The term “social horror” seeks to highlight and challenge real-life injustices and everyday violence. It moves away from the notion of the supernatural monster to emphasize the human being as the primary source of violence and cruelty against others.

The Land Down Under has a way of making its landscapes feel—deliciously hostile. In Wake in Fright, the scorched outback is the biggest threat of all; in Wolf Creek, the miles of empty road are essentially accomplices. In Mia’Kate Russell’s Penny Lane is Dead, however, the outback gives way to a beach house, but make no mistake—the beach is no less terrifying than the bush.

Within Filipino folklore, no creature captivates and horrifies like the viscera-sucker, or manananggal. In Ramos’s taxonomy of aswangs, they are typically portrayed as beautiful women with long hair who, by night, split at the waist and detach from their lower body, hiding it in a safe place, such as under a banana tree. The top half sprouts wings and takes to the night to hunt for prey, intestines flying behind her.

Horror, besides being entertaining, is also a powerful tool for raising awareness, reflecting both individual and collective fears and concerns. While every country has its own horror manifestations, this essay focuses on Mexico because of its unique and unsettling relationship with horror. This relationship is analyzed under the term “mexplatterpunk.”

Released in 2018, Gonjiam: Haunted Asylum is one of the hidden gems of modern horror. Created by Jung Bum-shik of the Korea Republic, the premise of the film is found footage. However, the way it plays out after the introduction is very much in the moment, with the cameras on the characters used as a way to show different perspectives and areas of the asylum.

Kaveh Daneshmand’s directorial debut, the French-language Endless Summer Syndrome, embraces the dark secrets that run quietly beneath the surface of a family.

The new release Red Rooms offers an intense and accurate take on true crime, cyber hacking, and the depths one will go to uncover the truth.

Great Britain has, of course, a strong pedigree when it comes to classic horror films, so it's nearly impossible to narrow down to the ten best, but we gave it a shot.

Arrebato (Rapture) is the 1979 cult-hit from Spanish director Iván Zulueta that has thrilled and mystified international audiences for decades and will soon be available for the first time in the United States.

Though Brotherhood of the Wolf has its rough edges, this genre mashup of a movie has much to offer for horror and history fans alike.

David Lowery’s The Green Knight, a dreamlike venture, explores the vast interiority and resiliency of the human spirit, and that, really, sometimes you’ve just gotta lose your head.

Death of Me, released last year on Netflix, induces gut-wrenching fear and anxiety, but also struggles with focus and overuse of specific horror tropes.

Under the Shadow (2016), written and directed by Babak Anvari, is an incredibly important, needed, and timely Iranian entry in the haunted house subgenre, repoliticizing the concept of “house” and home.

Suspiria engages with color and atmosphere, and in this examination of Dario Argento’s use of the color yellow, we see Suspiria mirrored with the work of Vincent Van Gogh.

Though you never stop rooting for Soo-hyeon, there are several times when you have to ask yourself, “Is he going too far? Should I be feeling the way I feel?”

There is a perpetual and cyclical bleeding out of color and emotion in the Rothko paintings, such that the viewer is easily overwhelmed. In Suspiria, it is unabashedly intentional. This is the first of a 3-part series on the colors of the original Suspiria.

What it may lack, for some viewers, in pacing, it more than makes up for in creativity.

In lieu of any scary villains or boogeymen, The Last Wave allows a primal awareness to roll in like a storm cloud.  Peter Weir is content to provide a framework of a story and allow Indigenous voices to drive the substance of the film.