10 of My Favorite Cult-Horror Films
Following the spirit of this blog, some movies have a certain, Hidden City feel to them, and by that what I mean is: somewhat obscure, hidden-in-plain-view, off the beaten trail-though not for posterity’s sake. In my opinion, taste boils down to atomized uniqueness, caricaturized-synopses of whatever influence and/or sensibilities we’ve acquiesced over time. Of course, this is all just to say that I love imperfection, and by that extension, “imperfect” films. If you are a fan of offbeat films and okay with a little of the occasional “hiccups” in cult-horror, I think you may like some of these movies...and if not, proceed with caution (just kidding).
Minor spoilers ahead, and so, without further ado, in no particular order :
#1. Carnival of Souls (1962)
Written by John Clifford, story by Herk Harvey
Though this is a B-film through and through, Carnival of Souls is a quintessential, black & white horror-thriller. Campy, dated, amongst other things, this movie still transcends its own schlock and limitations into something beautiful. A top 10 film for me, on its own. I’ve previously done a mini write-up for this film, so I’ll include it here: “The greatest B-movie of all time. Carnival of Souls teeters upon greatness, and is such a good piece of honest, emotional, raw-filmmaking, that it transcends its own limitations. Of course, there is camp, at-times stilted acting, dated filmographic convention, but there’s also a genuine expression of mythos, a surreal if-oddly juxtapositioned mysticism ever-present throughout its short runtime, a haunting, strangely beautiful soundtrack that’s exclusively made of organ. I think this film says a lot on its surface as well as its subtextual implications, and my theory is that Carnival of Souls is an extended metaphor of a woman struggling with her sexuality.”
#2. The Mothman Prophecies (2002)
Written by Richard Hatem, adapted from the novel by John Keele
Though not without faults, The Mothman Prophecies is a criminally-underrated psychological, supernatural horror-thriller. The movie takes a lot of creative liberties to deviate from its source material, which, in my opinion (having read the Keele book of the same name) saves this screenplay from devolving into nonsensical, early-UFO-and-vaguely-racist-conspiracies gumbo. At its core, The Mothman Prophecies manages to be a monster movie without having a monster on-screen (spoilers), the shtick/premise being how grief and trauma inform our phenomenological responses, the Mothman itself anthropomorphizing a person’s hauntings, their inner-turmoil if-demons. Most of the tension comes from John, Richard Gere’s character loosely-based on the source material’s author, how he descends upon a small, eerie town, drawn to it without any semblance of logicality. Stylistically, this film feels as if a love-letter to many things: David Lynch, Silent Hill, John Keele’s novel, Jacob’s Ladder, and a soupçon of Stephen King. The tone for this film feels unrivaled, and I love it without end.
#3. Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers (1988)
Written by Alan B. McElroy
Yes, this list wouldn’t be complete without the addition of a slasher (or two, or three). Taking a small page from John Carpenter’s 1978 original Halloween, this 4th numbered sequel to the series is something of a misnomer: Halloween III – Season of the Witch was made to be the first of what would (never) be a Halloween anthology film series, each subsequent addition as a new story, aka, The Twilight Zone. Though Halloween admittedly did get a direct sequel with the same director, Halloween II is rushed, un-horrifying, a film equivalent to a giant middle finger by Carpenter (who was obligated under contract, and it shows). Fortunately for the fans enthralled by the Michael Myers’ saga, Halloween 4 is a direct continuation of the second film, where the protagonist is Laurie Strode’s daughter, Jamie, who’s now living under an assumed identity and another family. I’ll be the first one to say Halloween 4 is not a great film, perhaps not even a sequel in its own series, but it doesn’t stop me from loving it nonetheless. Michael’s mask looks goofy at-times, some of the kill sequences are hilariously over-the-top, and there’s a slew of explicit imperfections littered everywhere in this movie, though I’d say it gives this film character (and not in a tongue-in-cheek, condescending tone either). Danielle Harris’s performance is legitimately amazing – especially given her age – and the late-Donald Pleasance nails it as the comic book-esque Loomis (becoming a series’ mainstay, sans Michael). Despite Halloween 4’s corniness and short-comings, it’s a bonafide fan’s movie, cult in-nature, the closest thing I’ll come close to labeling as a “guilty pleasure,” but there’s not any guilt here.
#4. Phenomena (1985)
Written by Dario Argento
After her breakthrough performance in Sergio Leonne’s Once Upon a Time in America, Jennifer Connelly took an impressive task to lead Dario Argento’s next horror cult-classic, Phenomena (aka Creepers in the States). Argento, an Italian filmmaker known for his stylized, highbrow mixture of giallo (Italian for “yellow,” colloquially used as a phrase to denote extreme filmographic violence/gore, “yellow,” an Italian reference to pulp) and psychological-slashers, had previously broken ground with 1977’s Suspiria. Phenomena follows in a similar vein to Argento’s 77 classic: both are set in boarding schools with dark secrets, their histories spurring an occultist maniac’s rampage for blood. Also starring in Phenomena is Halloween’s own Donald Pleasance, who plays a much-toned down role as professor McGregor, a bug-keeper, yet he still manages to light up the screen (yes-Connelly is also incredible, but that goes without saying, of course). While not a “scary” film per se, what Argento manages to do is pull off tension and palpable suspense by subverting certain expectations, be it visually or through the writing. Later on in the film, there’s a touch of pseudo-scientific world-salad that tries to explain what-becomes the plot involving superhuman powers and magic, though I find a certain charm about Phenomena’s story. If you’re familiar with the survival-horror genre in video games, you might have known/played a Capcom series entitled Clock Tower, to which its story, themes, setting and tone are all indebted to this movie. There exists a rare cut of this film that’s completely unedited (besides the original Italian release) called the Version: Integral, only released in Japan (and on obsolete media), which restores cut footage from its US counterpart; Anchor Bay has a mostly restored DVD re-release, though it’s still missing a some scenes. Whatever you do, don’t see Creepers unless you haven’t a choice.
#5. Dawn of the Dead (1979)
Written by George A. Romero
The proverbial father of Hollywood walking-corpses, George Romero is something like a patron saint in horror films. Picking up after Romero’s 1968, Night of the Living Dead (although not in a direct-way, but in the same universe), Dawn of the Dead is the second film in what would be his Living Dead trilogy (and later – arguably – pentalogy). Dawn of the Dead’s premise is so simple, yet it’s enriched by a multitude of subtext, metaphor and analogous imagery: the “dead” have remained risen, overtaking the Earth by sheer numbers while they devour society in piecemeal bites, leaving a group of survivors to be stranded in a shopping mall. Once more, if you’re ever a fan of survival-horror gaming, Capcom’s beloved Dead Rising series resolutely makes no qualms about being a spiritual reimagining of this film. Commercialism, consumerism, capitalism, all of the ism’s seem to be satirized on-display here, though at the heart of the movie, it’s still just a story about trying to stay alive. The characterizations are good, everyone’s emotions believable, and the shift back-and-forth between banality versus horror works so well here. That same goof of a corpse who’s stuck wandering a department store can suddenly become frightening when you’re trapped inside with it. Maintaining its own sense of consistency, Dawn of the Dead also reemploys the talents of practical-effects guru Tom Savini (think: an FX whiz, i.e. Stan Winston), who manages to both make us feel squeamish at the sight of blood, but also laugh out of terror. This film has a wonderful tongue-in-cheek sense of humor about itself that I feel only elevates it from the pack. If you’re into post-apocalyptic horror, then look no further than this cult-classic.
#6. A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987)
Written by Wes Craven, Frank Darabont, Chuck Russell and Bruce Wagner
Back in the day, as a small kid in 90’s-Americana, there always existed the playground debate of, “Freddy vs. Jason vs. Michael,” i.e. a fruitless, circular conversation revolving around which old-school slasher villain would win in an all-out match (and no, despite enjoying 2003’s Freddy vs. Jason, it doesn’t count, in my opinion...and besides, the movie’s a legitimate comedy). As an adult, I can see each of the big 3 served different purposes; Jason Vorhees took the mantle of comic book-y/anime antagonist, Michael Myers as a more (often, less) grounded, and Freddy Krueger fulfilling the role of horror-comedy court jester. 1984’s original, Nightmare on Elm Street is a true attempt at good-honest terror, but its series’ 3rd entry, Dream Warriors, that makes no attempt at such. In fact, I’d say Dream Warriors is where Freddy begins to find his proverbial voice, an everlasting canticle of goofball humor commixed in horror. Just as Halloween 4, Dream Warriors is the actual direct-sequel to the first film, while the second had another set of characters altogether (and ultimately, swept aside). The talented Patricia Arquette stars as one of many teens in psychiatric inpatient, the lot subjected to a returning Freddy’s demonic possession. What makes this film interesting is the sense of comic-book-y tonality, as if the MCU verse made superhero-horror, and I believe that it absolutely works (this film’s blend of unintentional Marvel and horror).
#7. The Blair Witch Project (1999)
Written by Heather Donahue, Eduardo Sanchez and Daniel Myrick
I still remember watching this on VHS as a kid and believing it to be real. The Blair Witch Project is a special movie, if-only for what it did to the world of horror movies: perhaps not by virtue, but by popularity, single-handedly codifying a sub-genre of “found footage” horror. Everything in this movie works because of intrinsic design, where the eyes of the characters we watch from a view through their cameras. A trio of college students embark on a weekend shoot for their film project, attempting to create a documentary about Burkittsville’s own mythological-folk legend, the Blair Witch. What later happens in “our world” is that the trio goes missing, only to leave an ominous trace of their presence: missing film reels. It goes without saying, but obviously, I think once you’ve seen this movie, its mystique or underlying “scariness” tends to dissipate (at least for me), but that doesn’t stop The Blair Witch Project from being a great film, which I do believe it to be. My subsequent rewatches have all been quite fun, in fact, and all of the acting throughout this movie still feelsbelievable, even if dislodged from horror. This is one of those movies I think everyone needs to see at least once, if-not for the sheer amount of cultural and filmographic references, influences, memes and jokes that it would spawn for many years after.
#8. Pet Sematary II (1992)
Written by Richard Outen
Out of every film on this list, I believe Pet Semetary II is perhaps, the most “cult” of them all. In no way, shape or form, would I ever recommend this movie to the average filmgoer, or by that means, even your regular horror-enthusiast. No, Pet Semetary II feels like a fever dream, a long acid trip about a horror movie that’s shot like a music video. The soundtrack is needlessly edgy, a mixture of grunge, sludged-out, wah-wah-pedaled guitar, occasionally horror-adjacent, but it still works (the music, alone, is worth mentioning). I have no idea if this movie is even related to the original beyond its schtick of reanimating animal cadavers into murderous Kujo’s, but really I don’t mind at all, given that this film is so genuinely fun. Terminator 2’s Edward Furlong excels in his role as a down-and-out, 90’s-apathetic-Gen-X’er (complete with torn jeans, scooped bowl cut and flannel), and his performance is decorously apt, on-point, excellent and believable. The story takes quite a few turns, actually subverting a lot of my expectations, and it does take what many consider to be the big cardinal sins for film, snuffing animals and kids. Yes, unfortunately, there’s the age-old trope of Stephen King’s go-to supernatural explanation of indigenous burial ground and what-have-you to provide precedent for killer kitties, yes, a couple minor parts are awkwardly acted, and yes, this film for sure won’t be everybody’s cup of tea, but I did say this list wouldn’t be perfect.
#9. The Thing (1982)
Written by Bill Lancaster, story by John W. Campbell Jr.
The man who made one of Hollywood’s scariest movies of all time (1978’s Halloween) also just followed up with (what many say is) the best action-horror movie of all time (rivaling James Cameron’s Aliens). The Thing has a lot going for it: an incredible, palpable atmosphere, a story rife with tension and stakes, dazzling animatronics and a load of visual effects, great script, cinematography, a score by Mr. Spaghetti-Western himself, Ennio Morricone (ala’, A Fistful of Dollars trilogy) and more. Subtextually, The Thing is a modern commentary on politicization and allegiances, perhaps even more broadly as a thing society’s fearful of. Keith David is phenomenal as the ever-resilient yet hardened Childs, Kurt Russel knocks it out of the park as an Escape from New York-y MacReady, and every part is perfectly cast, without a dud to see. This might be too gore-heavy or gruesome on the violence scale for folks who enjoy a more supernatural and/or eerie-type of horror to their popcorn consumption, so if you’re the least bit squeamish, out of every movie on this list, this would be the one to avoid. The lack of a woman on-screen, whatsoever, also hurts The Thing’s placing, because, just like the seminal 1979 Alien, none of the parts are gendered at-all (so much so-that the latter film happened to cast Sigourney Weaver by chance, because she was a force as Ripley – an agendered role). John Carpenter is a filmmaker’s filmmaker; his ability to mix the primordial vacuum of pulp-violence with art-noir is truly unique. Pair this with Aliens for a double-feature, and a wild ride.
#10. The Lost Boys (1987)
Story by Jan Fischer, written by Jeffrey Boam
Update: how on Earth could I forget this film (hint: ADHD). A film that’s as much coming-of-age as it’s a stereotypical, homoerotic subversion of familiar vampiric Hollywood tropes, The Lost Boys feels as wacky as it is fundamentally absurd, over-the-top in camp and cornball horror. There’s not much to discuss at the heart of this movie’s plot, which is: vampires = misfits = bad, momma’s boys = humans = good. All of what you can expect from the excessive 1980’s shines here, from ridiculous wardrobes, set designs, script and perhaps one of the most epic 80’s themes songs that’s equal parts cheese and nostalgia, reverb-soaked choruses, an anthemic and thoroughly dated song. Cory Feldman continues his streak of 1980’s gigs, and alongside the perpetual (and personal) heartthrob, Kiefer Sutherland, The Lost Boys is like a distillation of every tropism, every ridiculous and excessive trademark of the era, but it feels rewarding, even on any given rewatch. The “horror” in this movie might be lost in time, but that should be the least of anyone’s concerns when watching and enjoying, laughing at/with this film. Fans of Netflix’s hit, Strangers Things, take note: The Lost Boys + The Goonies + Stephen King + 1980’s aesthetic = a fantastic recipe for success.
