One of the things I think about a lot, when it comes to my personal love of movies, is whether or not it’s too easy for a film to win me over. Whether I like too many movies, have too low a bar for what constitutes a great film. My letterboxd graph is extremely stacked on the right. I rarely find myself disagreeing with public perception of a universally beloved film. Does any of this really matter to me? Do I really want to fault myself for simply finding too many movies good? No, of course not, movies rule and there’s nothing to be proved by hating them to seem like you have taste. Now, this isn’t to say that there aren’t movies I hate (here’s looking at you, Joker). But with these movies, I typically don’t stand alone in my revulsion. I don’t really have too many unpopular film opinions (actually I really like American Hustle and yes I know it’s kind of a piece of junk but still fight me). But for a long time, there was one example I could point to, one thing I could use to prove that I don’t just go with public opinion or just like everything. And that was my undying, virulent hatred of legendary 1974 horror film The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.
I believe I have written about this on here before. I think, in the intro to my horror movie ranking post, I trashed Chain Saw and called it overrated. For well over a year after I first saw it, I was firm in this conviction. I fully believed that The Texas Chain Saw Massacre was pure garbage, among the very worst films I had ever seen. It made no sense to me. I love horror movies, it should’ve been exactly up my alley. It’s universally praised as a classic, a masterpiece even. I wondered why. Why did everyone love it? Why was it so considered a masterpiece? One of the greatest horror movies ever made?
It’s because it is. Sorry, past me. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre is a masterpiece. Typing such a sentence would’ve seemed insane to me as recently as a few weeks ago. But I finally gave into the temptation to watch it again. It had called me for a long time. I had to know if I was really that bad. It is not. It remained in my memory as something far less offensively poorly made and aggressively uninteresting as I had believed it to be after finishing it, which was part of why I chose to go back. I kept going “it can’t be that bad”. Because when I saw it the first time, I really hated it. Couldn’t wait for it to be over. So now, in the wake of my look back at it, I have to wonder why I felt this way.
What I’ve come up with is a multifaceted explanation: the first part is the atmosphere I watched it in, which I will explain in a minute. The second part is how inherently un-cinematic it is, which… I still find to be the case. Only now, I find that it works to the film’s advantage. Again, I will explain why. So the atmosphere. I saw this film as part of a marathon among my friends aimed at helping us filling in our gaps in horror movie knowledge. Texas Chain Saw was one we were especially looking forward to- we had heard, in no uncertain terms, that it was the scariest film ever made. So much so that we gave it prime positioning- the midnight time slot. Among such films as Psycho, Halloween, Rosemary’s Baby, and The Thing, Chain Saw was the most highly anticipated. And we all ended up hating it, after we had loved everything we had seen before it. What I’ve come up with is this: By midnight, we had settled into our groove and gotten more comfortable, bored even. So when Texas Chain Saw rolls around, boasting a budget of about six dollars, poorly conceived characters, and bad acting to boot, we didn’t much care for it. We talked throughout the buildup, and then when the horror started abruptly, we just didn’t stop because we weren’t engaged. It never quite pulled us in, and so we never gave it a chance. This is a lot of what I found odd- for such a universally acknowledged seminal work of film, how did literally all of us hate it? A lot of it has to do with how different it is from what we surrounded it with. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre doesn’t feel like a movie. It doesn’t follow the typical horror beats, of buildup, followed by a burst of horror, then a comedown, then buildup/burst/comedown repeat on and on before reaching the climax, a pure horror. None of that here. Chain Saw simply builds, then it launches headfirst into sheer horror and never comes down. Add that to the ridiculously grainy footage and you’ve got something that doesn’t feel like a film so much as an experience. And if you refuse to experience it properly, of course you’re going to hate it. So when I finally gave it another shot, what I found was new to me, but it didn’t surprise me. I was kind of like “yeah, that makes more sense”.
So what did I find that was different? For one, the buildup works much better than I gave it credit for. Texas Chain Saw hits its atmosphere better than pretty much anything else in existence. You are so immediately immersed into this uneasy world, so that when the killing starts, you’re horrified, but it feels sickeningly in place. The second, and maybe biggest, thing is the first appearance of Leatherface. That’s the moment where it becomes clear what you’re watching, that you’re seeing something you shouldn’t be. The first time I saw it, I felt it was too low key, not flashy or scary enough. It’s all part of the film’s rejection of the fantastical in favor of gritty realism. It’s so simple- Leatherface pops out, smashes his prey with a hammer, grabs his body, and leaves, ducking back into his cattle-skull-adorned little room. It’s pure hell, and a fitting glimpse of what’s about to happen. From then on it’s ruthless. The dread and intensity never let up, you never get a break from the atrocities unfolding before your eyes. It’s the essence of horror distilled down to a pure form that’s present in nothing else. It’s one of the great achievements in horror because it’s so uncompromising. There’s no escape or even a brief respite from any of this. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre tells you that you are going to stare into the darkest depths of hell and you are going to suffer and you are going to like it. It’s incredible, and it’s something I regret spending so much time not loving.
So goodbye, hatred of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. You were one of the most interesting cinematic opinions I had, even if you were tremendously misguided and ignorant. I will miss you. And hello, love of The Texas Chain Saw Massacre. You truly further my love of horror movies and film itself. You’re objectively the correct opinion, and very much the more fun one. I look forward to a lifetime of feeling about this movie the way everyone else does- with the reverence and awe that it commands.
Over the last few months, John Carpenter has rapidly become one of my favorite directors. Prior to last halloween, I had only seen two of his films. Then I watched The Fog and ventured into a rabbit hole of horror, action, and Kurt Russell. 10 movies later, I have surrendered to my natural impulses and ranked them all before I’ve finished his entire body of work (which I intend to do rapidly and will update this accordingly). So far, of all the movies of his I’ve seen, exactly zero are anywhere close to bad, and- to some degree- I love all of these. So enjoy as I attempt to fashion a coherent list out of these incredible movies.
12- Dark Star (1974)
I have a really big soft spot for Dark Star, Carpenter’s ugly, half-baked debut. Objectively speaking, it’s almost definitely a bad movie, and as such I really can’t justify putting it higher simply to prove a point. But MAN it is JUST SO WEIRD. Carpenter and screenwriter Dan O’Bannon (who would go on to write a little film called Alien) fashion an utterly bizarre response to the cultural craze for space movies. Pictured above is the alien antagonist of the film (quite obviously massively superior to the equivalent creature in O’Bannon’s later masterwork), and yes, it is a red beach ball with feet. It wreaks havoc on the titular ship, which basically amounts to mildly annoying the bored crew until they kill it. Then the movie just proceeds on to the next thing. There’s no real plot so much as there is a collection of ideas, reminiscent a bit of the Monty Python movies. There’s a talking bomb with an existential crisis (truly one of the best characters in Carpenter’s vast oeuvre), O’Bannon himself plays a member of the crew who’s not supposed to be there (outstandingly, I might add), and there’s a pervasive malaise that haunts over the whole thing and distinguishes it from its contemporaries. It’s also ridiculously quotable (“Now it’s time to go sleepy-bye, you worthless piece of garbage”, “How are the Dodgers doing”, “Teach it… p h e n o m e n o l o g y“). At least, it is if you have a terrible sense of humor and an extreme dedication to randomly quoting movies. Also, Benson, Arizona, the film’s theme song, is impossible to fully drive from your head. There’s just so much here to obsess over, and it’s a massive shame that it hasn’t become the cult classic it deserves to be. I love it so much. If only it were better.
11- Escape From New York (1981)
Here’s a controversial ranking. Like I said, I love all of these, it’s just that this is one of the ones I love least. It certainly gets points for being the coolest conceptually: the idea of Manhattan being turned into a maximum security prison is a fascinating idea (and one that is expanded upon sufficiently in this film without ever going overboard), and Snake Plissken’s (Kurt Russell) quest is constructed for maximum tension. The film maintains a truly intense atmosphere despite its total insanity: this is a film where Isaac Hayes, playing the “Duke of New York”, drives around in a car with chandeliers on its hood, and Donald Pleasance plays the President of the United States with a British accent- and somehow makes it work. Everyone performs with the required aplomb. Lee Van Cleef (!) menaces around the screen in the style that built him a career. Harry Dean Stanton (!!!!!) applies his trademark neuroticism to great effect. And of course there’s Kurt Russell. Russell’s Snake Plissken (what a name) is one of his most iconic characters (although in my opinion he’s the weakest of his three Carpenter antiheroes, behind Burton and MacReady). The film’s top selling point, however, is how fully fleshed out the world of New York is. The song “Everybody’s Coming to New York”, sung early on with delirious and ironic glee by a group of prisoners, exemplifies this: it shows how these people live, their need for entertainment, their thoughts on their current situation, and how much time they have on their hands to effectively craft a theme song for their prison state. Escape From New York is excellent, so why is it so low? The other films on this list just happen to be more excellent.
10- They Live (1988)
What could’ve been a ridiculous B-movie with a ridiculous premise, starring a pro wrestler, and featuring some of the cheesiest one liners ever put to film is… actually just that. Except that ridiculous premise is translated into still-relevant social commentary, said pro wrestler gives an amazing performance, and the one liners are AWESOME (“all out of bubblegum” gets all the attention, and deservedly so, but don’t sleep on “life’s a bitch, and she’s back in heat”). There are many things that make They Live work: several specific scenes still stand out, such as the epic six-minute back alley brawl scene between Roddy Piper and Keith David, and the scene where Piper puts the glasses on for the first time. Although not a particularly subtle movie, its frustration with the world and the way the system works makes it fascinating to watch today. It’s told with the economy of time and efficiency of storytelling and exposition that Carpenter is better at than anyone ever. Plus, it all concludes with the absolute funniest five or so seconds of possibly any movie (or at least any horror/horror adjacent movie).
(It’s worth noting that this is the only movie on this list that I’ve gotten blocked on twitter by an idiot over. 10/10 would do again.)
9- In the Mouth of Madness (1994)
The final chapter of Carpenter’s “Apocalypse Trilogy” is its weakest, although it isn’t by any means a weak film. It features a brilliant Sam Neill as an insurance investigator drawn into a web of paranormal occurrences surrounding the disappearance of a massively popular horror author. This writer, named Sutter Cane, has been known to create work that drives its readers insane, and his latest could have potentially disastrous ramifications. Your mileage on In the Mouth of Madness will vary- it’s one of the most polarizing Carpenter films. In my mind, it all comes down to how you feel about the “Did I ever tell you my favorite color was blue?” scene:
If you find the scene to be ridiculous and nonsensical, you may not like the film (although it does work better in context). If you (correctly) find it to be brilliant, demonstrating the power of Cane in an original visually inventive way, you’ll love this movie. As you should. The rapid deterioration of the plot into total lunacy (literally) is something to behold, the acting is excellent, and it’s scary! Really, honestly scary! The guy on the bike! The inescapable portal back to Hobb’s End! The scenes at the church! It’s all so good. Also, the final scene is just unbelievable. Carpenter’s films routinely have great last scenes or shots, and this is absolutely no exception.
8- Starman (1984)
Starman is completely unlike any other film on this list, which is both its greatest strength and most unavoidable weakness. Carpenter here is outside of his comfort zone, abandoning high-concept scifi/action/horror for… well it’s a high concept scifi film, but not in any sort of recognizable way beyond the premise. It concerns an alien (Jeff Bridges, excellent) who comes to earth and takes the form of the recently deceased husband of a woman (Karen Allen, equally if not more excellent), who he then essentially holds captive and forces her to drive him to Arizona so he can get back home. Along the way, however, she finds herself drawn to him. Maybe it’s because of his total foreignness, or maybe she’s just working through her grief. It’s probably both. The film is a rich examination into this character and her inner workings, and ends up as an indelible meditation on loss that just happens to be a solidly cheesy 80s movie. But it’s not as egregiously offensive as say, Big Trouble in Little China (much much higher on this list) in the 80s cheese department, and once you strip away the thin layer of dairy there’s an emotional goldmine in Starman.
7- The Fog (1980)
This one’s a personal favorite of mine, and it does hurt not to be able to rank it higher. The Fog is just under 90 minutes of pure B-horror glory, elevated to something brilliant by Carpenter’s mastery. The visual prowess of cinematographer Dean Cundey (specifically the shots of the ocean) combined with Carpenter’s horror direction at its peak create an experience that, although not altogether unique, is relentlessly entertaining and pretty scary. The genius lies in the monsters, however. The ghost pirates terrorizing the residents of Antonio Bay are kept deliberately shrouded in the titular fog, and it creates a truly spooky film. Plus there’s a fascinating political subtext and one of the greatest final shots in existence. Overall there are far greater films on this list, but there are few that are just this good.
6- Assault on Precinct 13 (1976)
Most of Carpenter’s films have an element of fun. It’s not exactly that they’re lighthearted films- take Halloween or The Thing, both deeply serious films that are elevated to exhilarating by their total insanity. There is none of that in Assault on Precinct 13. This is a disturbingly down-to-earth film filled with brutal violence. From the moment you witness the nonchalant shooting of a little girl, you recognize that this is not your typical John Carpenter movie. Ostensibly an action film (based off a western, which gives it some of those qualities), this comes closer to a horror movie in a lot of ways. The gang members invading the eponymous police precinct resemble zombies in the way that they just keep coming, laying waste to their target with no regard for their own well-being. This is a gritty, bleak movie, and a lot of its excellence lies in the ability of Carpenter to communicate that. The deft handling of racial tension here is impressive, especially for 1976. It’s clearly a political statement, yet like most of Carpenter’s work, it can be reveled in without paying any mind to that subtext. The acting is impressive, the direction is stellar (especially once the characters are trapped in a single location for the back half of the film), and the runtime (91 minutes) is tight enough that it never drags. Also, one of the prisoners is played by Tony Burton, best known for his pained plea to “throw the damn towel” in Rocky IV (well, really his entire role in those movies, but there’s no moment more memorable than that).
5- Prince of Darkness (1987)
Scarier than any movie about a cylinder of goo that is also Satan has any right to be. You read that correctly- Prince of Darkness is about a priest who finds a giant jar of sludge in the basement of a church and, using the help of a world-renowned professor and his students, determines that it contains the devil himself. Then the Satan Goo starts attacking and possessing people, and the students find themselves trapped inside the church, fighting for their lives. Why are they trapped inside the church, you may ask? Well that’s because a group of seemingly schizophrenic homeless people are waiting outside, ready to kill anyone who tries to leave. Also their leader is played by Alice Cooper. This movie rules. Dennis Dun, Wang in Big Trouble in Little China, brings the charisma of that role to this one, firing off witty one liners (“Anyone ever tell you you could pass for Asian?”) to provide some much-needed comic relief in the face of impending doom. This is a film where insects crawl out of people’s bodies, people are stabbed with bicycle parts, and characters are transformed into subhuman monsters before our eyes. It’s a truly frightening and upsetting film, and a total masterpiece in a way that nobody but John Carpenter could accomplish.
4- Christine (1983)
This film is an oddity in Carpenter’s body of work, as it isn’t really his story. It’s a Stephen King adaptation, and as such King’s fingerprints are all over it. The characters are King characters, the premise is a King premise, and the themes are King themes. Yet none of it would work without Carpenter. It may be King’s story, but it’s Carpenter’s film. One of the two major things that shocked me about Christine was just how much Carpenter put into it: the direction has a million little subtleties and minor decisions that make it work. In fact, it might be his best-directed film. The other major thing that shocked me about Christine? It’s a masterpiece. It could’ve been a run of the mill early-80s King adaptation, a cheesy story about a haunted car that goes around killing people. It could’ve easily done that. But instead it’s a brilliant odyssey of teenage anger and human self-destruction. These characters are real people who go through real changes and experience real emotion. This movie is profound, it’s raw, it makes you feel more than a movie about an evil car has any right to. This is an incredible film, and one of the best Stephen King adaptations ever.
3- Big Trouble in Little China (1986)
We come now to my personal favorite film of Carpenter’s. Big Trouble in Little China is the Carpenter-iest of all Carpenter movies, the midnight movie-est of all midnight movies, the craziest of all crazy movies. To attempt to describe the plot would be insanity, so in the spirit of the film, here I go: Jack Burton (Kurt Russell, in his greatest role), a trucker, takes some time to gamble with his friend Wang (Dennis Dun, also his greatest role). Jack wins big, and Wang tells him that he can only get him his money if Jack goes with him to pick up his fiancee from the airport. At the airport, Wang’s fiancee is kidnapped by a gang, which prompts Jack and Wang to go looking for her with the aid of a lawyer, Gracie Law (Kim Cattrall, in her greatest role), which leads to a bizarre web of Chinese magic and the struggle by ghost wizard (?) Lo Pan (James Hong, in his greatest role) to regain his mortal form. Aided by a tour bus driver (Victor Wong, take a wild guess where this ranks among his roles) and several others of various usefulness, Jack, Wang, and Gracie face off against seemingly unstoppable magicians and whatever the hell this thing is:
Big Trouble in Little China is an action movie, it’s a comedy (the cut back to Jack out cold on the ground during the climactic fight scene is gold), it’s kind of a horror film (see above), it’s a love story (“You’re not even going to kiss her?” “Nope.”). It’s a busy movie, and with a runtime of an hour and 39 minutes, the fact that it never gets too busy is impressive. Big Trouble is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It’s nonstop fun that also functions as glorious, expectation-subverting art. No frame of this movie could be replaced, nothing could be added, nothing could be cut. This is a movie that became one of my all-time favorites as soon as the credits rolled. This is a movie that will remind anyone who loves movies exactly why they do. This is a movie that I’m going to go watch again right now.
2- The Thing (1982)
Carpenter never shied away from single-setting movies. Assault on Precinct 13 and Prince of Darkness are both great examples of that. But no film of his (or maybe of anyone’s) invokes as much paralyzing claustrophobia as The Thing. Everything is designed to make you feel as utterly hopeless as possible: the antarctic setting, the unpredictability of the monster, the viscerally upsetting body horror. You feel the fear of the characters so much because the film gives you no choice- anyone could be the thing. This movie famously did terrible upon its release, both in terms of box office and critical reception. A lot of that is attributable to a movie that came out 2 weeks prior: E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial. The film found a following over the years, and has now come to be seen as a classic. The Thing is scary, it’s disturbing, it’s indelible. It sears itself into your brain through unforgettable imagery and a sense of pervasive futility that you can’t quite shake. It also features the greatest of Carpenter’s many great endings. On another note, antarctic researchers watch this film routinely, which is a level of masochism that I would never dream of, despite how much I love this film.
1- Halloween (1978)
“Everyone’s entitled to one good scare.”
These words are spoken by Carpenter regular Charles Cyphers early in Halloween, John Carpenter’s best film. Both the film and its director eventually blow well past one, as the seminal horror film shocks until its conclusion and Carpenter didn’t slow down in its wake (although he would never experience another success as great as this one). Halloween builds something extraordinary from ordinary circumstances: its now-iconic villain is just a guy in a plain white mask, its heroine was then-unknown actress Jaime Lee Curtis, and its premise of “guy goes around killing teenagers” is pretty simple. So why did it become a stone cold classic and touchpoint for generations of lesser re-imaginings and ripoffs (hello, original Friday the 13th)? It’s so good. Just so, so good. Every moment is creepy and electric, every scare works, it’s infinitely entertaining and rewatchable. It’s the definitive watch for an entire season, it has come to define an entire holiday. It may not have actually created the slasher subgenre, but for all intents and purposes it did. It’s an achievement that no number of sequels and reboots can possibly dull. It’s John Carpenter’s crowning moment, and as such it’s an essential piece of cinematic history.
Ladies and Gentlemen, IT IS HALLOWEEN. Well, it’s October, which to some people doesn’t mean much but in actuality, it’s officially the best holiday. It’s the most wonderful time of the year, a time of seasonal candy (the official position of this blog is pro-candy corn, by the way), scary movies, and the onset of flu and allergy season. That’s a bit of a bummer to end on, but the scary movies part is cool. Let’s talk about that.
What follows is a ranked list of the greatest horror movies ever. The most important thing to remember here is that this is in order of quality of horror movie, not quality of movie. Confused? Of course you are. Basically, the things that make a horror movie good (atmosphere, scariness, etc) are not the same things that make a regular movie good. So, movies like Psycho and Rosemary’s Baby are better overall movies than some of the stuff that they’re behind on this list, but not better horror movies. Also, as I have not seen every horror movie in existence, this is an incomplete list. So if your favorite horror movie isn’t on here, it could be for one of three reasons: I haven’t seen it (sorry, Night of the Living Dead, both Evil Dead and Evil Dead II, and The Fly, I swear I’ll watch you one of these days), I don’t consider it a horror movie (sorry, Shaun of the Dead, What we do In the Shadows, and A Quiet Place) or it isn’t good enough (sorry, Blair Witch Project and original Friday the 13th, you should’ve been better movies). With all that cleared up, let’s go.
Dishonorable mention: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (1974)
Sorry. I know that this probably undermines my credibility on the subject, but I HATED this movie. I’ve been meaning to revisit it for some time now, because maybe it’s far better than I remembered and maybe it is the terrifying classic that everyone says it is. I wanted to like it so bad, but I just couldn’t get into it. The characters aren’t developed at all, the nothing production values don’t work, and it just feels accidental. The one thing I will say on its behalf is the blood: many people have pointed out that, despite the film being famously gory, there is almost no actual blood shown. It just feels like there is, which is pretty impressive. Anyway, I felt like the absence of this film from the list deserved an explanation, as it’s usually a staple of lists like these. I will try it again, I promise.
30- 28 Days Later (2002)
Danny Boyle’s zombie movie (come on people. It’s a zombie movie. Don’t overcomplicate things.) reminded me a lot of Texas Chainsaw when I first saw it, largely due to the fact that they both feel like they were made for about three dollars and change. 28 Days Later, however, had the somewhat crucial distinction of actually scaring me. I liked this less than I felt like I should, but it still has some completely terrifying moments and a totally unique atmosphere. Cilian Murphy is brilliant.
29- It (2017)
There are two things that make this one special: Bill Skarsgard’s terrifying, unhinged tour de force performance as Pennywise the clown, and the opening scene (which is largely made special by said terrifying unhinged tour de force). The opening scene is among the likes of Halloween, Scream, and Jaws for the greatest horror beginnings, and it miraculously maintains all of its tension and horror on repeat viewings. I seriously watched it upside down, with no sound, on someone’s phone, having already seen it and it still terrified me. A total masterclass. Oh, and the rest of this thing is scary as hell too. Surprisingly strong performances from the child actors across the board, and Skarsgard is just incredible. I have yet to see the sequel, in large part due to the negative reviews and lack of a desire to lessen the impact of this film.
28- Don’t Look Now (1973)
This is maybe the least accessible film on this list, and the least conventionally scary. For most of its runtime, Don’t Look Now unfolds as a melodrama about a family dealing with loss. But slowly but surely, it transforms in to something very, very different. By the time it reaches its unforgettable conclusion, it’s straight-up terrifying, and you’re not even sure why. The use of the setting of Venice to make it creepy just works so well throughout the whole thing. Colored raincoat double feature with It would be cool.
27- Nosferatu (1922)
This movie spawned THIS and is therefore a masterpiece:
But also it’s unbelievably influential, super creepy, and holds up shockingly well. It’s also by far the oldest movie on this list, which I feel is impressive.
26- House (1977)
This is the weirdest movie I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen Jodorowsky’s The Holy Mountain. And I love it so much. It’s an experience like no other, and I think it’s technically a horror movie, so it makes the list. I can’t properly contextualize just how weird it is, so the only thing I can recommend is watching it. Thank me later.
25- The Silence of the Lambs (1991)
The reason why this is so low is because it’s not totally a horror movie. You could make the argument that it’s more of a thriller, and you’d be correct. But it is at least partially horror, and that part provides the film with some of its best moments. Anthony Hopkins creates one of the greatest, if not the greatest, cinematic villains. Jodie Foster turns in a career-defining performance. It’s surprisingly quotable (even if one of its most famous lines never actually appears in it). It’s a masterpiece, and one of the best films on this list, even if it doesn’t reach the rank of masterful horror film.
24- Midsommar (2019)
I’ve written at length about Ari Aster’s latest masterwork, and despite its recency, I feel comfortable placing it on this list. Far more comfortable than I did at any point during this film, which can only be described as an ordeal. It’s a brutal and shocking viewing experience, and yet a singular and perversely beautiful work of art. It suffers from a similar problem to Silence of the Lambs, however. It’s a better film than many of the films that follow (including Aster’s own Hereditary), but not as good of a horror film. In relation to Hereditary in particular, I consider it a better film, but not as scary, and that’s a factor here. Still, mandatory viewing for those with strong stomachs.
23- Get Out (2017)
Yet another masterpiece that finds itself kind of low on this list for not being as great of a horror movie as it is a regular movie. Jordan Peele’s race relations horror film was a huge deal when it came out in early 2017, earning an Oscar win for best original screenplay (which horror movies don’t really win) and establishing Peele as an auteur to watch. The drama elements (and, to some level, comedy elements) may outweigh the horror ones, but this still feels like it’ll go down as a classic, and one of the most important films in the history of the genre.
22- Paranormal Activity (2007)
Found footage horror can be hit or miss. Ok, it’s almost entirely misses, but that’s what makes this film so special. It actually works, and it actually uses the format to its full potential. It’s so effortlessly creepy, and truly terrifying at times. You’ll find yourself doing double takes at stuff you may not have even seen. This film commands you to somehow pay attention to the whole screen, like a twisted version of Tati’s Playtime (nope, bad comparison, I take it back). The ending (I’m talking about the one where BIG TIME SPOILER ALERT she lunges at the camera) is one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever experienced, and it makes up in some way for the parts of the film that drag.
21- The Cabin in the Woods (2012)
Drew Goddard is one of the most unique and underrated directors working today, as evidenced by both last year’s criminally underseen neo-noir masterwork Bad Times at the El Royale and this uproarious horror-comedy. This film is basically a horror movie fan’s dream, subverting and gloriously blowing out of proportion every single genre trope. This is similar to Scream in that it’s best enjoyed after you’ve seen a bunch of horror movies, and in that it’s self aware but in a way that actually works. Oh, and it’s also scary.
20- The Omen (1976)
Perhaps the all time creepy kid movie, The Omen is probably to blame for any time you’ve looked at a small child and gotten creeped out. The legendary “all for you” scene is one of the eeriest ever created, Gregory Peck is here, and there’s a scene where a character gets decapitated by a sheet of glass falling off the back of a truck. There’s nothing not to like about The Omen, which is undeniably one of the creepiest films ever made.
19- Carrie (1976)
The very first Stephen King adaptation, Carrie is also notable for bringing widespread recognition to director Brian de Palma and star Sissy Spacek. Piper Laurie also gives one of the scariest performances of all time, and John Travolta appears in a role one year prior to Saturday Night Fever. Carrie also features one of the only valid uses of the split screen, and the final jump scare is one of the best ever. It has since (unfortunately) been remade twice, but nothing can take away from the iconic, classic original.
18- Eraserhead (1977)
Every time I hear or see the word “Eraserhead”, a part of my brain does the noise Sideshow Bob makes when he steps on a rake. David Lynch’s primal debut feature is one of the freakiest and most upsetting films ever made. It’s composed almost entirely of things you wish you weren’t looking at. This is rare among horror films because of the visceral level at which it upsets you. Lynch creates images that you never would’ve thought of and would’ve liked to have never imagined. Eraserhead is a horrifying, brilliant film unlike no other.
17- A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984)
Yes, it may be super 80s and cheesy and yes, the impact may be ruined due to eternal sequels, but this holds up stunningly well. Krueger, although made cartoony by years of pop culture ubiquity, is still terrifying. The general premise is unbeatable. And the failure of every adult to function as human beings is an all time group of dumb horror movie characters and decisions. What’s especially clear from this film is that Wes Craven knows his way around a horror movie. This is far scarier still than it has any right to be, and somehow earned its place as a classic.
16- Phantasm (1979)
Phantasm! This movie is notable for being absolutely freaking bonkers and also ruling. The fact that it even got made illustrates how awesome hollywood was in the 70s. This gonzo psychedelic cult classic boasts one of horror’s greatest ever villains, and also manages to be truly frightening among all the entertainment. The less you know about this one going in, the better, so I’ll leave it at this: Phantasm is mandatory viewing for any horror enthusiast, and you should probably watch it even if you don’t like horror movies. Everyone should see it. Elect me president of the world and I will force everyone to watch Phantasm Clockwork Orange-style.
15- Us (2019)
Jordan Peele’s sophomore feature is (hot take alert) superior to its predecessor in almost every way. First and foremost, it’s scarier. It kind of has to be, as it goes full-on horror in ways Get Out doesn’t. Lupita Nyong’o gives one of the greatest performances (two of them, actually) of anyone in any movie ever. It’s unbelievable. Catching this the day it came out was one of the smartest decisions I’ve ever made- Us is an astounding piece of cinema, one of the greatest films ever made, and a masterwork of the horror genre. I refuse to say a single word against this movie. It’s flawless. It’s not higher because then I’d be subject to accusations of recency bias, which is a subject I will address later when I commit a pretty appalling act of recency bias.
14- Carnival of Souls (1962)
Herk Harvey’s 1962 cult classic is something of an oddity in terms of how it reached that status. It was conceived as part of a drive-in double feature, which bombed due to how weird it is. It drifted around in obscurity for decades, before people finally woke up and realized the truth: that Carnival of Souls is an eerie, atmospheric masterpiece. It’s everything every horror movie should strive to be- fresh, original, SO CREEPY, and bizarre. I saw this for the first time on a total whim, knowing very little about it, and not really knowing why. It was almost as if something drew me to it. It’s one of my favorite films ever, and if you saw it for the first time without knowing what you were about to see, you’ll understand why.
13- Psycho (1960)
You were warned that Psycho would be below some stuff it’s better than. Probably the greatest film on this list (its competition is basically Rosemary’s Baby, The Shining, and The Silence of the Lambs), Psycho falls here because it doesn’t hold up as a horror movie particularly well. Sure, it’s honestly really scary at points (RIP Arbogast), and it’s creepy throughout, but it works better as a mystery at this point. But Psycho is undeniable on this list, both for its influence and the fact that it’s just so damn great. There’s really nothing to say about it that hasn’t been said already, so I’ll leave it there.
12- The Conjuring (2013)
James Wan’s 2013 film is unabashedly scares over substance, but oh my god is it scary. Quite possibly the most terrifying film ever made, The Conjuring feels dangerous to watch. It can get you any time, from anywhere. Some of the jump scares are telegraphed, but it doesn’t matter. Two in particular (the hands in the basement and the demon on the wardrobe) rank among the absolute greatest of all time. Another thing it does well is invoke the season of fall. It uses the distinct setting to its advantage, and plays on the inherent creepiness of the time. It never misses an opportunity to try to scare you, and it never fails.
11- Scream (1996)
Craven’s crowning achievement, Scream is blessed with something many horror movies of its time were short on: creativity. The first horror movie to really be self-aware, it played on this then-untapped angle and converted it to the perfect experience for genre fans. It’s a loving tribute to horror that also succeeds at being scary in its own right- the legendary opening scene is one of the best ever, and the van jump scare is brilliant. It also features possibly the greatest screenplay in horror history courtesy of Kevin Williamson. The performances are all perfect. The rules are all spot on. Wes Craven himself plays the janitor dressed like Freddy Krueger.
10- Jaws (1975)
The movie that has made generation after generation afraid to go swimming is a mortal lock for the top 10 on a list of the greatest horror movies ever. The brilliance here is twofold- the use of music and the fact that the shark remains hidden. The musical element of the film wasn’t the first time music had been used in such a way (Psycho and M did it first, although only Psycho is a horror movie of those two), but it was certainly crucial in establishing it as a trope. The lack of use of the shark apparently wasn’t Spielberg’s first choice and was caused by mechanical issues, but it works well and has been used by many movies since (see Friday the 13th). While there may not be many moments that are actually, legitimately scary, anyone who’s ever been in the ocean can definitely say it’s terrifying.
9- Rosemary’s Baby (1968)
The controversy of director Roman Polanski can’t really take away from what an achievement this film is. It’s shocking, disturbing, and masterful. This is a film that haunts the viewer long after it finishes, and it contains brilliant imagery that sears itself into the brain of the viewer. It’s perfect in the way it portrays paranoia, betrayal, and bad neighbors. The film features a gloomy, sorrowful mood that persists throughout its runtime, and it’s a very different viewing experience than most other horror films. Mia Farrow is excellent, as are Ruth Gordon (who deservedly won an Oscar for her portrayal of villain Minnie Castevet) and legendary independent filmmaker John Cassavetes. The moral of the story is clear- never live in an apartment, never talk to your neighbors, and don’t mess with mysterious blocked off doors in your new residence.
8- It Follows (2014)
David Robert Mitchell’s 2014 stunner is an example of someone taking a genius premise and not only living up to it, but exceeding its potential. It Follows is a perfect movie, a brilliant and concentrated creation of pure terror and intensity. There’s no safety anywhere, there’s nothing you can do to truly escape. All you can do is run and hope. At some point I should write more about this film and how much I love it, because I really can’t fit it all in one paragraph. But It Follows is a modern classic, and I stand by its placement on this list.
7- Alien (1979)
Ridley Scott’s 1979 classic is one of the greatest horror films ever and one of the greatest sci-fi films ever, which is a winning combination. It starts off slow, and about halfway through kicks it up a notch and devolves into a pure hellscape, never to relent. The scares are truly excellent (the vent scene got me on my second watch, too), the acting is word-perfect (Sigourney Weaver is flawless), and the titular creature is one of horror’s greatest villains. It’s scientifically impossible to watch Alien and not love it. Trust me, I know science, I’ve seen Alien a bunch of times.
6- The Thing (1982)
John Carpenter’s classic film is brutal, intense, and terrifying from the very start up until the brilliantly ambiguous conclusion. Similar to Alien, it’s a masterclass in isolation. Yet for every scare built out of brilliant tension (holy hell the blood test scene), there’s one that’s just plain gross (defibrillator). This variety is what makes The Thing unique- it covers every possible base. The gross-out gory stuff is balanced out with steadily mounting tension. Brilliant acting and plotting create something unforgettable, it’s everything a horror movie can be and then some. It’s also one of two films in the top 10 to receive a razzie nomination.
5- Hereditary (2018)
Ari Aster’s films remind me a lot of Stephen King’s novels. They’re gruesome, upsetting, and hard to get through. They’re terrifying, abrasive, and yet totally brilliant. Hereditary is a perfect example of this. It’s terrifying in a way that so few films are: it’s atmospheric and the characters have an uncanny ability to scare you just by being themselves. It feels wrong throughout. It feels like you shouldn’t be watching it. Comparisons to Rosemary’s Baby and The Exorcist don’t feel out of place. This is a painful watch, one that’s regrettable and rewarding at once. Toni Collette delivers one of horror’s greatest performances. This is the film that, more than any other, feels like the harbinger of a new kind of horror movie. Something raw and unpleasant, but phenomenal nonetheless.
4- The Shining (1980)
The Shining is a horror film a la Kubrick, which means it’s meticulous and somewhat overwhelming. It’s the basis for my theory that every movie ever should have been directed by him- look at the set design, the camera angles, the performances (Nicholson’s career best). The hotel itself couldn’t exist as it’s depicted in the movie, it’s intentionally constructed impossibly to communicate a feeling of uneasiness and confusion. The scenes in the snow are the absolute best movies ever get. It’s an experience that never gets old, and it’s one that no movie, let alone horror film, has ever replicated or matched. It’s also a dark horse candidate for the best edited film ever, too. This is a particular brand of excellence, and a scary one to boot.
3- Halloween (1978)
John Carpenter’s seminal slasher classic is unique among horror movies in how little time it takes to get to the chase. It opens with a brilliant unbroken POV shot that depicts the first murder of the killer at the center of the film, then pans back to reveal a small child. It then goes to a mental facility in the middle of the night where said killer steals a car and escapes. The killing resumes again shortly, but not without abundant creepiness in between. Halloween unfolds exactly as all slashers should. It’s a perfect film, entertaining and scary in equal measure. It features both an all time great villain and an all time great heroine. It’s a rare movie that you feel you couldn’t add or remove a frame to or from. Every movement of the camera or one of the characters is essential, every line is perfect, every blank, emotionless Michael Myers stare is flawless. It doesn’t have the flash or elaborateness of some of the films that followed it, but it has more quality than any of them.
2- The Babadook (2014)
Remember the appalling act of recency bias I talked about earlier? Well, here we are. I firmly believe that The Babadook deserves this spot. It creates some of the greatest scares ever without any actual danger (the scenes with the book are unbelievably terrifying) and both central performances are crafted perfectly to achieve the desired results. Possibly the scariest film ever made, it’s also a cutting depiction of loss and parenthood. On the recency bias- the reason that films like this don’t make lists like this is due to reverse recency bias, the inability to admit that modern films are superior to some (admittedly great) classic films. This is honestly where I think this film should be. Watching it for the first time felt like what it must have been like to watch The Shining or The Exorcist in the years after their releases. This film will go down in history as one of the greatest examples of the genre and one of its defining works.
1- The Exorcist (1973)
Nothing can be said about The Exorcist that hasn’t been said already. I’ve even written extensively about it. But one universal truth that I feel can’t be overstated is this: The Exorcist is the greatest horror movie ever created. It’s terrifying, disturbing, unsettling, brutal, and masterful. If it feels too easy to call it these things, that’s because it deserves them to such a degree that saying it feels repetitive. This is a stunning epic of faith, terror, and pea soup that has managed to persist for four and a half decades on a legacy of horrifying excellence, a legacy that it deserves. This is the only answer. Horror cinema’s greatest masterpiece.
Through two feature films and several shorts (of varying notability), Ari Aster has shown that he is a really, really good filmmaker. Yes, he’s most notable for his work in the horror genre, but his films transcend that. They’re obviously terrifying and horribly upsetting, but underneath that there are films that work just as well as dramas. Hereditary and The Strange Thing About the Johnsons are horror films, but they’re also melodramas about family and loss. They’re also incredible. Something definitely happened to Aster, but man does he know how to make a movie. And Midsommar is his best one yet.
Midsommar opens on a snowy day in the dead of winter, which is the most badass way to possibly open a movie with (a variation of) the word summer in the title. And then Aster gets down to business, as a double murder/suicide occurs within the first, I don’t know, ten minutes? From there it becomes clear what the movie is about- Dani (Florence Pugh, in an absolutely unbelievable performance) and her boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor), and their deteriorating relationship. This simple domestic conflict is typical for an Aster film, but two things set it apart from Hereditary quality-wise. These things are as follows: The first is that it’s absolute art. Not that Hereditary isn’t, it’s just that Midsommar is on another level. The second is that it’s totally batsh*t. It’s a bright, colorful nightmare with dementedly brilliant drug trip sequences and the single wildest sex scene in cinematic history. Pawel Pogorzelski’s cinematography is at its best.
I mean, come on. But there’s more to Midsommar than how it looks. The drama created by the relationships between the characters propels the film to greatness (oh by the way, here’s where the spoilers start, so if you intend to see Midsommar, which you should, read no further). I already talked about how the core of the film is Dani and Christian’s relationship. But there’s so much more at play here. Mark (Will Poulter, who provides the movie with most of its shockingly plentiful humor) and his reluctance to have Dani join them on their trip to Sweden, Christian leaching off of Josh’s (William Jackson Harper of The Good Place) thesis topic, and Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) trying to bond with Dani over their past experiences of loss. These relationships end, respectively, with death by an unknown cause followed by the removal of his face, death by head trauma on behalf of someone wearing a mask of said face, and the decision to condemn a cheating boyfriend to death by burning while inside of a disemboweled bear carcass. That’s why Midsommar works so well- the events of the film are gloriously over the top and upsetting (I’m not going to talk about the ritual suicide scene except to say this: WHYYYYYYYYYYYY AHH GOD WHY), but it’s all rooted in human conflict and human emotion. This is where Ari Aster shows why he’ll be so successful in whatever genre he decides to work in next. It’s why Midsommar is his best film, one of A24’s (the best movie studio in the world, by the way) best, and the second best film of the year so far (it doesn’t quite reach the level of Us). Midsommar is such a masterpiece because, for all of its horror and fantastical elements, it’s very much of this world.
I can’t be exactly sure what it is, but the power of something or other keeps compelling people to go back to The Exorcist. It’s been out for over 45 years, a time period in which it built a reputation as the scariest movie ever made and cemented itself as a touchstone, a rite of passage for horror fans. Debates abound about, after four and a half decades, it’s still as scary- whether it has managed to maintain its terror factor despite its pop culture ubiquity and (debatably) dated special effects.
Yes. Yes, it is still straight-up terrifying, and if you think otherwise you may have watched a different movie. It exudes an atmosphere of pure, unmitigated horror. It’s the ultimate 4-AM first-time viewing experience, especially if you are (like I was) still a horror-averse idiot who thinks “oh, this won’t be so scarring”. And then it starts. And everything you’ve heard about it, every “scariest movie ever” claim and every “you won’t sleep for a week” assertion comes back to you and then there’s the title screen and OH GOD THE TITLE SCREEN and that score and the string instruments that have come directly from the pits of hell hit and you’re thinking “i can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this” and then it spends like 10 minutes on an archeological dig in the middle east. I think I went off on a tangent there but my point is as following: The Exorcist is life-changing. It’s as great and as bat-s**t terrifying as you’ve heard. It’s disturbing and super scarring. After my first watch, I swore off ever watching it again. As of today, just over 8 months later, I’ve seen it three times. It’s that alluring, that fantastic, that great.
William Peter Blatty’s 1971 novel The Exorcist drew buzz. The book was upsetting to people on a level that nothing had really been before. It was protested by religious groups and caused an insane amount of controversy. So naturally, Hollywood (70’s Hollywood ruled) decided that it needed to be filmed.
While Blatty’s book was becoming a huge success (or at least extremely well-known), another guy named William was dominating another medium. William Friedkin’s The French Connection grossed $51.7 million (unadjusted, the 2nd highest grossing film of that year) and won 5 Oscars, including best picture and best director for Friedkin. He had recognition, and the ability to direct what he wanted.
After being turned down by Arthur Penn, Mike Nichols, and Stanley Kubrick (side note- while the movie is perfect as is, a Kubrick interpretation would’ve been cool to see), Blatty (a producer of the film) pushed the studio to hire Friedkin to direct because he liked the style of The French Connection. So began the most cursed production until Apocalypse Now began shooting 3 years later.
Friedkin was brutal. He manipulated his actors in extreme ways, including but not limited to: Slapping William O’Malley to achieve a solemn mood, lying to Jason Miller about where he was getting hit with pea soup before having it be his face, fired blanks randomly to elicit scared reactions from the crew, and turned the set of Regan’s room into a freezer during the exorcism scene. The atrocities of the film don’t stop there, as many people associated with it died during and after filming, causing many people to believe that it was cursed. It was boycotted and banned in several countries. Theaters provided barf bags at every showing. And it, adjusted for inflation, became the 9th highest grossing film ever made.
Which begs the question: How? The short answer is that it’s completely incredible. The long answer is that it was more or less completely different from anything else ever, and represented a huge change in a time when movies were changing rapidly. Prior to 1973, there’s not too much precedent for pure horror the likes of which The Exorcist is. Psycho in 1960 is far less sinister, more crowd-friendly (this is not a knock on Psycho, which is an even better film than The Exorcist is). 1968’s Rosemary’s Baby is probably the closest thing to it, but even that is more of a drama (also not a knock, it’s pretty unbelievable as well). So The Exorcist was different and new, and that’s attractive to a wide audience, no matter how nauseating and upsetting that new thing may be. There’s a different answer as to the critical and awards success it achieved, including ten Oscar nominations, including best picture and director (it won for best adapted screenplay and best sound). The reason for that is simply that it’s that good. Friedkin’s extreme methods paid off big time, as the final product is still the high-water mark for the genre, the thing that every great new horror movie (see last year’s Hereditary, which ascends to the level of such films as The Exorcist and The Shining). Images, lines, scenes from this film stay with every viewer, and for all of the great things about it, one of the best things you can say about The Exorcist is that it stays with you. That eerie atmosphere that is created with that first scene never leaves, it’s there long after the credits roll. For all of its incredible technical aspects, for every great performance, for every shot that’s the greatest single movie frame ever (it’s just the one (see above picture), but that’s enough), the triumph of The Exorcist is how damn unnerving it is. That’s what makes it the greatest horror movie ever made. 45 years on, we’re still waiting for something to top it.
In honor of Mother’s day coming up in a few days, I’ve decided to write about some of the most touching mother-child stories in cinematic history: Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho and Notorious, the original The Manchurian Candidate and Friday the 13th, and Brian de Palma’s Carrie.
By now, you have realized that the word “touching” is inaccurate. So rather, stay put for some of the most… let’s say interesting mothers in film history. (Spoilers ahead for all those mentioned above, but I mean come on, if you haven’t seen at least Psycho, if not all of those, by this point, then what are you doing?)
The Manchurian Candidate (1962)
In a performance that should’ve won her an oscar (although nominated, she lost to Patty Duke in The Miracle Worker), Angela Lansbury portrays the mother of Korean War hero Raymond Shaw, a woman obsessed with only one thing: power. She marries a senator (reminiscent of Joseph McCarthy) and acts as a sort of twisted puppeteer behind his rise to power through fear. To this end, she brainwashes her son to carry out an assassination for political purposes. Shaw, upon having this plot revealed to him (by none other than Frank Sinatra), takes the somewhat extreme (although reasonable, due to the events of the film) step of killing his mother and the senator, before he kills himself. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that a mother who drives her son to this ins’t exactly the best. And again, Lansbury is completely fantastic.
Psycho (1960) & Notorious (1946)
As one could discern from pretty much any of his films, Alfred Hitchcock had kind of a rough relationship with mothers. In his films, the mother is almost always an antagonistic character, which is a product of his complicated relationship with his own mother. The two most prominent examples of this are in his landmark Psycho and his classic Notorious.
In Notorious, Austrian silent film star Leopoldine Konstantin plays the scheming mother of Claude Rains (in his best performance after Casablanca), a nazi war criminal hiding out in Brazil. When Ingrid Bergman’s Alicia Huberman gets married to Rains as part of a government operation and Rains finds out, his mother suggests poisoning Bergman’s character. While the main conflict of the movie is Huberman’s twisted relationship with Cary Grant, the climax of the film (and second most intense scene after the scene in the wine cellar) features Rains carrying out his mother’s plan and poisoning Alicia. She suffers throughout the remainder of the film before Grant’s character comes to rescue her. The conclusion of Notorious brings the film full circle in something of a typical, twisted, Hitchcockian romantic way. Yet the cause of the action that brings the film to its end it spurred on by the mother. This cements Hitchcock’s distaste for mothers in Notorious, and in doing so pushes the film over the finish line and creates one of his greatest accomplishments.
In Psycho, obviously, the mother/son relationship is a little different than most other movies. Norman Bates’s relationship with his mother is… intimate. In fact, a lot of the reason that Psycho works as well as it does, which is to say about as well as anything does, is because of the dynamic created by the hidden (or, as it turns out, not hidden) antagonist throughout the majority of the movie. The “mother” is responsible for some of the greatest moments in the whole movie, such as the brilliant ending monologue (she wouldn’t even harm a fly), the reveal of the real mother (one of the most frightening moments in the whole film), the murder of Milton Arbogast (the single most terrifying moment in the whole film and an absolute masterwork of direction) and of course, the shower scene (I don’t think I have to give any explanation here). While Anthony Perkins turns in a great performance as Norman Bates and Janet Leigh is exceptional as Marion Crane (well, while she’s alive), it could be argued that the mother steals the film and makes it what it is, and that’s a testament to Hitchcock’s skill as a director.
Friday The 13th (1980)
Speaking of villainous horror movie mothers who spend most of the film in the shadows (wow, that’s a niche category), you really can’t beat Mrs. Voorhees in the original Friday the 13th. Before I begin here, full disclosure: I’m not a fan of this movie. It has some redeeming qualities (holy crap, is that Kevin Bacon?), and is no way a failure, it spends most of its runtime trying to be Halloween. However, one of those redeeming qualities is the twist that the killer is not Jason, but in fact his mother. Sure, some of the impact is lessened by the fact that it’s an incredibly well-known twist, yet it’s a brilliant subversion of horror movie tropes. The effectiveness of the twist is due in large part to how unbelievably creepy Betsy Palmer is in the role. The movie ramps up the intensity at an incredible level the moment she is revealed to be the killer, and it does a very good job of keeping the intensity up until the final jump scare (a final jump scare that manages to be scarier than anything else in the movie, another niche category. More on that in a second). The character of Mrs. Voorhees does an excellent job of elevating the film, which speaks to the quality of the character.
Carrie (1976)
The scariest part of Brian de Palma’s classic Carrie is of course that final jump scare, but Piper Laurie’s character comes pretty close. Laurie plays the titular character’s fundamentalist Christian mother, a psychotic being of pure evil whose only purpose is to make Carrie’s life somehow even worse than her classmates try to make it. Margaret White manages to be perhaps the single most evil screen mother in a couple of ways. The first is that Laurie turns in an all-time performance. She was nominated for the Oscar for best supporting actress, but lost to Beatrice Straight in Network (which, I mean, I love Network a lot, but come on, she’s in one scene). Although Sissy Spacek turns in another legendary performance as the eponymous protagonist, Laurie steals every scene she’s in. The second reason that the character is so terrifying is simply the painfully sad irony of her: Carrie’s life is miserable, and the person who should be there for her to lean on is so awful to her that, when she’s just had the worst experience of her life (understatement), she exacerbates the situation by literally trying to kill her daughter. The previously mentioned mothers on this list are terrible, but nobody actually went that far.
I close with the absolute worst mother in film history. I am talking, of course, about Nancy’s mom in the original A Nightmare on Elm Street. I can’t even bring myself to write an entire paragraph about her. All the adults in that movie are idiots and watching them ruin the lives of their children is a special kind of torment, but she stands alone. Ok, quick tangent for a second: she KNOWS that Krueger is out there and she KNOWS what he intends to do, yet not only does she not believe her daughter, SHE INTENTIONALLY PREVENTS HER FROM TRYING TO SAVE HER OWN LIFE. SHE WANTS HER TO DIE. SHE’S FAR WORSE THAN FREDDY KRUEGER. So in conclusion, happy mother’s day, and screw you, the mom from Nightmare on Elm Street.
Today, April 26th, is (unofficially) Alien day, named after the planet LV-426 in the legendary movie. So what better time to look back on Ridley Scott’s masterpiece (which turns 40 this year)? Spoilers ahead.
The original Alien, released in 1979, is quite simply legendary. It’s spawned a franchise and a multi-film crossover (it’s probably better not to think about that, though), features one of the most legendary horror movie monsters in history (see above) and one of the most absolutely terrifying jump scares ever filmed (also see above). It’s been endlessly parodied (most notably in The Simpsons and Spaceballs). It has possibly the single most iconic tagline ever. It provided the world with one of the greatest heroes in not just horror, but all of cinema. It’s built a reputation as an absolute touchstone in cinematic history, one of the greatest of all horror films and sci-fi films (and, to be honest, just kinda films). What’s truly amazing about Alien, however, is that it 100% deserves its legacy. Four decades after its original release, it still terrifies and amazes. The aforementioned jump scare somehow manages to maintain its horror on repeat viewings, the climax of the film is exactly as intense on every watch. Visually, Scott’s directorial brilliance shines through throughout the entire film, from the mysterious, alluring shots of the alien planet to the eerie, frightening darkness that conceals the monster for most of its existence aboard the Nostromo. How, after 40 years, does Alien hold up so well?
My first experience with Alien was a few months ago, before I was a horror movie fan. Alien is a major reason for my obsession with the genre, due to the experience that was my initial viewing. Alien was simply different from anything I had seen, and I’m positive that this has been the experience of many, many other people who have become acquainted with the film over the last 40 years. One thing that makes Alien so fascinating is that it famously isn’t in a hurry. The first half of the movie is building up the atmosphere that forms the crux of its greatness in the second. Alien unfolds at such a slow pace, and this is because there’s so little that happens. The major events are as follows: The crew of the Nostromo is woken from sleep due to a distress signal. Some of the crew embarks onto the planet that sent out the signal. One of them is attacked by an unidentified organism. He is brought onto the ship in a coma. He wakes up and is then immediately killed (in possibly the greatest death scene in the history of film, another accolade for Alien). The alien that bursts out of his chest escapes into the ship. The rest of the film is the surviving crew slowly getting picked off one by one (save for Sigourney Weaver’s iconic Ripley and Jones the cat) punctuated by a massive revelation that they’ve been set up to die so that the Weyland-Yutani corporation, which employs them, can get their hands on the alien. These events are stretched out over a runtime of 1 hour and 56 minutes, and Alien never manages to feel boring for a second. Ridley Scott’s skill is visible in every frame as he constructs a flawless masterwork of tension in which long periods unfold with legitimately nothing happening. Alien is undeniably sparse, and this is where it succeeds, where it finds the otherworldly excellence that evades the countless pretenders to the throne that followed it.
Alien’s unique style is a reason why it holds up today, but the reason why it’s entered the general consciousness in the way it has is because of single indelible moments and aspects of the film. Would Alien be the classic it is today if it weren’t for the legendary chestburster scene? Would it routinely crack top 10 lists of the greatest horror movies ever if the vent scene (the mere words make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up) had been done differently? How many movies can you name whose tagline is so intertwined with the film itself? The image of the egg cracking open to reveal a green glow. The facehugger. All of these are iconic images that any casual movie fan is familiar with. There is one thing, however, that is more memorable, more famous, more terrifying than any of those.
I’m referring, of course, to the Xenomorph. The Alien itself. H.R. Giger’s notorious creature is an icon in its own right, a horror villain on par with Freddy Krueger, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, and Hannibal Lecter. There’s endless literature on how the creature was designed to elicit specific responses, how it was designed, created, etc. At the most basic level, the thing is just straight-up terrifying.
If Alien were simply the sum of its parts, it would be a pretty fantastic movie. But it’s not. There’s a quality to watching Alien that’s hard to pin down. It’s endlessly rewatchable, boundlessly iconic, and pretty close to, if not totally, perfect. Alien is one of the greatest cinematic classics there is. Over the last 40 years, you can hear a whole lot of people scream.
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The Movie Files 