Late Night with the Devil sees the excellent David Dastmalchian as Jack Delroy, a 1970s host of the late night chat show, Night Owls. Desperate to gain viewers back after a tragedy in his personal life, Jack themes his latest episode around occultism, however, the broadcast goes horribly wrong when a possessed guest unleashes a world of hell.
The directing duo, Colin and Cameron Cairnes delivers a menacing and mischievous feast brimming with hocus pocus trickery that constantly deceives and takes the viewer on a rollercoaster of havoc as we see a talk show spectacle turn into a cinematic rendition of satanic-panic-like mayhem. Late Night with the Devil’s wacky, yet utterly malicious narrative takes shape due to its clever filmic development; the film immerses itself into its vintage layout, with the frame taking on a surprising found footage arrangement, but not how one would generally expect it to. In other words, instead of a small handheld camera capturing POV’s, the found footage lens is of a ‘lost tape’ that has been discovered by a group of current documentary filmmakers. It’s a unique breaking of found footage codes, shaking colloquial storytelling and providing a level of exciting mystery.
Shadowing the film’s fresh take on the diegetic lens is its meta-esque feel, thanks to the late night lost tape appearing as a live broadcast. Immediately, bells ring to the likes of Ghostwatch (1992), WNUF Halloween Special (2013) and Haunted Ulster Live (2023) all of which utilise an almost forbidden feel, watching realist-coded footage gone wrong. Late Night with the Devil joins these witty displays of interactive filmmaking that have created an intriguing and entertaining cinematic discussion surrounding participatory viewership.
Whilst it is certain to say that presenting the moving image as an unplanned, charged, live piece aids in the fright factor and immediacy of it all, what is not to be underestimated is how the film’s performances equally contribute to the overwhelming impact of it all. Dastmalchian shines on screen, taking the already fantastically written character and making the role come to life with his portrayal of a broken man attempting to redeem some form of oomph back into his career, only for it to all come crashing down in a great calamity. Further to this is the film’s ability to conjure a scare or two. It is also worth mentioning how the film does not solely rely on brief and rapid ineffective jumpscares to entice a shriek, instead, the scenes are crafted in a way that allows for slowburn reveals that act to chill rather than shout ‘boo!’.
Since the film’s premiere at 2023’s South by Southwest Film Festival, reviewers have raved about Late Night with the Devil, commending its distinctive atmosphere and novel style, yet there has been some commentary regarding its use of CGI. Despite the beloved (and deserved) reputation of practical effects, the use of computer-generated imagery is not the devil, it can in fact be an effective tool. However, there are some pretty obvious, and poor uses of it within Late Night with the Devil, particularly involving scenes featuring lightning, which feels quite out of place and inauthentic when compared to the rest of the film’s stylisation.
In short, Late Night with the Devil oozes appeal, whether that be through its enthusiastic medium that the exciting story is told, or through its riveting storyline that unfolds, convulses, twists and turns until it reaches an almighty, and showstopping revelation – whichever way, Late Night with the Devil is a must-see horror.
In the world of remakes and sequels, few franchises (if any) have escaped their fair share of criticism, many of which comments involve leaving the ‘original’ entry alone and stopping with the rambling continuations. One series in particular whose successors have fallen flat is The Omen. With a talented cast including Ralph Ineson, Bill Nighy and Nell Tiger Free, along with a generous budget and an adequate storyline, it seemed that The First Omen had everything in its favour. However, does the sixth instalment in the franchise live up to its grave potential…
The First Omen introduces us to Margaret (Tiger Free), a young novitiate who begins her probation before becoming a church sister. She travels to Rome to begin her service at an orphanage. During her quest, a series of events unfold, leaving her in the middle of a conspiracy between the church and the Antichrist. With the film encompassing Margaret’s discoveries and the subsequent chaotic journey of truth-seeking regarding a colossal conspiracy, the entire narrative situates itself around her both psychically and emotionally.
This prolonged exposure to a character requires a fully dimensional persona to be written, which writers Tim Smith, Keith Thomas, and director Arkasha Stevenson brilliantly do. Margaret’s complexity is where the figurativeness of the film shines. It captures a level of humanness which makes character study-based films excel. Take, for example, Saint Maud (2019) and Pearl (2022), both of which utilise emotional resonance to conjure a complex study of how a tainted psyche escalates situations. The First Omen joins the likes of nuanced horror films, capturing the intricacies that develop when one is in duress. Margaret is not written as a prop for which jumpscares thrive; she is a ‘real’ person whom we can imagine a backstory of, sympathise with her journey and feel the full force of terror when it comes her way.
With this being said, it is worth tipping the hat to Tiger Free’s formidable performance, with her execution of a troubled, fearful, yet powerful young woman being a cinematic delight. Further to the film’s benefit is the scoring orchestrated by Mark Koven, whose previous soundtrack credits include The Witch (2015) and The Lighthouse(2019). The score is grim and foreboding, with harsh crescendos which jolt the senses without replicating a clashing metallic sound. This delicate balance of sinister atmospheric strings, along with the softer moments of choir vocals showcasing a blend of baritone lows and alto highs, is what makes The First Omen’s haunting aura swell.
In all of the film’s prominence, one thing must be said: the narrative is rather predictable. Foreseeing every story beat, big or small, can have quite a negative effect due to its revelation of transparent twists, which, more often than not, will be guessed by many viewers by the time the first chapter has ceased. This does not necessarily take away from the film’s magnitude and evident prowess, but it does mean that allure and a sense of heightened suspense are stripped back. Due to its prequel nature, meaning that we already know of the following events, and considering the film’s association with countless films it was an easy pitfall for The First Omen to tumble into.
Concluding on a positive note, Stevenson’s directorial capabilities must not be overlooked by any means. With all of its merit, it is easy to forget that this film was a feature debut from the director, with her background being in television, namely season three of the anthology series Channel Zero (2018). Stevenson’s vision stands tall against the rest, executing some pretty graphic scenes (warning for those with sensitive eyes come ‘the birthing scene’!). It is this precise flare of intensity that horror fans will truly appreciate, particularly considering how many mainstream scares tend to censor gory potentials due to a barrage of rules and regulations. The First Omen breathes fresh air into the lungs of 2024’s horror, notably because of some of the releases this side of the year has seen. Is this prequel as good as Richard Donner’s The Omen (1976)? Not a chance. But is it a great standalone film incorporating a plethora of fantastic filmmaking elements? Indeed it is!
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
Believe it or not, it was a whole twenty moons ago that one of the best horror comedies graced the screen—(yes, 2004 really was that long ago). Edgar Wright’s Shaun of the Dead is a bonafide classic whose edgy humour, offensive charm, and bloodied zombie mayhem have cemented its zealous reputation all these years later.
Wright’s prized status began in the early 2000s thanks to his directorial efforts in Spaced, a British comedy series starring Simon Pegg, Nick Frost and Jessica Hynes, all of whom feature in Shaun of the Dead. It was from Spaced where Wright and Pegg conceived the idea of their soon-to-be horror hit. It is based on an episode titled ‘Art’, which features Pegg’s character hallucinating a zombie invasion after a prolonged session playing Resident Evil 2. With the pair both being major appreciators of the genre, the duo took their idea of hilarious zombie antics to Film4 before the studio eventually overly condensed the budget and, therefore, broke down certain crucial plot points. With a dream in mind, Wright refused to quit his zombie feature and pursued various studios over a two-year period before Working Title Films finally invested.
The project soon gained traction, casting major names in comedy from television series such as Black Books and The Office. Actors included Peter Serafinowicz, Dylan Moran, Tamsin Greig, Martin Freeman and Lucy Davis, alongside major names in feature films such as Penelope Wilton and Bill Nighy. The star-studded lineup also included a mass of extras playing the ghouls, nearly all of whom were part of fan communities for Spaced that were contacted on their online threads to be a part of a production from the makers of their favourite TV show. With a solid cast and crew, the nine-week filming process began before wrapping up and premiering at a whopping 367 cinemas and staying in the box office top ten for a total of five whole weeks.
It’s safe to say that audiences went wild for this raucous zombie flick, with its reputation only growing stronger yearly. As it nears its twentieth anniversary, Shaun of the Dead is still making waves, dominating the discourse of satirical horror and creating conversations in the landscape of cinema. In the world of scholarly research and film readings, Shaun of the Dead has dipped its toes into many analytical waters. A popular take is how the film joins the barrage of apocalypse-themed releases from the mid-2000s in response to world events that were becoming frequent in the home with the increasing access to media and news.
Others suggest that the film is a poetic example of transnational cinema which is commonly found within the UK. The leading players of zombie cinema primarily originated from across the pond, with the likes of George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead (1968) dictating the direction that zombie media followed for years. On the flip side, in Britain, there has been a constant ode to men in comedy who can’t help but make a fool of themselves as they go about gallivanting and making a ruddy nuance of situations – think the likes of Monty Python, Dad’s Army, Only Fools and Horses etc. The combination of Americanised scares and dramatic monstrous ghouls with two-bit but still chucklesome characters makes Shaun of the Dead attract an admiration that many budding filmmakers admire to achieve one day.
Stepping away from the formalities, Shaun of the Dead thrives in its thematics and ideologies. Shaun of the Dead has a monotonous, gritty quality that takes a slice-of-life approach to an apocalyptic situation, reminiscent of the ‘Keep Calm and Carry on’ motto burned through the British mindset. It was through this niche characteristic that the film’s lampoon-like comedy was able to shine through. As a case in point, whilst writing the script, Wright took inspiration from his own sardonic attitude at times; after having his own late-night gaming session being immersed in the world of horror video games, he took to going for an early morning walk where it could be imagined that half of the public was either coming home dazed from a late night out, or exhaustively treading along, gearing up for the morning shift at work. It’s a scene of mundanity at its finest. With Wright’s brilliant, dry humour at hand, he couldn’t help but think how on Earth Britain would, with all of its chaos and caustic disposition, react if their early morning shenanigans were interrupted by a plague of flesh-hungry undead creatures.
Discussing Shaun of the Dead without mentioning a certain dessert-named cinematic series would be criminal. This zom-com is the first entry into the acclaimed and fantastically named ‘The Three Flavours Cornetto Trilogy’, followed by the ‘great er good’ Hot Fuzz (2007) and the sci-fi-esque The World’s End (2013). Ironically, the coining of the Cornetto only came to fruition long after Shaun of the Dead’s release; It was during the promotional stages of Hot Fuzz, where Cornetto’s were given as an aperitif, that led to Pegg and Wright wanting to include the beloved ice cream treat into further films. It may seem akin to a superficial, silly joke, yet the rambunctious nature of developing inside jokes led to the trilogy, particularly Shaun of the Dead, retrospectively developing an intriguing interpretation. The films are all comprised of out of their depth individuals tackling a massive issue at hand and growing as people, but not necessarily (and comedically deliberate) maturing in their adolescent-like ways.
The development of Shaun of the Dead includes a comic strip titled ‘There’s Something About Mary’ for 2000 AD, the applauded comic magazine. Following this was IDW Publishing’s several-issue adaptation of the horror, with drawings from Zack Howard and writings by Chris Ryall. That’s not to mention the various special edition physical media releases and collectable action figures. Alongside this was Clark Collis’ book ‘You’ve Got Red on You: How Shaun of the Dead Was Brought to Life’ (2021), which details interviews with cast and crew, storyboards and behind-the-scenes insights.
Even just a few years back, the humble humour of Shaun of the Dead shone once again during the lockdown periods in the UK, with Shaun’s iconic ‘plan’ becoming somewhat of a motto for folks at home. For reminder’s sake, Shaun comes up with a simple action plan to tackle the ole zombie issue: “Take car. Go to Mum’s. Kill Phil-“Sorry”-grab Liz, go to the Winchester, have a nice cold pint, and wait for all of this to blow over”. The short, snappy and quintessentially British dialogue resurfaced via Pegg and Frost themselves as they put a modern spin on the plan by putting emphasis on staying home (avoiding the Winchester this time).
Shaun of the Dead’s legacy speaks for itself, with nearly every ‘best of horror’ list devoting a spot to this must-see film. This immeasurably hilarious take on a monster movie still garners a laugh-a-minute reaction from viewers, no matter how many times they’ve pressed play on this unmissable, culturally significant, and pivotal piece of cinema.
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
Spring’s new psychological horror feature ‘Immaculate’ sees Sydney Sweeney star as Sister Cecelia, a devout nun who finds herself trapped in a secluded convent in the Italian countryside. Fighting for her life, Sister Cecelia finds herself subjected to experiments orchestrated by the church in an attempt to bring about the second coming.
‘Immaculate’ explores themes of isolation, misplaced faith, and the duplicitous nature of the seemingly beautiful. Sweeney provides an electric performance that encapsulates the tipping point between sheer terror and blind rage, carrying the audience with her through a dark and at times gruesome journey of Sister Cecelia’s self discovery and relationship with her faith.
Sister Cecelia, a young, fresh faced religious girl, embarks on a new chapter of her life as she travels to Italy to work as a carer providing end of life care for old, sick nuns. She found her faith after a near death experience in her childhood; she now follows God as she believes that he saved her that day to serve a purpose, but she is yet to discover what that purpose may be. Upon arrival in Italy, Sister Cecelia detects an unsettling atmosphere which shrouds the convent.
After blacking out on her first night she soon discovers that she has become pregnant through a seemingly Immaculate conception. Sister Cecelia was guided to the convent by her faith in God and was consequently expected to put her trust into his representatives on earth. However, after it is discovered that she is the subject of a cruel and inhumane experiment, it is clear that Sister Cecelia’s faith was misplaced, not with God, but with those who follow him and twist their beliefs to justify their own heinous agendas.
(Variety 2024)
We learn early on that Father Tedeschi – the Priest who summoned Cecelia to the convent in the first place – devoted two decades of his life to the field of biology before he found his own place amongst the church. It isn’t until later that we discover Father Tedeschi was shunned from the profession due to conducting unethical experiments.
Once we learn the truth behind Sister Cecelia’s pregnancy it is clear that the purpose which Father Tedeschi and the rest of the convent serve is not in fact God’s but their own. They attempt, in the name of God, to engineer a biologically perfect replication of Christ and believe that he will be their saviour and wash away their sins. The convent firmly believes what they’re doing is for the greater good because, as stated by the Cardinal, “If this is not the will of God, why does he not stop us?”.
Yet, the fact that Father Tedeschi uses eugenics to force the creation of a Messiah opposes the Christian belief that Christ will rise again at the right time. We can also then see how the title, ‘Immaculate’ serves two meanings: firstly, it denotes the idea of an immaculate conception and secondly, it represents the attempt to design a genetically perfect foetus carried by the perfect vessel – Sister Cecelia – destined to become a faultless religious figure.
(Screenrant, 2024)
The setting of ‘Immaculate’ is another important element of the film as it embodies one of the main motifs – darkness masked by beauty. We are provided with a plethora of shots both inside and outside of the convent, depicting both the architectural and natural beauty of the Italian scenery. These shots however are lengthy and linger in certain rooms and corridors. This gives us the foreboding impression that there is something lurking in the convent, a malevolent force or motive hiding amongst the picturesque dressing of this religious building.
Similarly, when Sister Cecelia first arrives at the convent she is sweet, innocent and devout. However, once under threat she is capable of embracing the darkness emanated by the convent and doing whatever it takes in order to survive. Finally, a bible quote hidden on the wall of Sister Cecelia’s bedroom – “And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light” – foreshadows the duplicitous nature of Sister Cecelia’s baby suggesting that it has the potential to be a force of evil, disguised as a miracle.
(Discussing Film, 2024)
‘Immaculate’ provides a thrilling cinematic experience bringing audiences along for a ride full of gut wrenching twists and abhorrent revelations. The film emphasises the idea that a person’s faith is uniquely their own; a relationship with God should be an individual experience, not dictated by anyone or by an alternative motive. Sydney Sweeney perfectly captures Sister Cecelia’s journey in discovering that God’s purpose for her is to choose her own path. ‘Immaculate’ is a must-see new horror flick and a perfect combination of a harrowing conspiracy and the prevail of a person’s faith in themself.
Hope Lelliott-Stevens
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
Sinister has a brilliant and justifiable setup for many jumpscares to ensue, with Ethan Hawke’s character discovering a box of Super 8 films revealing a plethora of families’ grisly deaths. Many of these evil tapes are shown, showcasing drownings, hangings, and a string of other cruel fates. However, one tape, in particular, is still wedged in the back of many viewers’ minds twelve years on. The lawnmower tape displays an unknown person (later revealed to be a child!) grabbing a red lawnmower from a dark shed before mowing over grass in the pitch-black night, with the only morsel of light coming from the glow of the recording flash. Sounds of white-noise-like fuzziness play ominously over the confusing scene before the camera’s warm glow shows a person bound to the ground as the mower lashes over them with a fierce suddenness accompanied by an ear-drum bursting screech. The scene is an exercise of the classic jumpscare, brimming with brutally loud sounds and a terrifying image, yet it does not feel archetypal and expected; instead, the setup combined with the payoff is exactly how a quick jumpscare should be done.
2- Clown mask – Hell House LLC (Stephen Cognetti, 2015)
Is Hell House LLC one of the best horror films of the last decade? It might be a bold statement considering all of the fantastic films to come from this period. Yet, many a contemporary horror fan would state that Stephen Cognetti’s contributions are undeniably superb, mainly thanks to his filmography’s ability to turn every morsel of screentime into a bone-chilling expedition of great extremes. A scene in testament to this is the ‘What’re you looking at?’ scare, where a member of the haunted house comes across a demonic figure, believing it to be his friend dressed up in an eerily creepy clown suit. The true horror of the scene comes from the audience’s knowledge that this figure is not a friendly familiar but a hellish being donned in a black and white fairground suit and mask. We feel the tension bloom as the cast member comfortably stands beside his supposed friend and casually talks to it. It is not a scene where loud screams blare, or a monster leaps out. It is a simple setup with an excellent culmination to the terrifying film.
3- Camera closeup – Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum (Jung Bum-shik, 2018)
The South Korean footage horror entered screens with immediate success, coming in first at the box office on the same day of its release. Its ‘must-see’ reputation grows yearly, with the film now being one of the highest-grossing films in the country, just behind the classic A Tale of Two Sisters (2003). Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum is somewhat of a slow burn, taking its time to build trepidation before unleashing its ferocious force onto the unsuspecting viewer. There are countless incidences where you will find yourself watching the screen between peaked fingers over the eyes, but the one scene that continuously creeps up on jumpscare compilations is the ‘ultra-close up shot’. In traditional found footage fashion, the firsthand camera, in this instance, comes from the fisheye lens on a GoPro, which is mounted to the head of its user. The user in question experiences possession by a malicious spirit, turning her mouth into a menacing grim, complete with black irises and an air of pure wickedness. The intensity of the fright primarily originates from the twisted complexion that the fisheye lens provides; it’s an image straight from the uncanny valley, especially when paired with the unhuman odd squealing noise that the character makes.
4- The first appearance – I Am a Ghost (H.P. Mendoza, 2012)
I Am a Ghost remains criminally underrated despite its truly nightmarish conclusion. Describing the film can come across as a disservice. Nothing happens for the majority of the film. There are no grand acts of terror, and a monotonous routine takes precedence for the most part. However, this stagnantness is where the horror excellence shines. I Am a Ghost follows a woman from an indeterminable era in a large Victorian house, all by herself, as she goes about her daily routine of waking up, making breakfast, walking around the house, and so forth. However, something is off, a stringent atmosphere become apparent, but the force of strain is revealed ever so delicately and subtley. Yet, when the clock strikes and the realisation hits, we are met with an ungodly reign of terror in the form of a chilling creature-like demon whose appearance is a psychical shock in terms of its sheer spectacle but also an emotional jolt due to the sudden interruption into the banal, mundane tone that was at play for the majority of the film.
5- Night vision – The Descent (Neil Marshall, 2005)
The Descent’s unbreakable reputation still stands today due to Neil Marshall’s impeccable timing of frights, scares and gore galore. The night vision scene occurs deep under an unknown cave system amidst columns of sharp, pointed stalactites and hundreds of animal bones. Darkness prevails, and panic sets in for the spelunking group, who are becoming increasingly aware of their entrapment. Their access to night vision only provides a feeble attempt of sight, but what it does pick up is a daunting image of the humanoid creature known as a ‘Crawler’ standing over them, waiting to catch their prey. Upon discovery, all hell breaks loose, and the group’s tortuous journey to their gruesome deaths begins. It’s everything one could wish for in a jumpscare – disquieting tension, limited vision, an almighty scream and a powerful scare.
6- Car window – Smile (Parker Finn, 2022)
A common conception about contemporary horror cinema is that they are predictable with one too many jumpscares. And whilst that sentiment may ring slightly true, there are plenty of films which exercise an abundance of jumpscares with brilliance—an example of this being Smile. Parker Finn’s feature debut’s standout scene, which took many by surprise, is the ‘car window’ snippet. The jolting clip shows a woman running to a car window, only for her torso to fill the car window, and her neck to seemingly contort and hang low, pushing her twisted expression into the glass and showcasing an awfully horrid smile.
7- ‘The Mother’ – Barbarian (Zach Cregger, 2022)
The payoff from Barbarian’s ‘big’ jumpscare is all in the buildup, which takes up the majority of the first half of the film. Whilst details will be kept sparse, throughout Barbarian we are unsure as to who or what will go wrong, who to trust and when the horror will unfold. Meaning that the grand reveal of the mysterious titular creature behind all the terror is all the more effective. What also propels this particular Barbarian scare to gold status is how it changes the film’s method of horror. The likes of Smile and Sinister use quick scares to retrieve a response. Meanwhile, Barbarian and I Am a Ghost utilise a general sense of devilment to entice a reaction. Barbarian often employs atmospheric dread to create fear, making this unforeseen monstrous appearance all the more frantic.
8- I Saw Her Face – The Ring (Gore Verbinski, 2002)
Gore Verbinski’s adaption of the Japanese classic Ringu (1998) is an example of a remake done right. There are countless instances where the film takes us on a frightening ride, but there is one scene that stands out amongst them all – the infamous ‘I Saw Her Face’ extract. During a somber funeral service for a young girl hit by the tragedy of The Ring’s lore, the victim’s mother tells of her heartbreak and sudden death of her daughter. The scene is one of solemn and tenderness, mourning the sadness of a life lost, however, in an attack of complete sporadicalness the camera cuts to the girl hunched dead inside a closet, mouth gaping open, eyes drooped and bruised skin. Brutal, bold and beyond bone-chilling.
9- The Haunting of Hill House (Mike Flanagan, 2018)
Mike Flanagan is the ultimate horror connisseur, what with being a known avid horror fan, which continuously shows through his extensive filmography. Although The Haunting of Hill House is not a film but mini-series, it truly is a cinematic masterpiece. The show as a collective nails the art of a jumpscare. It features scenes of brief, sudden thwacks with booming sounds providing plenty of nerve jolting attacks to the senses. On the flip side, there is an equal amount of long, dreary, shocks that unnerve as much as they panic. Whilst there are too many scenes to pin the precise focal point, a few masterly frights include every appearance of the Bent Neck Lady and the ‘car scare’.
10- Hide and Clap – The Conjuring (James Wan, 2013)
To set the scene, a mother and child are playing the hide and clap game, which is akin to a Marco-Polo, hide and seek activity. In an attempt to locate the hider, the seeker (the mother) follows the claps, leading her to the entryway of the basement. Now in complete darkness with only a small glow lighting up her face, she waits for the next clap, only for the silence to be broken by a clap from right behind her. Loud screams and panic ensues, but the real reaction comes from the slow buildup, shivering in anticipation waiting for a clap to appear out from knowhere and cut the unbeliviably thick tension.
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
Imaginary is Jeff Wadlow’s latest collaboration with Blumhouse Productions, following from their previous combined projects, Fantasy Island (2020) and Truth or Dare (2018). Like every production house, there are filmic expectations, whether that be the dizzyingly raucous films from Troma Entertainment or the moody existentialist slow-burners from A24. And whilst Blumhouse has produced some utterly fantastic horrors such as The Bay (2012), Creep (2014), Get Out (2018), and Soft and Quiet (2022), the studio has more often than not come under fire for spewing out banal, cliched movies that lack any air of originality. Unfortunately, their latest venture, Imaginary, has hit screens with an overwhelmingly negative response thanks to its underdeveloped, muddled storyline and humdrum attempts to scare.
Generically, Imaginary follows Jessica (DeWanda Wise), a children’s author who returns to her childhood home with her stepdaughters, Alice (Pyper Braun) and Taylor (Taegen Burns). However, chaos ensues when Alice discovers a stuffed teddy bear named Chauncey.
With this in mind, the narrative has ample potential to be something eerie and dark, a tale of childhood frights and how they seep into the psyche. Yet, one of the film’s significant downfalls is how the ‘could-be-great’ capabilities are lost in all of the hullabaloo. In a nutshell, Jessica’s repressed childhood has unknowingly clouded most of her life and affected her more than she could have ever imagined; there is an unnecessary backstory surrounding Alice and Taylor’s troubled mother, which is joined by yet another subplot of this underground-like world called the ‘Never Ever’ that Chauncey unleashes. The story is further complicated by the fact that Chauncey’s physical materiality is a fabrication of Jessica and Alice’s minds, making frequent appearances to others somewhat confusing. Imaginary really outdoes itself because it cannot make up its mind, with underplots, lore, secondary storylines and tangled conclusions all fighting for attention for the entire film.
The oversaturation is not offbeat or theatrical, where the excessiveness plays off as humorous or loveable enough to create a fanbase, as seen in the likes of 2023’s M3gan. Alternatively, Imaginary’s capacity to grasp its gratuitous plot and develop any sense of charm is completely missed.
Furthering the vapidness is the almost nonsensical dialogue that features throughout. The lead actors, particularly Wise, are equipped with all the tools to make the film excel, yet the robotic script dulls any sparkle and makes not just the character’s physical actions confusing but also makes every monologue and essential piece of exposition fail. Take the character of Gloria (Betty Buckley), Jessica’s neighbour, whose sole purpose is to be an exposition provider. It is not uncommon for films to dedicate a scene for the lead to decipher the origins that are plaguing their situation. However, Gloria’s delivery of the backstory is akin to that of a wiki article. It’s a monotonous speech that reels off a PowerPoint presentation to Chauncey’s motives.
The singular hook that barely keeps Imaginary in the loop is the creature design of Chauncey when he enters beast-mode. His small teddy bear frame becomes towering, with his eyes shedding the shiny plastic beads, becoming bright red, and his sewn-shut mouth ripping open to reveal gnarly fangs. What makes this all the more impressive is that Chauncey’s form was created mainly using practical effects and animatronic tricks. These effects were created by none other than Spectral Motion, an effects design team that is known for their brilliant work on the likes of Stranger Things (2016-). If Imaginary had featured more of Chauncey’s dark side and beastly form, then the film’s overall themeatics would have had the opportunity to materialise.
The film could have utilised its undertones and portrayed the manipulation of reality, how psychological illusions and repression lead to the destruction of the self. Chauncey’s villainy could have propelled the film away from its continuous jumpscare tactics and led the way with a more piercing take on the human condition if the script had been stripped back and allowed the effectiveness of its story beats and antagonist to shine.
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
Bumps in the dark and strange creatures are brilliant devices used by many filmmakers. Nevertheless, it is often rare that there comes about a film that employs these facets with such power that it will leave you not just fully engrossed in the on-screen magic but also enthralled by the sheer capacity to frighten. Dutch Marich’s Horror in the High Desert (2021) and its equally haunting sequel Horror in the High Desert 2: Minerva (2023) is an exercise in visceral found footage cinema that deserves to be registered as one of the greats.
The first entry chronicles the disappearance of hiker Gary Hinge (Eric Mencis), who went missing in the summer of 2017 after hiking in the Great Basin Desert, Nevada. For the first time since the tragedy, family and friends are interviewed, recalling the horrific events and the terrifying conclusion of what happened in the high desert.
At first glance, Horror in the High Desert’s stylistic choices may seem to emulate the found footage storytelling device as seen countless times before. However, the complexity Marich exerts throughout propels the aspect of the first-hand camera into new and exciting territory that imposes an awfully stringent omnipotent force. The film takes inspiration from the authenticity of documentary filmmaking, featuring interviews and archival footage, and presents its facts on screen as if learnt in real-time whilst editing a supposedly real documentary on a genuine case. It is an intoxicatingly fascinating approach to horror that has been excellently handed in the likes of The Blair Witch Project (1999) and Lake Mungo (2008), with the product having an undictated tonality, where the events unravel in real time, making the finished content much more authentically coded and therefore tenfolds more terrifying.
With all these hyperrealist intentions, exploring the film’s visual aesthetics is crucial. Night vision is a potent aspect that Marich amalgamates to extradite a deeply intrinsic fear held within us. What we can’t see is always scarier; the dark figures hiding behind pillars and the whispers of entities are more often than not more startling than the constant exposure of the antagonising force. Marich heavily enlists this ‘less is more approach’ during the film’s final act, which shows the last footage from Gary shoots on his camcorder. Supposedly alone in the dark heights of the isolated desert, Gary captures a deserted cabin surrounded by sparse trees, all washed in total darkness, naked to the human eye, except for the camera’s night vision capabilities.
Fear is survival. It is a preservation instinct that keeps us alive. We become near defenceless when we are denied light and are steeped in the darkness, unable to see the predatory threats. Horror in the High Desert, throughout its conclusion, calls upon this evolutionary cycle to enhance our senses and thus force us to look at the screen, taking in every frame to see where the monstrousness lies, pay audible attention to every branch stepped on to determine how close menace is to our surroundings and ultimately force us to watch on as the gruelling events unfold. In tandem, the close bond developed by the first-hand diegetic camera thrusts our perspective to be at one with Gary, fully and brutally immersing us in his position throughout this bone-chilling sequence.
Identifying an immersed spectatorial experience and the discharge of all-consuming darkness that entices a haptic touch towards the film translates to Horror in the High Desert’s corpus that stimulates folkloric-based rhetoric. This idea of lore and mystery is presented heavily throughout the sequel, Horror in the High Desert 2: Minerva. Featuring a similar outline and based in the same context, is a secondary disappearance story focusing on the geological researcher Minerva Sound (Solveig Helene), who relocated to a rural trailer amidst the desert where she documented a string of strange occurrences. Accompanying this are various subplots of other people’s experiences with the ominous area, including the case of the young mother, Ameliana Brasher (Brooke Bradshaw), who goes missing along Highway 50. This is followed by the bodycam footage of Luke Wells (David Nichols Jr.), an EMT who was part of the initial search party for Ameliana.
Minerva’s story unravels slowly, featuring video calls between herself and loved ones concerning the discoveries she has made inside the trailer, such as discarded home video tapes featuring chilling visuals that play out as stalker-like footage, reminiscent of the recordings in The Poughkeepsie Tapes (2007), but with a more covert, suspenseful tone. However, the most macabre discovery is of an unidentified person creeping around the trailer, breathing sluggishly and grunting, “he’s comin’ in..” and “I got one for ya”. It is an eerie sequence enough on its own, yet the true bite comes from its suggestion that whatever wreaks havoc among the high desert is something that is far more sinister than a lone wolf, a night stalker, but instead, an uncanny force that is bigger than us all.
Deepening this are the performances above from the likes of Ameliana and Luke, whose experiences with the land are both utterly perplexing and strikingly frightening. After driving from Las Vegas, Ameliana’s car breaks down, but not to fear; her family has a strategy for this long abandoned stretch of highway; if they do not get home at the specified time, the stranded must wait outside the car until rescue appears. Marich makes brilliant use of the surveillance style of found footage by inserting clips from Ameliana’s dashcam. Details will be spared to avoid spoiling the unforgettable (and frankly nightmare-fueled) surprise. What can be noted is how Marich bravely takes the time not to rush the sequence of Ameliana’s fate. It’s a torturous slow burn that makes the viewer wait in pure fear and trepidation, knowing that Ameliana’s blisteringly gruesome fate will occur at any given moment.
One final punch to the gut is Luke’s bodycam footage, which is an extract that horror filmmakers spend their entire careers learning how to craft, as Marich has done. Again, specifics will be spared in a bid to ‘keep mum’ on the finale. By this process, take heed of this: Luke enters a stranded mining facility in the pitch darkness, having broken his flashlight, unable to see that he is always nearly mere feet away from bumping into a disfigured, unexplainable figure capable of ungodly terror.
Marich has discussed Horror in the High Desert becoming a multi-entried horror series, with the film’s official website confirming that the third edition, Horror in the High Desert 3: Firewatch, is coming soon. Given the excellence of the original and its equally distinctive sequel, Marich is certainly becoming a signature figure in the found footage world, causing waves and creating overwhelmingly smashing cinema.
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
1- The Wolf House (Cristobal León and Joaquin Cociña, 2018)
Kicking off this mind-twisting list is the Chilean stop-motion film The Wolf House. Directed by Cristobal León and Joaquin Cociña and co-written by Alejandra Moffat, is the animated, surreal fairytale that takes the viewer through a mirage of labyrinth-like settings and worlds in a desolate house. The film’s visual incoherence is a guise that shelters and replicates the intense and complex meaning behind the story—inspired by the troubling Colonia Dignidad, a colony established in Chile post WW2 where various acts of torture were committed. The Wolf House’s myriad of madness is captivatingly gruesome, with each scene being near impossible to decode at first glance; for instance, as the meaning behind the house unravels within the story, the bones of its foundations experience a metamorphosis where objects become people and people become animals.
2- Possum (Matthew Holness, 2018)
Akin to the backwards world of British TV series The League of Gentlemen (1999-2002) and infused with a touch of Ben Wheatley’s Neo-folk filmmaking style is the utterly fantastic and incredibly dark Possum. From the mind of director Matthew Holness is the story of a child puppeteer, Philip (Sean Harris), who returns home where he is confronted with his past trauma. The film was adapted from Holness’s short story of the same name that was influenced by the works of Sigmund Freud. Considering this, Possum is brimming with the uncanny, whether that be through the offensively disturbed arachnid puppet that features throughout, or the cold, dismal world that the film takes place in. Possum is one of those films that may be watched a dozen times before one can truly get to grips with every single detail of great emotional significance that seeps throughout every frame.
3- House (Nobuhiko Obayashi, 1977)
House is a kaleidoscopic fever dream that emulates psychedelia with a pungent extremity, with its ethereal quality coming off as both haunting and unreasonably excessive. The hallucinatory facets within House derive from director Nobuhiko Obayashi’s wanting to create a film that goes beyond human understanding, or more accurately, adults’ understanding of the logical world. In creating the script, Obayashi enlisted his daughter’s help where he observed that a child’s imagination conjures the most fascinating of concepts that traverses far beyond the mundanity of what the mature mind summons. With this, House takes aspects of childhood nightmares of colourful monsters and nonsensical scenarios to create a film that is wildly ambitious and genuinely startling.
4- Begotten (E. Elias Merhige, 1989)
Back in the mid 1980s E. Elias Merhige developed an idea for a piece of experimental theatre where live music and dance would be performed against a story of mythology, religion and the disgrace of humanity. Whilst traction was aligned with the project and the concept blossomed, Merhige realised that the production as a live piece of theatre would be too costly, leading to his concept becoming a film. With the knowledge that Begotten’s corpus derived from experimental theatre, it becomes easier to mentally digest the final product, which is by all intents and purposes a complete deluge that resembles a total exodus of reality. The hellish imagery consists of the self-disembowelment of God whose mutilated remains gives birth to Mother Earth before conceiving the ‘Son of Earth’ and going on a surreal, nauseating path of destruction and discovery. Take this rambunctious idea and now imagine it paired with the film’s obtrusive score that runs throughout which features nothing but insect-like squirming noises over a ‘thu-dum’ heartbeat sound. Begotten obliterates normality and acts a sporadic experience from beginning to end.
5- Koko-di Koko-da (Johannes Nyholm, 2019)
Koko-di Koko-da is another Groundhog Day story that chronicles a grieving couple that are stuck in a time loop by nursery rhyme characters. The complex and structurally intricate storyline deliberately never makes sense or fully acknowledges its strangeness, it is just accepted by the cinematic universe, making every confused and disjointed emotion extracted from the viewers all the more disturbing. Paired with the absurdity of the events, there is an overall aggravation towards the antagonising characters. The beings terrorising the couple strive through with a morbid happiness that seems whimsical until we are reminded that this is very much a horrific story.
6- Uzumaki (Higuchinsky, 2000)
Based on the Junji Ito manga of the same name is Uzumaki, a film where atmosphere, aura and an unhinged narrative take over to create a boggling adaption. Uzumaki has received a decent share of criticism over time, partially due to its off-kilter humour that sporadically features throughout, which seems quite out of place. However, it is this strange placement of slapstick comedy that pierces the tension and makes the film an untamed watch where the entire direction of the film is consistently unprecedented. Adding to the peculiarity is the film’s central focus surrounding the spiral pattern and how it essentially drives the characters to the brinks of their psyche. The Fibonacci spiral hysteria twists and turns the story in the most unexpected of ways, leaving for the most memorable of watches.
7- Society (Brian Yuzna, 1989)
The magnificence of body horror is forever in debt to Brian Yuzna’s Society. Yuzna’s epic exploration into the potentials of depravity is an exercise in the brilliance of cinema that doesn’t take itself too seriously, with plenty of amalgamated bodies that fuse flesh to flesh and limb to limb to create a gigantic creature formed by body parts. The aspect of anthropomorphism plays a large role in Society with the monstrosity of the final act being a repulsive feast for the senses. For fans of excessive gore and stomach churning terror, this film is not to be missed!
8- Resurrection (Andrew Semans, 2022)
Despite the brilliance of the leads, Rebecca Hall and Tim Roth, Andrew Semans Resurrection is criminally underrated. Whilst many absurd films tackle obscene comedy to further the surreal nightmarish quality of mind-boggling horror, Resurrection takes a much more gloom-ridden route where the calamitous nature of the film shines alongside the unearthly and bizarre plot points. Whilst the story is best left as an enigma for first time watchers, what can be revealed is that Resurrection follows the disciplined business woman Maggie (Hall), whose life implodes when a strange figure (Roth) from her past comes back to haunt her. The words brutal and cold rings strong throughout this relentless shocker.
9- Visitor Q (Takashi Miike, 2001)
Hmm… where to begin with horror legend Takashi Miike’s Visitor Q? Not for the faint hearted and certainly not a family film is this utterly barbaric and gut-wrenchingly twisted tale of nihilistic dread following the perverted Yamazaki family as they fall apart at the hands of their own lewdness. Themes of incest, voyeurism, sadio-masochism, torture, necrophilia, coprophilia, lactophilia (and copius other ‘philia’ related terms) all take centre stage throughout the film, leaving any seasoned viewer affected, let alone an unsuspecting spectator. However, whilst there is a lot to be said about its extremity, Visitor Q is a fascinating watch, particularly due to its stylistic output. The film mimics documentary footage with the camera acting as a fly on the wall for most scenes, creeping up where you’d least expect it and bringing us uncomfortably close to the experimental action.
10- The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (Robert Wiene, 1920)
German expressionism roots its origins within Berlin circa 1920s as a reflection of the turmoil during that era. Notable films from the period include the likes of Nosferatu (1922), Faust (1926) and most importantly in this case, Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. The film is renowned for its graphic style and striking aura that is straight from the dark underbelly of horror thematics. The set’s were purposefully built to create a dizzying effect where the walls were angled and floors were tilted, where featured trees would appear diagonal and staircases would be spiralized messes. It was a radical decision to portray such a frenzy that still pays off over 100 years later.
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
Friday the 13th – genre-defining, monumental, and dare it be said, ‘totally iconic’. These are just some of the descriptors denoted to this mammoth of a horror franchise. With 12 entries to the series name, it can be challenging to define all of the films; however, amongst all of the slasherific and certainly unique films, there does seem to be an entry that repeatedly stands out. Joseph Zito’s Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (1984).
A group of teens travel to Camp Crystal Lake for a weekend of debaucheries, but things soon go array when Jason Voorhees shows up to his stomping grounds to cause chaos. With this traditional storyline comes a shed of archetypal bloodshed where graphic kills and splatter-filled jumpscares dominate the screen. The Final Chapter is a bonafide classic, but it very nearly ceased to exist as Friday the 13th Part III (1982) was due to complete the Jason trilogy. That was until producer Frank Mancuso, Jr. became hellbent on killing off Jason once and for all. Mancuso worked on both Friday the 13th Part 2 (1981) and Part III, where it was widely reported that he felt his complex and crucial inputs as a production assistant and then producer were not taken seriously enough. In response to this, he recruited Zito, director of the 1981 slasher The Prowler to end the series under his terms. With this, Zito along with Manuso’s backing ended up conjuring one of Friday the 13th’s best films.
Complicit in this reputation is the film’s exceptional imagery that was made at the hands of legendary effects artist, Tom Savini. In The Final Chapter, Savini (known within the Friday the 13th universe for his visceral creation of Jason in the first film), tackled the likes of macheted necks, head twisting, pitchfork stabbings, crucifixion, meat-cleaver hackings and smashed faces. All of these were done with such vivid brutality that elevates the chaotic wildness of it all into genuinely intense, skin-crawling displays of pure depravity that show the brutish capabilities of Jason. Interestingly enough, the film’s evidential flare for the creativity of these depictions goes far beyond the surface, with the film’s primary protagonist having a spiritual tie to Savini.
Although The Final Chapter chronicles the aforementioned quintessential motley crew of youngsters dying at the hands of slasher’s favourite boogeyman, the film has an interwoven secondary line of narrative following the Jarvis family. Residing next door to the teens is Tommy Jarvis (Corey Feldman), his sister Trish (Kimberly Beck), and their mother (Joan Freeman), all of whom must face the wrath of Jason. Tommy’s ability to think on the spot and get inside the mind of Jason has allowed him to become somewhat of a staple member of the franchise, with his character starring in a total of three Friday the 13th films. Throughout his first appearance, Tommy makes quite the impression thanks to his eclectic personality. Tommy has an affinity for all things practical effects, making masks and prosthetics out of anything he could get his hands on, just as it is documented Savini did during his younger years.
Tommy’s blossoming artistry and innovation is what beckons the film’s applauded conclusion. After copious events unfold, a hammer wielding Jason breaks into the Jarvis’, but just as he’s about to land a fatal blow on the terrified Trish, Tommy saves the day. It transpires that Tommy has found old newspaper clippings detailing Jason’s disfigured face and the horrid past that led to his vengeance. In a quick attempt to stir the psyche of the beast, Tommy hastily shaves his head, resembling a young Jason. Despite the grave risk, his plan roars triumphantly as Jason is captured and almost immediately gravitates with a childlike innocence towards Tommy, seeing his younger self alive and well. However, Jason’s fever dream is quickly interrupted as Trish brings down the machete to his head, knocking off his infamous hockey mask to reveal a horribly warped face before he stumbles to the ground as Tommy seemingly reaches madness and further pummels him into oblivion.
Tommy undergoes a terribly traumatic transformation to save the day. Essentially, he becomes one with the monster, which is only exaggerated by his rampant attack, overkill even, on Jason after the villain’s lifeless body flops to the floor. Prior to this scene Tommy discovers the tragic backstory that catalysed Jason’s descent; seeing this paired with his transformation of embodying the monster and then relishing in the demise all unleashes a beast hidden deep within Tommy that may have otherwise remained locked up.
The film’s finale sees Tommy stare blankly into the camera with a chilling coldness that mirrors Jason’s exact dispassion for human existence. The figurative expression towards Jason and Tommy’s symbiosis opens the film up to a world of possibilities that rings familiar to the first Friday the 13th’s retrospective analysis with all of its discussion about the horrors of maternal devotion. The Final Chapter is steeped in a seriousness that is not easy to craft as efficiently and naturally Zito has. The film still has that primitive nastiness to it that has horror hounds howling at the screen, yet the film is not one long novelty act that aims to solely appease the senses. It does not over extend its analytical gravity to the point of pretentiousness, but it is not afraid of baring its teeth and taking a bite into the critical details.
Even from a retrospective point of view, the film exercises a balance that is notoriously difficult to achieve; it creates a world of lore and backstory without over complicating and propelling the film away from its slasher roots that everyone has come to know and love. As of this year, The Final Chapter completes its 40th year around the sun, and yet, the film seems to have only gotten better. It has been a solid 15 years since the last Friday the 13th film was released. Considering that the next entry would be the ‘13th’ number, a possibly brilliant jumping step would be taking inspiration from the absolute fan favourite classic that is Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter…
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
A harmless weekend turns deadly when a Danish couple, Bjørn (Morten Burian) and Louise (Sidsel Siem Koch) and their daughter Agnes (Liva Forsberg) meet up with Patrick (Fedja van Huêt), Karin (Karina Smulders) and Abel (Marius Damslev), a family they met on holiday.
Yelling at the screen and simmering in frustration are common occurrences whilst watching Speak No Evil. But it is this exact vexation that the film thrives in as we are forced to watch deliberate, misinformed choices taking place, all for the characters to fall victim to one of modern horror’s most irrefutably evil couples. Patrick and Karin maliciously play this running game of ‘coincidences’ to play off their subtle, cruel jibes, disorientating the innocent family and forcing them to fall into the true horrific pits of their sinister intentions. Patrick and Karin employ a cold callousness that teases the viewer throughout, where we find ourselves constantly second-guessing whether the pair are building up to an act of violence or whether we are just being paranoid.
2- Henry (Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, 1986)
Following his release from prison, Henry (Michael Rooker) carries on his murderous antics as he goes on a wild and vicious killing spree.
The contentious reputation of Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer is an ode to the pure brutality of the titular character’s actions throughout the film. Acts of depravity from murder, torture and assault all take centre stage throughout the brutish movie; however, whilst these homages to brutalism are entirely shocking, what makes the film so powerful and significant is the nonchalant carelessness that Henry displays. There is no regard given to his devastations, not a thought behind his eyes whilst dicing his way through victims and most importantly, there is no stopping him whatsoever. Henry states that he just moves on from state to state, killing with no particular modus operandi, implying that his limits are unfounded and that he will never be caught.
3- La Tenia (Irréversible, 2002)
Told in reverse order, Irréversible follows the acts of revenge two men commit after the torture and attack of the woman they love.
It would be hard to come by a spectator who was not left feeling emotionally torn after watching Irréversible. The film has become known as one of the more severe mainstream depictions of graphic violence, with the focus of terror being the infamous ‘tunnel scene’ showcasing an abhorrent pimp known as La Tenia (Jo Prestia) pinning down and sodomising Alex (Monica Bellucci), a young woman who was innocently walking past him, minding her own business. Emotions from fury to sickness and then back to anger all flood through us as we see La Tenia spew venomous sentiments at Alex whilst she is laid cold and battered on a dirty Parisian underpass. The camera statically lingers for a dreaded nine whole minutes as La Tenia exercises sheer immorality. Many movie villains are praised and held up as deviant icons within film; however, La Tenia is far from praise, becoming one of cinema’s most abominable monsters ever.
4- Patrick Bateman (American Psycho, 2000)
Patrick Bateman (Christian Bale) is a successful investment banker by day and a murderous psychopath by night whose grip on reality loosens as his habits become increasingly violent.
Patrick Bateman is the personification of arrogance. He views people not as humans but as toys in a treasure chest for him to do whatever he pleases with, whether that be to ridicule their class status or to savagely murder and dismember them. Whichever method of evisceration Bateman chooses, he will do it with a unique poise that ensures he is the most powerful and controlling person in the room. It is this assuredness that makes him overwhelmingly intimidating. Remaining both calm and manic, ruthless and serene, is a quality that makes Bateman stand out amongst the rest.
5- Troubled youth (Eden Lake, 2008)
Jenny (Kelly Reilly) and Steve’s (Michael Fassbender) romantic weekend away is cut short when they cross paths with an enraged group of local teens.
Eden Lake’s state of antagonism is wrapped up with the idea of generational horror. Although the force of horror mainly comes from the terror enforced by the teenagers, the film reveals that the gang’s thirst for trauma is rooted deep within their habitat. Eden Lake concludes with Jenny seeking rescue in a seemingly warming, normal family home, however, it is revealed that the house is occupied by the relatives of the gang she barely escaped from. The manner of the more mature members of the families are worse than that of the youth, exemplifying how nurtured, damaged behaviour is a terrifying cyclic practise.
6- Esther (Ophan, 2009)
A couple gets more than what they bargained for when they adopt Esther (Isabelle Fuhrman), a sweet ‘young’ orphan looking for a new family.
Esther has become synonymous with contemporary horror villainy, with her flawless infiltration system being savagely creative and cruel. As it happens, Esther is not a child but a woman in her thirties with an appetite for destruction. Her caring demeanour and her tragic orphaned backstory make the people in her life fall into her trap, only to ensnare them viscerally. Esther’s story is one that is scarily plausible and unique within the genre, making for a gnarly, fearful watch.
7- Kyung-chul (I Saw the Devil, 2010)
A cat and mouse game ensues after Soo-hyeon’s (Lee Byung-hun) wife and unborn child are found dead at the hands of serial killer, Kyung-chul (Choi Min-sik).
The antagonism exercised by the character Kyung-chul is utterly barbaric and reprehensible. Nothing, no one and no act is off limits for this despicable man. The film depicts each killing with such ferocity that it is nearly impossible not to feel some form of hatred for his character. Accompanying Kyung-chul’s beastliness is the film’s melancholy tones, a quintessential facet of South Korea’s fantastic filmmaking style, with each scene juxtaposing Kyung-chul’s inhuman actions with the audience’s evidential empathy towards his victims.
8- The Poughkeepsie killer (The Poughkeepsie Tapes, 2007)
A serial killer’s life’s work is unleashed as New York detectives find thousands of home videos depicting countless acts of murder, dismemberment and torture.
Although relatively infamous amongst many found footage fans, The Poughkeepsie Tape’s central antagonist (whose identity is never revealed) is rarely discussed regarding their atrocity. The film discloses that their victim count reaches far into the hundreds. Each tape screened revels in the killer’s gratuitous displays of punishment and abuse, with the perpetrator additionally employing disturbing fetishism throughout his inflictions of pain.
9- Mum and Dad (Mum & Dad, 2008)
Lone airport worker Lena (Olga Fedori) is held hostage by a sick and twisted family.
Head of the sadistic family are Mum (Dido Miles) and Dad (Perry Benson), who encompass the epitome of all things grotesque and macabre. Their incestuous attitudes and gleeful will to traumatise leave for an incredibly uncomfortable watch as we see the pair exude delight whilst tormenting the innocent. Adding to the pair’s awfully horrid actions is the film’s bleak and dreary flair that embodies a sense of misanthropic unease, forcing the viewer to wallow away within all of its overarching angst.
10- Chris Cleek (The Woman, 2011)
Whilst out hunting, Chris Cleek (Sean Bridgers) captures an uncivilised woman and brings her to his family home, keeping her tied up in an old out-shack for him to keep as a trophy, doing what he pleases.
Immediately there is a strong sense of banality seeping through Chris’s motives and actions, but what is the real nail in the coffin is how his actions are mimicked by those around him. He nurtures his teenage son to also treat the woman as an object for his desire, with the father son duo feeding from each other’s willingness to harm. Master manipulation and evil toxicity truly is the bread and butter of supposed ‘family-man’ Chris Cleek’s persona.
Want more top horror lists and reviews? Check out our blog here..
