Daphne Oram were added to the sombre score and much of the movie plays to an eerie lack of orchestral accompaniment, including the opening and closing title sequences. Truman Capote was brought in along with John Mortimer to tweak the dialog from William Archibald's initial script, though the repressed sexual undertones of Deborah Kerr's governess Miss Giddens are implied instead of directly stated. Speaking of implied, few other horror films suggest more than they show in such a persistent manner, to the point where the story's ambiguity is more chilling than any definitively stated supernatural occurrences could ever be.
(1977)
Dir - David Lynch
On the Mt. Rushmore of midnight movies, David Lynch's seminal debut Eraserhead, (like all of the filmmaker's work), defies genre classification, yet it adheres to a type of quirky horror aesthetic like nothing else. Made over the course of five years as the production regularly ran out of money, it was partially financed by and shot in AFI's Greystone Mansion, as well as unused stables that Lynch was living in at the time. A DIY work in this respect with no commercial attributes to be found in any frame, Lynch's fully-formed vision is startling, maddening, disturbed, and hilarious all at once. Repeated watches reveal more clues as to what is going on in the symbolism that is lurking in laughably bizarre set pieces one after the other, but this is a cult film in the truest sense, one that not only demands but encourages continued immersion on the part of the audience. This may have the finest sound design in any film, one that was labored over by Lynch and Alan Splet, which creates an ambience of factory noise and machine humming where Jack Nance's title character is just trying to enjoy his vacation when his girlfriend gives birth to a monstrosity that both psychologically consumes him and explodes the viewer's brains in experiencing it.
(1955)
Dir - Henri-Georges Clouzot
Along with The Wages of Fear, Les Diaboliques would be the most renowned film in Henri-Georges Clouzot's filmography and rightfully so. The director allegedly optioned for the rights to Boileau-Narcejac's 1952 novel She Who Was No More before Alfred Hitchcock could get his hands on it, which is fitting in the fact that his resulting work here was noticeably akin to the latter's work and would ultimately even prove influential for Hitchcock. There is no musical score and at least two thirds of the movie is a flawlessly tightening suspense game that eventually reaches one of the most memorably hair-raising climaxes imaginable. A masterpiece of calculated tension building and featuring a particularly superb and terrified performance from Clouzot's then wife Véra, it is a psychological thriller with few if any equals.
(1961)
Dir - Jerzy Kawalerowicz
A somber and introspective precursor to the nunsploitation sub-genre and based off of the 17th century Loudun possessions which also inspired Ken Russell's The Devils ten years later, Mother Joan of the Angels explores the aftermath of the priest Urbain Grandier's execution by instead focusing on Father Joseph Suryn who rids the title nun of her evils through self-sacrifice. The tone here could not be farther removed from Russell's comically bombastic version and it is also far removed from conventional horror cinema in general. Polish filmmaker Jerzy Kawalerowicz's take on it is calculated and subdued, as if the humbled set design, minimal speaking cast, and lack of musical score mirrors the character's inner struggles of pride and humility. The line is blurred between them to the point where sainthood seems interchangeable with being damned in a bygone and superstitious era, all of which still speaks to the human nature of inner turmoil.
(1975)
Dir - Jean Rollin
A textbook example of French filmmaker Jean Rollin's no budget arthouse style, Lips of Blood elevates what was already becoming a rich and auteuristic body of work. Once again featuring haunting and lovely naked female vampires, châteaus that look as if they have been abandoned for centuries, a largely unimpenetrable plot, and patiently lingering shots, the story, (which was co-written by lead actor Jean-Loup Phillippe), is beautiful in its sentimental poetry. Essentially a film about recapturing and embracing one's innocence from childhood, it expresses such notions by shooting anything in modern buildings with flat and less-expressive lighting, while all of the ancient landscapes are atmospheric and deliberately more alluring. Rollin was very much a maverick in his field as even when he was tasked with making a nudie genre movie on the cheap, he gave himself over to ethereal aesthetics where dreams, beauty, and a little blood and boobs wonderfully co-mingled with each other.
(2005)
Dir - Kōji Shiraishi
Easily one of the best found footage movies ever made and certainly the finest to come out of Japan is Kōji Shiraishi's Noroi: The Curse. Shiraishi has made the pseudo-documentary style horror film his stock and trade and this rightfully remains his most accomplished and well-respected. Found footage is inherently tricky to pull off and when it is presented in a "movie within a movie" framework, such trickiness is elevated tenfold. This example uses its gimmick convincingly with an intricate story line and genuinely frightening details every step of the way. Shiraishi somehow weaves together a ghost hunter, an aluminum-wearing psychic, a clairvoyant child, and a sixth-sense-having actor, all with a demonic ritual involving dogs, pigeons, monkeys, aborted fetuses, drawings, masks, loops, and ectoplasmic worms. What sounds ridiculous on paper, (and is), miraculously comes off as as an ambitious nightmare that is as fun as it is freaky.
(1931)
Dir - Rouben Mamoulian
Still the best cinematic interpretation of Robert Louis Steveneson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde nearly a centuryafter it was made, (as well as one of the big three pre-Code horror films from 1931 and the only one not be be released by Universal), Paramount's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde set many templates that later adaptations would follow. Here, Hyde is given a look directly inspired by Neanderthal man, which is pulled off marvelously by makeup artist Wally Westmore with the use of camera filters to showcase the transformation in real time. Fredric March handles the title roles with a gusto, laying on the melodrama as Jekyll and portraying Hyde at first like a childish bully, only to increasingly morph into an ape-like psychopath whose deeds become all the more horrendous. On that note, the addition of the prostitute character Ivy Pierson not only offers up a prominent level of sexuality to the proceedings, yet she also fulfills most of the role of Hyde's aforementioned scorn, and brutally so.
38. THE BIRDS
(1963)
Dir - Alfred Hitchcock
Perhaps the most technically ambitious of Alfred Hitchcock's works and the only one to be a bonafide horror movie, The Birds was as influential as his previous masterpiece Psycho in several ways. Merely borrowing the title and bare bones premise from Daphne du Maurier's novella, the story makes the mundane terrifying, but it is of course Hitchcock's gimmick-esque approach that elevates the material. There is no explanation given as to the title animal's completely unexpected bursts of organized violence, which makes the character's own tribulations seem wholly insignificant in comparison. The sound design is minimalist and chilling, with no incidental score utilized whatsoever. This creates an uncomfortable and slow-mounting tension throughout that in Hitchcock's hands, (who is rightfully recognized as the be-all-end-all master of such things), culminates in something that is as much if not more nerve-wracking than if he once again had a full-blown, Bernard Herrmann musical accompaniment to work with.
37. THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE
(1974)
Dir - Tobe Hooper
One of the seminal independent horror films to emerge from the American New Wave, Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre still ranks as a viscerally impactful experience with few others on par with it. Shot on location under brutal conditions and with limited funds, the movie's inherent grittiness comes through in every frame. None of the cast members were known at the time and none of them would become household names afterwards. That with the improvised dialog and primitive camera work on 16mm film all gives it a guerilla-style, documentary feel that is nothing like even the most D-rent slasher movies which would endlessly spawn from it. Though it horrifically escalates to the point of pre-torture porn, Hooper shied away from any overt gore, largely letting the cacophony of screams and anti-melodic score provide a relentless and disturbed atmosphere. Whether deliberate or not, the movie also served as a direct critique on crippling American values during the era of Vietnam and Watergate, presenting a living nightmare on US soil where chaotic barbarism runs rampant in a remote, dilapidated, and bone/skin/filth-covered location.
Dir - Rouben Mamoulian
Still the best cinematic interpretation of Robert Louis Steveneson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde nearly a centuryafter it was made, (as well as one of the big three pre-Code horror films from 1931 and the only one not be be released by Universal), Paramount's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde set many templates that later adaptations would follow. Here, Hyde is given a look directly inspired by Neanderthal man, which is pulled off marvelously by makeup artist Wally Westmore with the use of camera filters to showcase the transformation in real time. Fredric March handles the title roles with a gusto, laying on the melodrama as Jekyll and portraying Hyde at first like a childish bully, only to increasingly morph into an ape-like psychopath whose deeds become all the more horrendous. On that note, the addition of the prostitute character Ivy Pierson not only offers up a prominent level of sexuality to the proceedings, yet she also fulfills most of the role of Hyde's aforementioned scorn, and brutally so.
(1963)
Dir - Alfred Hitchcock
Perhaps the most technically ambitious of Alfred Hitchcock's works and the only one to be a bonafide horror movie, The Birds was as influential as his previous masterpiece Psycho in several ways. Merely borrowing the title and bare bones premise from Daphne du Maurier's novella, the story makes the mundane terrifying, but it is of course Hitchcock's gimmick-esque approach that elevates the material. There is no explanation given as to the title animal's completely unexpected bursts of organized violence, which makes the character's own tribulations seem wholly insignificant in comparison. The sound design is minimalist and chilling, with no incidental score utilized whatsoever. This creates an uncomfortable and slow-mounting tension throughout that in Hitchcock's hands, (who is rightfully recognized as the be-all-end-all master of such things), culminates in something that is as much if not more nerve-wracking than if he once again had a full-blown, Bernard Herrmann musical accompaniment to work with.
(1974)
Dir - Tobe Hooper
One of the seminal independent horror films to emerge from the American New Wave, Tobe Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre still ranks as a viscerally impactful experience with few others on par with it. Shot on location under brutal conditions and with limited funds, the movie's inherent grittiness comes through in every frame. None of the cast members were known at the time and none of them would become household names afterwards. That with the improvised dialog and primitive camera work on 16mm film all gives it a guerilla-style, documentary feel that is nothing like even the most D-rent slasher movies which would endlessly spawn from it. Though it horrifically escalates to the point of pre-torture porn, Hooper shied away from any overt gore, largely letting the cacophony of screams and anti-melodic score provide a relentless and disturbed atmosphere. Whether deliberate or not, the movie also served as a direct critique on crippling American values during the era of Vietnam and Watergate, presenting a living nightmare on US soil where chaotic barbarism runs rampant in a remote, dilapidated, and bone/skin/filth-covered location.
(1962)
Dir - Herk Harvey
Predating Night of the Living Dead by six years, Carnival of Souls was another ultra-cheap, independently made, regional horror film done outside of the confines of Hollywood. In addition to its unconventional birth, it remains one of the most wonderfully unique movies of its kind. Akin to a full-length Twilight Zone episode, it has various motifs that would be used several times over by many filmmakers. Focusing on an aloof, non-religious, and introverted church organist who seems to be running away from an ever-present aura of doom, she is pursued by both a sleazy neighbor and "The Man"; a garish, perpetually smiling, and creepy supernatural entity played by the movie's director Herk Harvey. The entire film blurs the lines of the tangible and metaphysical in true psychological horror fashion. Furthermore, some of the technical shortcomings elevate the movie's oddness, while at other times, Harvey and his local crew, (who were well-learned in making industrial and education films for the Lawrence, Kansas Centron Corporation), create a spell-binding mood, with gorgeous, spectral cinematography.
(1986)
Dir - David Cronenberg
Another outstanding and wildly superior horror remake from the 1980s was David Cronenberg's The Fly. The director was the first choice for the project from producer Stuart Cornfeld and completely re-wrote Charles Edward Pogue's initial script that was more faithful to the original short story by George Langelaan, which the 1958 film was also based on. All of Cronenberg's changes proved to be memorable though and Jeff Goldblum's gradual instead of immediate metamorphosis into the title creature became the stuff of legendary movie making. The make-up and practical effects by Chris Walas are as fantastic and nasty as any that has yet been seen, plus Goldblum delivers what can fairly be considered the performance of his career. Geena Davis is likewise in top form as his emotionally traumatized love interest who helplessly watches him go from eccentric though kind scientist, to arrogantly aggressive superhuman, to grotesquely deformed abomination.
(2017)
Dir - Luca Guadagnino
What should have been a disaster in remaking Dario Argento's outlandish and stylized masterpiece Suspiria miraculously turned into a rich, thematic, vibrant, and ambitious work of its own. Under the guidance of filmmaker Luca Guadagnino, divergent decisions were taken to keep it singular from the original as this barely even keeps that movie's premise, elaborating tenfold on a complex series of concepts such as motherhood, rebirth, guilt, nationalism, and the corruption of power. The fact that the cast is almost exclusively female allows for the viewer to further interpret women's roles in such themes. On that note, Tilda Swinton delivers one of the most outstanding screen performances in recent memory, transforming into three characters and unrecognizably so in two of them. Thom Yorke's soundtrack wisely goes in a different direction from that in Argento's version, being more ethereal and tranquil than a single note in the original, excellent, and over-the-top Goblin score was. The hypnotic, rhythmical, and occasionally, (highly), grotesque language of the film in general is conceptually perfect and for anyone who automatically dismisses contemporary remakes, Guadagnino sure showed us how its done.
(1971)
Dir - Robert Fuest
At the turn of the 1970s, Vincent Price delivered arguably his two most tailor-made performances. The first and most widely beloved was that as the title character in The Abominable Dr. Phibes, followed by a sequel and then two years later, the similar yet even more outrageous Theatre of Blood. The macabre humor is practically saturating the screen here, as Price plays a zombie-fied musical genius, talking though a microphone chord in his neck while he murders the nine doctors and one nurse that he blames for murdering his wife, all according to the ten plagues of Egypt because everyone needs a gimmick. It is a hoot alone on paper, but the movie itself is a masterpiece of dark camp with its art deco styled sets, ghastly violence, wonderful makeup effects, inventive kill sequences, and Price's pitch-perfect, tongue in cheek performance. This probably ranks as the actor's most iconic screen villain out of many and seeing him dance a waltz with his lovely mute henchwoman while his weird mechanical band plays and the body count piles up is simply the stuff of dark comedy horror legend.
(1981)
Dir - Andrzej Żuławski
The final work in the horror genre from Polish filmmaker Andrzej Żuławski was the exemplary arthouse masterpiece Possession. Possibly the strangest and most disturbed movie ever about divorce, (one-upping David Cronenberg's The Brood from two years prior), it paints a traumatic picture where a couple's jealousy and inability to cope with guilt and betray literally manifests in the monstrous creation of an ideal mate. Well, that is at least one way to interpret it, because Żuławski was not one to spell things out in rudimentary detail. Both Sam Neil and especially Isabelle Adjani commit hard to their fanatical performances; the latter most famously in a three minute subway breakdown that has gone down as one of the most memorable bouts of hysteria ever captured on film. Similar to other challenging works of such an aggressive nature, it is bound to confuse as much as enthrall its audience, making multiple viewings willfully necessary.
(2014)
Dir - Ana Lily Amirpour
On paper, Ana Lily Amirpour's A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night is as singular of an independent horror film as has ever been made. The result of an abundance of inspirations, it has traces of David Lynch, Jim Jarmusch, and spaghetti Westerns, which are all skewed through a hipster aesthetic that seems as if it exists outside of any complete landscape. Shot in anamorphic black and white and taking place in a fictional, Iranian, quasi-ghost town that is overrun with oil rigs, the minimal dialog is entirely in Persian and most of the outstanding soundtrack is a hodgepodge of international and American artists. One can easily get caught up in the intoxicating style that Amirpour maintains, but even more amazing is how she manages to create beauty out of ugliness, isolation, and trauma. There are only a small handful of characters making up the movie's environment and most are either drug dealers, pimps, junkies, or prostitutes. Yet a heartwarming sense of connection and escape hangs heavy over everything, where flawed people and creatures are ultimately seizing an uplifting opportunity when it emerges.
(1990)
Dir - Adrian Lyne
Examining a type of meditative spirituality rarely found in studio released horror films, Jacob's Ladder presents a terrifying world where those who are traumatized by earthly bounds are destined to dwell in purgatory. Upon first viewing, director Adrian Lyne and screenwriter Bruce Joel Rubin's work here is bound to perplex, but there is less ambiguity than what appears, mirroring the plot where the harrowing events of the title character's life can be perceived in various ways. Tim Robbins turns in arguably his finest performance as a Vietnam vet who is increasingly plagued by remorse and psychological anguish, only growing more unhinged as he bounces between different timelines at a moment's notice. Full of nightmarish and head-trippy set pieces, it is a heavy watch that leads to a heavy conclusion, but the journey is profound, disturbing, and powerful all the same.
(1979)
Dir - Ridley Scott
The quintessential haunted house, kind-of-slasher movie in space, Alien maintains a rightfully lauded reputation for its overall flawless production values. Initially written by Dan 'O Bannon and Ronald Shusett as an intense A-level monster film, this was a rare case where all parties involved sank the time, money, and talent into something with both an artistic and commercial payoff. Even though it was only his second feature, director Ridley Scott maintains a type of less-is-more tension and control over the proceedings that most filmmaking veterans should be envious of. He, cinematographer Derek Vanlint, and H.R. Giger's iconic design work make almost every single shot look like a gorgeously detailed painting. Numerous moments of nearly comical tension are broken by inevitable jump scares and even though the title alien is shown sparingly, every second of its screen time is maximized for memorable effect. Of course the film also launched Sigourney Weaver's career, though her role in the Alien verse would be expanded upon much more in future installments.
28. THE RETURN OF THE LIVING DEAD
(1985)
Dir - Dan O'Bannon
Doubling as a comedy horror masterpiece as well as a trend-setting zombie film, The Return of the Living Dead hits all of the right loud and bloody notes. As part of their post Night of the Living Dead agreement, co-producer John A. Russo retained the rights to do his own spin-off that was tonally a different beast from George A. Romero's. The resulting film here was screenwriter Dan O'Bannon's first crack behind the lens after Tobe Hooper dropped out and the pacing never stumbles as one hilarious scene proceeds the next. This was the movie that introduced the clever, running, talking, and brain-eating reanimated corpses that are both indestructible by conventional means and totally relentless. As opposed to just having characters that argue with each other in a state of crisis, the cast delivers more purposely exaggerated performances that heighten the punk rock mayhem tone. Also, Linnea Quigley's spontaneous cemetery strip tease is easily the greatest nude scene in movie history, if we are to be so honest.
27. THE MUMMY
(1932)
Dir - Karl Freund
Following up the phenomenal success of Universal's Dracula and Frankenstein, The Mummy was essentially an Egyptian reworking of the former with its renowned cinematographer Karl Freund getting behind the lens this time. Of course it also features one of the most legendary performances from Boris Karloff who even though he appears as the fully-wrapped title character for but a single excellently creepy scene, he still delivers the chills throughout the rest of the movie as the resurrected sorcerer with the glowing eyes Ardeth Bey. Utilizing incidental music minimally, it therefor still largely maintains the type of intimate tone that its predecessor monster movies did. Also the script by Dracula screenwriter John L. Balderston further emphasizes the reincarnated "lost love" trope. More chilling than overtly romantic and even with its retreaded qualities in tow, it rightfully stands as one the studio's most seminal works in the genre.
26. INVASION OF THE BODY SNATCHERS
(1978)
Dir - Philip Kaufman
A go-to and rare example of a remake surpassing an already renowned original, the second cinematic version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers from director Philip Kaufman takes a more horrific approach to the material while still emphasizing a suspenseful sense of paranoia. W.D. Richter's script adheres to Jack Finney's The Body Snatchers novel just as the 1956 version did and it keeps the same plot structure as well as many of the same set pieces. Yet the setting switches to a hip, progressive San Francisco and offers up another layer of such a diverse and forward-moving city becoming the first victim of an identity/passion-stealing alien takeover. Released in an age of disillusionment with the "Me" generation, the cold and frightening outcome here hits that much harder and Kaufman, the top-notch cast, and excellent practical effects help give the film a commendable amount of creepy and gasp-worthy moments.
25. HEREDITARY
(2018)
Dir - Ari Aster
Writer/director Ari Aster's ambitious cinematic voice came fully-formed on his extraordinary debut Hereditary. The AFI graduate had made two horror shorts before, but the amount of detail both in the heavily researched script and visual design is impressive enough, let alone how much emotional resonance is maintained. The latter component is the most important, as the film's terrifying impact rests on the meticulously weighty shoulders of the traumatized and cursed family at the center of everything. Everyone here gives flawless performances, with Toni Collette and Alex Wolff particularly standing out as two people who have become ravished with emotional upheaval. As a horror movie, Aster stages some of the most actually scary moments the genre has ever seen, utilizing avant-garde saxophonist Colin Stetson's score in conjunction with no music at all to create nightmarish tension that makes the work of other horror filmmakers seem hackneyed at best. This is a triumph from to top bottom and one of the few in recent times to truly elevate the bar.
24. ROSEMARY'S BABY
(1968)
Dir - Roman Polanski
Rosemary's Baby is considered to be the one major Hollywood film that kickstarted the occult craze in cinema and it remains possibly the best of its kind. The first American feature from director Roman Polanski, (who also faithfully penned the screenplay based off of Ira Levin's novel of the same name), and second in his "Apartment Trilogy", it also features the breakout role for Mia Farrow as the tormented title character. The sensationalized premise could have easily resulted in pure camp if not for the top notch talent involved, as well as the patience taken with the material. Polanski's script is flawless and his detailed direction lets none of the photogenic scenes linger longer than necessary. Quirky supporting performances from Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer provide some much needed humor; humor that has an unmistakably sinister undercurrent at the same time. Playing with psychological suggestion up until the very last legendarily blasphemous moment, it is a paranoid nightmare that few other movies are anywhere near on par with.
23. KILL LIST
(2011)
Dir - Ben Wheatley
Similar to how Quentin Tarantino deconstructed B-movie tropes for comedy's sake in Pulp Fiction, Ben Wheatley makes a hit man movie on paper yet also one that takes things into disturbing and ambiguous terrain with his sophomore effort Kill List. It is an ambitious project of sorts; one that alludes to a different genre before finally embracing the horror genre full-tilt and not until well into its third act. Wheatley's initial script fleshed many more details out, but as things were ultimately scaled back, such forced ambiguity gives it a more compelling and goosebumps-ridden mood. Various clues are given without so much as one insulting expository dialog drop, plus several shockingly brutal moments slam home the fact that we are dealing with morally complex, "bad" people here, those whose actions seem to usher even worse forces into their already crippled lives. Performance wise it could not be better and Wheatley's intimate and believable style only enhances the alarming and increasingly creepy nature of the material.
22. HOUSE ON HAUNTED HILL
(1959)
Dir - William Castle
The first of two memorable collaborations between actor Vincent Price and director William Castle, House on Haunted Hill is a benchmark work in the lighthearted yet gleefully macabre, spooky ghost vein of horror film. Castle's "Emergo" theater gimmick was to have plastic skeletons fly over the audience and such Halloween haunted house shenanigans perfectly encapsulate the actual movie. The Frank Lloyd Wright designed Ennis House provides an effectively unnatural exterior and the script utilizes plot elements from Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House, (which had yet to be cinematically adapted), and finds a wonderful use for a series of menacing supernatural gags. Price is a naturally chilling, upper class quasi-bad guy here and the entire movie plays its increasingly fun, tongue-in-cheek, logic-less spookshow aspects arguably better than any other movie ever has. For pure popcorn-munching, Golden Era creepiness, nothing is more exemplary than this.
21. BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN
(1935)
Dir - James Whale
Easily the best of many sequels to Universal's stable roster of monster properties, Bride of Frankenstein kicked up the camp, with returning director James Whale subtly lampooning much of what he established in the previous film. The shift in tone is effective as the story offers up quirky elements such as lab-grown puppet sized people, Una O'Connor wailing away obnoxiously, and Ernest Thesiger's effeminate and eccentric Doctor Pretorius being a more tongue-in-cheek character than anyone in the first movie was allowed to be. This was the only time that the Universal Frankenstein monster speaks on camera and even though Boris Karloff disapproved of the idea, he brings a wonderful and childlike charm to his intentionally primitive line-readings, all of which makes him that much more tragic. As the title bride, Elsa Lancaster's screen time is unfortunately brief, but her striking, over the top look and bird-like mannerisms have endured all the same.
20. THE EVIL DEAD
(1981)
Dir - Sam Raimi
Unarguably one of the finest DIY horror movie ever made, Sam Raimi's debut The Evil Dead launched a beloved franchise and made both its director and star Bruce Campbell icons in the genre. While further entries in the series embraced a type of ridiculous Looney Tunes aesthetic, the initial film here goes for and achieves more creepy results. This is also a rare case where many of the technical and narrative drawbacks, (lousy acting, laughable special effects, cliches piled on top of each other), become enduring due to the gleeful exuberance that comes through from Raimi and his crew. It is a wonderful example of one's grasp exceeding their means and the end result would simply be a charming train wreck if again it did not deliver so much wickedly unsettling atmosphere. The sound design is superb, with distorted wind and demon voices bombarding the audio, plus this easily has some of the most inventive camera work in any horror film, as it rapidly glides through the woods as if entirely possessed by such malevolent entities.
Dir - Ridley Scott
The quintessential haunted house, kind-of-slasher movie in space, Alien maintains a rightfully lauded reputation for its overall flawless production values. Initially written by Dan 'O Bannon and Ronald Shusett as an intense A-level monster film, this was a rare case where all parties involved sank the time, money, and talent into something with both an artistic and commercial payoff. Even though it was only his second feature, director Ridley Scott maintains a type of less-is-more tension and control over the proceedings that most filmmaking veterans should be envious of. He, cinematographer Derek Vanlint, and H.R. Giger's iconic design work make almost every single shot look like a gorgeously detailed painting. Numerous moments of nearly comical tension are broken by inevitable jump scares and even though the title alien is shown sparingly, every second of its screen time is maximized for memorable effect. Of course the film also launched Sigourney Weaver's career, though her role in the Alien verse would be expanded upon much more in future installments.
(1985)
Dir - Dan O'Bannon
Doubling as a comedy horror masterpiece as well as a trend-setting zombie film, The Return of the Living Dead hits all of the right loud and bloody notes. As part of their post Night of the Living Dead agreement, co-producer John A. Russo retained the rights to do his own spin-off that was tonally a different beast from George A. Romero's. The resulting film here was screenwriter Dan O'Bannon's first crack behind the lens after Tobe Hooper dropped out and the pacing never stumbles as one hilarious scene proceeds the next. This was the movie that introduced the clever, running, talking, and brain-eating reanimated corpses that are both indestructible by conventional means and totally relentless. As opposed to just having characters that argue with each other in a state of crisis, the cast delivers more purposely exaggerated performances that heighten the punk rock mayhem tone. Also, Linnea Quigley's spontaneous cemetery strip tease is easily the greatest nude scene in movie history, if we are to be so honest.
(1932)
Dir - Karl Freund
Following up the phenomenal success of Universal's Dracula and Frankenstein, The Mummy was essentially an Egyptian reworking of the former with its renowned cinematographer Karl Freund getting behind the lens this time. Of course it also features one of the most legendary performances from Boris Karloff who even though he appears as the fully-wrapped title character for but a single excellently creepy scene, he still delivers the chills throughout the rest of the movie as the resurrected sorcerer with the glowing eyes Ardeth Bey. Utilizing incidental music minimally, it therefor still largely maintains the type of intimate tone that its predecessor monster movies did. Also the script by Dracula screenwriter John L. Balderston further emphasizes the reincarnated "lost love" trope. More chilling than overtly romantic and even with its retreaded qualities in tow, it rightfully stands as one the studio's most seminal works in the genre.
(1978)
Dir - Philip Kaufman
A go-to and rare example of a remake surpassing an already renowned original, the second cinematic version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers from director Philip Kaufman takes a more horrific approach to the material while still emphasizing a suspenseful sense of paranoia. W.D. Richter's script adheres to Jack Finney's The Body Snatchers novel just as the 1956 version did and it keeps the same plot structure as well as many of the same set pieces. Yet the setting switches to a hip, progressive San Francisco and offers up another layer of such a diverse and forward-moving city becoming the first victim of an identity/passion-stealing alien takeover. Released in an age of disillusionment with the "Me" generation, the cold and frightening outcome here hits that much harder and Kaufman, the top-notch cast, and excellent practical effects help give the film a commendable amount of creepy and gasp-worthy moments.
(2018)
Dir - Ari Aster
Writer/director Ari Aster's ambitious cinematic voice came fully-formed on his extraordinary debut Hereditary. The AFI graduate had made two horror shorts before, but the amount of detail both in the heavily researched script and visual design is impressive enough, let alone how much emotional resonance is maintained. The latter component is the most important, as the film's terrifying impact rests on the meticulously weighty shoulders of the traumatized and cursed family at the center of everything. Everyone here gives flawless performances, with Toni Collette and Alex Wolff particularly standing out as two people who have become ravished with emotional upheaval. As a horror movie, Aster stages some of the most actually scary moments the genre has ever seen, utilizing avant-garde saxophonist Colin Stetson's score in conjunction with no music at all to create nightmarish tension that makes the work of other horror filmmakers seem hackneyed at best. This is a triumph from to top bottom and one of the few in recent times to truly elevate the bar.
(1968)
Dir - Roman Polanski
Rosemary's Baby is considered to be the one major Hollywood film that kickstarted the occult craze in cinema and it remains possibly the best of its kind. The first American feature from director Roman Polanski, (who also faithfully penned the screenplay based off of Ira Levin's novel of the same name), and second in his "Apartment Trilogy", it also features the breakout role for Mia Farrow as the tormented title character. The sensationalized premise could have easily resulted in pure camp if not for the top notch talent involved, as well as the patience taken with the material. Polanski's script is flawless and his detailed direction lets none of the photogenic scenes linger longer than necessary. Quirky supporting performances from Ruth Gordon and Sidney Blackmer provide some much needed humor; humor that has an unmistakably sinister undercurrent at the same time. Playing with psychological suggestion up until the very last legendarily blasphemous moment, it is a paranoid nightmare that few other movies are anywhere near on par with.
(2011)
Dir - Ben Wheatley
Similar to how Quentin Tarantino deconstructed B-movie tropes for comedy's sake in Pulp Fiction, Ben Wheatley makes a hit man movie on paper yet also one that takes things into disturbing and ambiguous terrain with his sophomore effort Kill List. It is an ambitious project of sorts; one that alludes to a different genre before finally embracing the horror genre full-tilt and not until well into its third act. Wheatley's initial script fleshed many more details out, but as things were ultimately scaled back, such forced ambiguity gives it a more compelling and goosebumps-ridden mood. Various clues are given without so much as one insulting expository dialog drop, plus several shockingly brutal moments slam home the fact that we are dealing with morally complex, "bad" people here, those whose actions seem to usher even worse forces into their already crippled lives. Performance wise it could not be better and Wheatley's intimate and believable style only enhances the alarming and increasingly creepy nature of the material.
(1959)
Dir - William Castle
The first of two memorable collaborations between actor Vincent Price and director William Castle, House on Haunted Hill is a benchmark work in the lighthearted yet gleefully macabre, spooky ghost vein of horror film. Castle's "Emergo" theater gimmick was to have plastic skeletons fly over the audience and such Halloween haunted house shenanigans perfectly encapsulate the actual movie. The Frank Lloyd Wright designed Ennis House provides an effectively unnatural exterior and the script utilizes plot elements from Shirley Jackson's The Haunting of Hill House, (which had yet to be cinematically adapted), and finds a wonderful use for a series of menacing supernatural gags. Price is a naturally chilling, upper class quasi-bad guy here and the entire movie plays its increasingly fun, tongue-in-cheek, logic-less spookshow aspects arguably better than any other movie ever has. For pure popcorn-munching, Golden Era creepiness, nothing is more exemplary than this.
(1935)
Dir - James Whale
Easily the best of many sequels to Universal's stable roster of monster properties, Bride of Frankenstein kicked up the camp, with returning director James Whale subtly lampooning much of what he established in the previous film. The shift in tone is effective as the story offers up quirky elements such as lab-grown puppet sized people, Una O'Connor wailing away obnoxiously, and Ernest Thesiger's effeminate and eccentric Doctor Pretorius being a more tongue-in-cheek character than anyone in the first movie was allowed to be. This was the only time that the Universal Frankenstein monster speaks on camera and even though Boris Karloff disapproved of the idea, he brings a wonderful and childlike charm to his intentionally primitive line-readings, all of which makes him that much more tragic. As the title bride, Elsa Lancaster's screen time is unfortunately brief, but her striking, over the top look and bird-like mannerisms have endured all the same.
(1981)
Dir - Sam Raimi
Unarguably one of the finest DIY horror movie ever made, Sam Raimi's debut The Evil Dead launched a beloved franchise and made both its director and star Bruce Campbell icons in the genre. While further entries in the series embraced a type of ridiculous Looney Tunes aesthetic, the initial film here goes for and achieves more creepy results. This is also a rare case where many of the technical and narrative drawbacks, (lousy acting, laughable special effects, cliches piled on top of each other), become enduring due to the gleeful exuberance that comes through from Raimi and his crew. It is a wonderful example of one's grasp exceeding their means and the end result would simply be a charming train wreck if again it did not deliver so much wickedly unsettling atmosphere. The sound design is superb, with distorted wind and demon voices bombarding the audio, plus this easily has some of the most inventive camera work in any horror film, as it rapidly glides through the woods as if entirely possessed by such malevolent entities.
(1999)
Dir - Daniel Myrick/Eduardo Sánchez
A game-changing work that shot a much needed jolt of primitive creativity into the late 90's horror genre was The Blair Witch Project; correctly recognized as the most important found footage movie ever made. In an era of horrendous CGI, an awful teen slasher revival, big/loud/stupid blockbusters, and franchise sequels, this basically did what The Ramones did to rock music in the mid-1970s by showing how effective something can be when uninspired artifices are stripped away. Directors Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sánchez concocted a thirty-five page shooting script and hired three actors to improvise their dialog, equipping them with camping gear, two cameras, and hiking instructions for eight days in the woods. The results are partially genuine then with the small cast ideally conveying a hopeless sense of terrified frustration when lost in the scariest location possible. Escalating at a disturbingly gradual rate, the ending is one of the most outstanding and creepy in any horror film, made more so by the enormous power of suggestion over concrete answers that we are never given.
(1931)
Dir - James Whale
One of the most beloved and influential of all horror films was Universal's second to be a literary adaptation that year, James Whale's Frankenstein. Just as Tod Browning's Dracula had done nine months earlier, the movie ushered in or helped broaden certain tropes that remain endlessly duplicated still today. Sparking lab equipment, mad scientists playing god, mute/deformed/misunderstood creatures, grave robbing/hunchbacked assistants, thunderstorms equaling scary, etc. Director Whale's comedic tendencies are almost totally absent as the movie plays out to no musical score and brings a stripped down yet eerie and direct calmness to Mary Shelley's story. Colin Clive and Dwight Frye are memorable in their master and assistant performances, but of course the movie belongs to Boris Karloff whose unnamed monster went down in history as a flawlessly realized portrayal of confusion, anger, and tenderness all rolled into a towering, monstrous form.
(1973)
Dir - Robin Hardy
The quintessential "folk horror" film and one of the finest British movies ever made was The Wicker Man; Robin Hardy's adaptation of David Pinner's novel Ritual. Production company British Lion Films was having financial problems at the time and this resulted in Christopher Lee and other members of the cast and crew allegedly not taking a salary, as well as the movie being made quickly and on a tight budget. Amazingly, the finished product does not suffer from such drawbacks and manages to be one of the first horror movies to bypass all genre tropes while being disturbing via its own singular means. A part musical even, it somehow manages to make jovial Pagans who are singing and celebrating in warm weather persistently disturbing by filtering them through the bewildered and concerned perspective of a devout Christian outsider as the main protagonist. It is not an understatement to proclaim that this has one of the most astounding endings ever filmed; shocking, deeply unsettling, and most of all thought-provoking as it crystallizes the true and terrifying nature of dogmatic fanaticism.
(1960)
Dir - Alfred Hitchcock
In many ways, Psycho is Alfred Hitchcock's defining work; the most famous film from the most famous film director. Few movies regardless of genre have been dissected and talked about as much and it remains a trendsetting benchmark over six decades later. As far as its contribution to horror, many can rightfully regard it with popularizing if not all-out invented what would quickly morph into the giallo and slasher sub-genres, offering up cinema's most famous knife-wielding, split-personality murderer Normal Bates in the process. As usual, Hitchcock was deliberately subverting expectations with something as monumental as doing away with his A-list movie star only a third of the way into the film, to something as inconsequential as showing a toilet being flushed on camera for the first time. The killer reveal is the most famous there is and performance wise, Anthony Perkins set the template for the eccentrically disturbed yet polite and sympathetic villain, forever becoming associated with such a household name role. Plus musically, Bernard Herman's score is as lauded and copied as pretty much everything else in the movie has been.
(1931)
Dir - Tod Browning
The sound era got its first bonafide masterpiece in the horror genre with Universal's Dracula; a movie with few equals in establishing perpetually lingering motifs. Based directly off of the 1924 stage play of the same name as opposed to Bram Stoker's novel, the first act is top to bottom memorable in its outstanding Gothic scenery and ultra spooky atmosphere. Though director Tod Browning maintains much of this sinister mood throughout, the film does eventually settle into more of a chamber drama once the setting switches to England. Still, Béla Lugosi's star-making turn as the undead Count easily carries it through. Savoring his defining role which he had already performed on Broadway, Lugosi's calculated and heavily-accented dialog, suave demeanor, widows peak, and spellbinding eyes permanently solidified the alluring yet macabre, on screen vampire aesthetic. Dwight Fry is an entirely different kind of creepy as the manic, bug-eating Renfield, the finest performance of the select few that he gave before his untimely death only twelve years later.
(1989)
Dir - Alejandro Jodorowsky
Few filmmakers are as singular as the French-Chilean/enlightened being Alejandro Jodorowsky and his lone horror film Santa Sangre is very like his minuscule amount of other movies. Which is to say that it is very unlike any other movie out there. Jodorowsky returned to Mexico to shoot on location after being approached by both producer Claudio Argento and screenwriter Roberto Leoni as he seemed the only director worthy of such a bizarre tale. Narratively, it takes its cue from Psycho with a traumatized son fulfilling his mother's vengeance, except with a plethora of bizarre details. There is a funeral procession for an elephant, four people with down syndrome snort coke as well as party with an obese prostitute, a muscle-bound man plays a female wrestler with fake tits, Axel Jodorowsky dresses up as the Invisible Man, and a church worships an armless girl while baptizing themselves in a giant pool of her "holy blood". Plus a lot of other stuff. What is wonderful is that the film is as beautiful, violent, and provocative as it is relentlessly strange and one could make a solid case that this is Jodorowsky's crowning achievement from behind the lens.
(1964)
Dir - Masaki Kobayashi
With kaidan films being their own sub-genre in Japan, Masaki Kobayashi's masterpiece Kwaidan serves as the pinnacle in this regard. One of the most gorgeous movies ever produced in any genre, it also may very well have the best sound design out of any of them. Famed composer Tōru Takemitsu created a chilling and entirely subdued series of unorthodox noises to accompany three-hours worth of images, each of those images looking like an evocative painting that never resembles the real world. What is most striking though is the movie's use of silence, which creates a fascinating and ethereal mood that never lets up along with the visuals and the supernatural subject matter taken from Lafcadio Hearn's folktale collection Kwaidan: Stories and Studios of Strange Things. Each of the segments has the depth and nearly the length of an entire feature, but the epic undertaking of the whole is never challenging; it is instead just downright spellbinding.
(2007)
Dir - Oren Peli
As of this date, no horror film has utilized the found footage framework to better advantage than Oren Peli's exceptional Paranormal Activity. Every justification for the sub-genre is not only given, but also allows for the simple and terrifying story to resonate that much more with the audience. Filmed in Peli's own home over an intense seven day shooting schedule, Micha Sloat's protagonist means well in some respects when he buys a camera and annoys his girlfriend Katie Featherston by trying to capture the bumps-in-the-night episodes that they have been experiencing. Yet he is also driven by stubborn machismo and only sees the folly of his ways when it is too late, at which point this doomed couple's plight becomes that much more relatable. Besides the way that the footage is chronologically structured, we are never taken out of the proceedings by questioning the character's behavior, due in large part to the malevolent force that they are dealing with which cannot be ignored, reasoned with, or bested. For those who can immerse themselves in found footage, this can easily be recognized as the scariest movie ever made, yet also one with plenty to say about complex couple dynamics and the recklessness of trying to control the uncontrolable.
(1975)
Dir - David Cronenberg
One of a handful of monumental independent horror films made during a boom following the American New Wave was actually one from north of the US, Canadian David Cronenberg's full-length debut Shivers. Also released as They Came from Within, Frissons, and The Parasite Murders, this was ground zero for the godfather of body horror. Though it was made under humble pretenses with some rough, amateur filmmaking touches in tow, it is brimful of profound ideas and Cronenberg was already able to create a mood of unease. The movie is deliberately paced and many of its more shocking and gross moments have an eerie and palpable feel where things seem both ridiculous and realistic all at once. Pre-AIDS, its concept of parasitic sex organs evolving humans into maliciously horny zombies would only end up carrying more devastating weight as the following two decades went on. Plus it is no accident that it takes place in a high-rise, luxury apartment building on its own island, commenting slyly on a convenience-seeking society that is willfully cut-off from the rest of the world when things go all the way to hell.
(1982)
Dir - John Carpenter
Though it has become debatable amongst horror aficionados in more recent decades as to whether or not John Carpenter's paramount work in the genre is either Halloween or The Thing, there is no denying that the latter is a crowning achievement in hair-raising special effects and claustrophobic, paranoid mood setting. One of the best remakes in history, Carpenter's interpretation of John W. Campbell's Who Goes There? is comparatively more faithful to its source material than the also excellent, Howard Hawks produced The Thing from Another World from 1951. Rob Bottin's numerous monster creations represent the absolute peak of practical effects as they are terrifying, technically stunning, realistic, outrageous, and disgusting all at once. The entire male cast is great and just as Predator more directly did five years later, the story itself can be seen as a comment on macho posturing being unable to withstand a relentless alien threat. Topping off with a stellar and ambiguous ending that alludes to the threat still being out there, this is as chilling, nihilistic, and fun as horror movies ever get.
(1977)
Dir - Dario Argento
The undisputed, celebrated masterpiece of Dario Argento's career took all of the filmmaker's flashy camerawork and Hitchcockian suspense-building and fused it with a flimsy fairy tale narrative that is straight from the bowels of nightmares. Suspiria stands as both the peak of the giallo sub-genre and one of its rarer examples to exist squarely in the realm of the supernatural, centered on a German dance academy that is home to the Mater Suspiriorum, Our Lady of Sighs; a powerful witch that was inspired by Thomas De Quincey's 1845 essay "Suspiria de Profundis". One of the last movies to be processed in Technicolor, it is endlessly striking, as is Argento and cinematographer Luciano Tovoli's ever-moving shot construction and meticulous, otherworldly set design. A vivid painting come to life, it wonderfully sacrifices narrative coherency at times in order to emphasis its dream logic where a ceiling full of maggots, a room full of razor wire, a hairy monster hand emerging out of the pitch black sky, an undead friend with eyeballs painted over her eyelids, and Goblin delivering the outrageously creepy horror movie score to end all other horror movie scores each make perfect sense under such a surreal and terrifying umbrella.
(1978)
Dir - John Carpenter
One of the 1970s seminal game changers in the horror genre, John Carpenter's initial, modestly produced Halloween is perfectly constructed to say the least. Shot quickly and cheaply with little to no expectations upon completion, it went on to establish the slasher genre, (for the worst), and spawn an undying franchise, (also for the worst), but what failed to work in both the immediate and later day knock-offs is downright chilling here. Carpenter's concept was for Michael Myers to have the most rudimentary of backstories, simplifying him to a mere embodiment of unexplainable and unstoppable evil. Looking at the film as a standalone entry, it is the ultimate portrayal of a "boogeyman"; a malevolent presence for the mere terrifying sake of it that follows no rules, disrupts the unassuming American home life, and disappears at the end to become even more frightening as he could still be out there. Of course Carpenter's score became equally iconic in its own right and ideally emphasizes the goosebumps-ridden atmosphere that the movie is overflowing with.
(1992)
Dir - David Lynch
Classifying anything from the mind and vision of David Lynch as "straight horror" would be deceitful, yet Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me comparatively qualifies as the most genre-heavy production in his filmography. A prequel to his beloved yet studio mangled television series, it recast a key role, omitted or greatly limited others, and bypassed several events of the show, but in place of all of that is an outstanding performance from Sheryl Lee in a horrifying and jaw-droppingly bizarre nightmare of domestic abuse via a demon named Bob, creamed corn, alternate dimensions, a Southern-accented David Bowie disappearing, and some other stuff. The tone is one of the darkest in Lynch's career and it is as unapologetically surreal as all of his other trademark works. This and especially the accompanying outtakes compilation Twin Peaks: The Missing Pieces would both largely play into the 2017 revival Twin Peaks: The Return, all of which could collectively represent Lynch's to-date masterpiece.
(1973)
Dir - William Friedkin
One of if not THE most culturally significant horror film ever made, The Exorcist ushered in an era where the genre could become legitimized with such a serious production commitment behind it. A collaboration between cock-sure New Hollywood filmmaker William Friedkin and author William Peter Blatty who adapted his own novel for the screen, it was deliberately boundary pushing for the time, but any would-be exploitative arguments can be silenced by its sincere and largely naturalistic presentation. After a dread-setting intro, Friedkin takes a gradual time in unveiling the supernaturally harrowing story, utilizing music only during an occasional transition scene while the narrative concerning Ellen Burstyn and Linda Blair's characters intertwine with that of Jason Miller and Max von Sydow's doomed holy men. All of the disturbing occurrences have been long etched into pop culture by now, which may diminish their impact for some, but it is still an enormously sophisticated and intense work that set the bar at an ever striving level that new horror movies are endlessly leveled-up against.
(1978)
Dir - George A. Romero
A far more ambitious and, (darkly), comedic entry than its predecessor Night of the Living Dead, George A. Romero's sequel Dawn of the Dead became a maverick movie in its own right. Still shot completely independently in the filmmaker's local Pittsburgh, (with both Dario and his brother Claudio Argento pitching in financially), Romero and special make-up effects legend Tom Savini concocted the most memorable collection of bloody, blue-skinned zombie gags probably ever filmed. The premise of locking the survivors in a two story mall offered up a wonderful opportunity to critique America's blind consumerism. Also, the director's nihilistic view of humanity collapsing under a barrage of life-ending trauma was as sharp as ever. The film's ability to poke fun at itself, (which is something Night of the Living Dead purposely side-stepped), was a much needed differentiating quality, making this an enormously violent yet satirical masterpiece as well as a rare one that holds up uniquely to its forerunner.
(1968)
Dir - George A. Romero
The horror genre can be broken up into two broad eras; before Night of the Living Dead and after Night of the Living Dead. George A. Romero and his rag-tag personnel of investors, actors, crew people, and locals made history in 1968 when they modestly unleashed a film that changed the game in a permanent manner. With a tone that is devoid of camp, the movie was a direct essay on both the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights movement in depicting human being's inability to find common ground and protect each other when an unstoppable and unexplainable force descends upon the entire populous. This of course also ushered in the "Romero zombie" for the first time, almost permanently doing away with the previous concept of corpses brought back from the dead via voodoo magic in order to usually just serve as manual labor. Here they are simply relentless, flesh-eating ghouls and by breaking so many rules while simultaneously establishing even more, Romero single-handedly launched the American New Wave's age of horror, to the point where there could be no turning back.
(2015)
Dir - Robert Eggers
An unrelenting masterpiece of Puritan dread and traumatic hardships brought on by superstitious destitute, Robert Egger's The Witch stands as the finest debut that horror has ever produced. Painstakingly researched to provide period accuracy for full immersion, Egger's tragedy of a New England family that is banished from their commune due to zealous pride is ideally realized in every frame, many of which look as if they were taken directly out of artwork from the era. The dense dialog and authentic musical score only enhance the experience and Eggers takes on a tone that is void of both humor and light. It is as much a tale of defying nature as anything, not just the haunting wilderness landscape which effortlessly conjures up its own lurking demons, but the nature of paranoia brought on by extreme religious dogma that both captures and destroys those who are at the mercy of their beliefs, as well as being at the mercy of their harsh environment. Blessed with arguably the greatest ending to any movie and superb performances from its young and veteran cast, this is a maverick film that just so happens to elevate its genre to one of its most exciting plateaus in cinema's over a century long history.
(1963)
Dir - Robert Wise
As the 1960s were a transitional time for cinema both in America and abroad, The Haunting represents the absolute pinnacle of the Golden Age of Hollywood's predominantly spooky, "less is more" approach to the horror film. Director Robert Wise began work on it as West Side Story was wrapping up and screenwriter Nelson Gidding spent six months adapting Shirley Jackson's 1959 novel The Haunting of Hill House, resulting in a story that persistently plays on the psychological turmoil of its central and eccentric character Eleanor Lance, while just as unequivocally proving that ghosts very much are among us. One of the absolute finest constructed movies in the entire genre, everything from the off-setting cinematography, occasionally bombastic music, flawless casting, and Wise's mastery of every component create something that persistently spooks the audience. Decades after its release, this still contains some of the most hair-raising set pieces ever filmed and every calculated cinematic move only enhances the supernatural menace and disturbed psyche of its doomed protagonist/narrator.
(1980)
Dir - Stanley Kubrick
As celebrated and fan-theorized-to-death as The Shining continues to be since its initial release, none of its pop culture permanence can diminish from its deserving reputation as the be all end all horror film. The only such work in the genre from cinema's finest director Stanley Kubrick, based off of arguably the best novel that Stephen King ever wrote, featuring an astonishing score from Wendy Carlos and Rachel Elkind, and containing two career highlight performances from both Jack Nicholson and Shelley Duvall, it has all of the ingredients on paper to be the masterpiece that it is. Kubrick's meticulous eye for detail is in every nook and cranny of the finished production, (except for the finale where we fail to see any "it's freezing outside" breath on anyone), and his tyrannical approach to his actors while unacceptable does wield ideal results, particularly in Duvall's case. King's grievances with the finished product are understandable considering that Kubrick changed the entire focus from the point of view of Danny Torrance to Jack, as well as utilizing the narrative to tell an ambiguous tale of perpetual madness and how truly terrifying the unknown is, which is personified in The Overlook Hotel as a sentient entity that manipulates those who posses the title's telepathic gift/curse. While much of the humanity and resolution of King's novel is nowhere to be found, the film is an idealized work of pure, mystifying horror that is endlessly watchable and by all accounts so far, will never be equaled.
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