With Halloween approaching, thoughts turn to that prized commodity in our popular culture: the horror movie.
It’s been with us since the silent days (“Nosferatu,” anyone?), and it’s one of the few genres Hollywood feels comfortable taking a risk on anymore. Horror has a built-in fan base, skewing younger and male, but also with loyal fans in middle-age.
As a longstanding member of this group, I know we all love the feeling of being terrified at a safe remove. It’s thrilling, and somehow, cathartic.
Hollywood embraces horror movies because they aren’t star-driven and don’t have to be made on opulent sets, or in a computer. Relatively cheap to produce, they can be highly profitable. (“The Texas Chainsaw Massacre” from 1974 was made for around $150,000. To date, it’s grossed about $30 million).
Not surprisingly, horror movies can be atrociously awful. Yet even a cheesy, amateurish outing can be perversely entertaining — a movie you laugh at, not with. Think Ed Wood’s incomparable “Plan 9 From Outer Space” (1957).
In general, I prefer my scares with a degree of subtlety and a touch of class. Looking back at just the last decade, we have worthy entries both from here and abroad. I’ve listed six of my favorites below.
If they keep you up at night, I’ll have done my job. Happy Halloween!
The Babadook (2014)
Crackerjack Australian feature from director Jennifer Kent follows Amelia (Essie Davis), still grieving the loss of her husband as she struggles to raise her troubled six-year-old son Samuel (Noah Wiseman). When a children’s book called “The Babadook” mysteriously appears in their house, things go from bad to worse, as the evil character in the book literally jumps off the page. Creepy film really gets under your skin.
The Witch (2015)
Director Robert Eggers’ austere, eerie entry takes us back to Puritan times, when accused witches were burned at the stake. A farming family moves to an isolated patch of land where a good harvest seems unlikely at best. When their baby disappears, mother Katherine (Kate Dickie) blames eldest daughter Thomasin (a superb Anya Taylor-Joy). Evil portents appear, and gradually the film builds to a terrifying crescendo.
Get Out (2017)
Rose (Allison Williams) decides to introduce her white parents (Bradley Whitford and Catherine Keener) to her African-American boyfriend Chris (Daniel Kaluuya). Visiting them in the suburbs, Chris is welcomed, but he quickly senses something’s off. By the time he realizes he really should get out, it’s too late. Jordan Peele’s shocker scores as both a cutting satire on white liberal racism, and a good old-fashioned horror flick.
Hereditary (2018)
Artist Annie (Toni Collette) is absorbing the recent death of her mother, a malevolent woman whose presence lingers after death, particularly in her eccentric daughter Charlie (Milly Shapiro). The disturbing atmosphere finally prompts Annie to seek help from Joan (Ann Dowd), who knows all about seances. Petrifying film co-stars Gabriel Byrne as husband Steve, who’s trying to keep it all together. Good luck with that!
X (2022)
In 1979, burlesque promoter Wayne (Martin Henderson) wants to make a porn movie. He rents a rundown rural Texas farmhouse for the set, and drives there with girlfriend Maxine (Mia Goth), who’ll star along with Jackson (Kid Cudi) and Bobby-Lynne (Brittany Snow). On arrival, they meet their hosts, a weird, ancient couple who prove a lot more intrusive than expected. Ti West’s film, which features Jenna Ortega as the lowly sound technician, starts as an homage to campy ‘70s horror, before the blood starts gushing.
Smile (2022)
Rose Cotter (Sosie Bacon) is a psychiatrist who witnesses the suicide of a patient. Like the most horrific virus imaginable, whatever madness the patient had gets passed on to her. This includes visions of smiling people whose arrival signals impending mayhem. Rose must find the cure for her debilitating affliction, or die trying. Bacon (daughter of Kevin and Kyra Sedgwick) nails her demanding role, and this unnerving movie never lets up.
More: 8 Great Horror Flicks for the Smart Crowd
