10 of (some of) my Favorite Slashers
It’s been a minute since I’ve felt like posting a Top 10, but due to the currently spooky season currently underway, I figured I’d engage the autumn festivities by posting something along the lines of Halloween-oriented content. Undoubtably, there’s a fair share of those out there who aren’t particularly fond of this horror sub-genre, for reasons I’ve heard range from boring to misogynistic, predictable, contrived, violent, exploitative, etc. While I don’t necessarily disagree with whom I’ve met of said ardent detractors, nor their reasons per se, the sub-genre of slasher to me personally, is both this fully-realized, yet ironically-campy-engaged modus operandi for which I occasionally can detach and enjoy with this purview of an atomized, simplistic-ish taste for primordial entertainment—or, in plain English, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I can separate my ‘critically-thinking cap’ if I feel the movie deserves it in-terms of payoff, for many reasons I won’t go into that could maybe take up an entire post just to justify my justification of enjoying said sub-genre (if that makes any sense).
All in all, slashers feel like this throwback, hallmark to a time where the cinema world, its sensibilities societally to politically, trend-wise, etc., etc. were so much different (though not just for a nostalgia for nostalgia’s sake sort of way, either, mind you) and there’s this, if you will, diffidence within me to come up with reasons to necessitate the often hyper-stylized if-sexualized brutalization of anachronistically-coded, memetic-loan-images of a woman’s body as shlock, though at the same time, contradictorily, I find there are also some meaningful, perhaps even disturbingly, traces of truth within the sub-genre, regardless of whatever filmmaker’s intentions (for example, John Carpenter has stated that his 1978 classic, Halloween contained socio-political subtext woven throughout the film).
In any case, while this post isn’t a defense nor apology for the sub-genre’s countless, soulless reiterations, revisits, remakes, missteps, mistakes, problematic artifacts, I’d thought I’d at-least put it out there that while I can enjoy, from time to time (especially nearing my favorite holiday of the year) the horror-filled rush of Some Guy With A Knife™, there’s also a conscientious part of me that remains acutely aware (or at-least, I would like to think so) of rampant criticisms (of which, I feel are valid) of this oh-so, ever-antiquated-yet-strangely-visceral sub-genre portraying Some Guy With A Knife™. For me, comparatively to other horror iconography such as ghosts, mummies, vampires, werewolves, demons, etc., what does it for me is an Occam’s Razor of animalistic horror of being hunted by Some Guy With A Knife™—in other words, there’s nothing so much as scary and basic than running about suburban-spaces redefined in scary context as a playground for Some Guy With A Knife™, and thus, that flip of comfort to creepy remains just so effective for me.
Also, just to unofficially codify what the moniker of slasher means to me, I’ll break it down (as to explain why films like Alien or Jaws or Dracula wouldn’t necessarily fit my particular definition, though I’m at-the-same-time not trying to define slasher authoritatively nor definitively for anyone else). So, for me, the recipe of a slasher will be as follows:
The killer is human-ish (this differentiates slasher versus, let’s say, monster movie).
There are a group of protagonists picked off (mostly) one by one by this killer.
The killer uses a non-firearm weapon (hence, the name, slasher and why I regret not to be including David Fincher’s impeccable horror-thriller-police-procedural-newsroom-period-piece, Zodiac).
A final ‘showdown’ between the remaining survivor(s) and the killer (versus let’s say, a mystery whodunit where there’s a reveal/apprehending of said killer).
Anyways, without further ado, here are some of my favorites I can think of off the top of my head:
#1. Halloween (1978)
Written by John Carpenter & Debra Hill
While I’ve written about this post in another list here, I will just reapply what I’ve written about this creepy movie: “Halloween is the one and only movie that’s ever truly frightened me. This film had the unfortunate success to help create the onslaught of copycat slasher flicks, but there’s a lot more to this movie than cheap thrills, jump scares, excess gore or whatnot. To me, most of John Carpenter’s early work has this “feel” that I can’t quite describe, but Halloween encapsulates the dark and lingering moodiness so prevalent in his filmography. Ghosts, monsters, the paranormal don’t do it for me, but Halloween’s antagonist is a goulash of the otherworldly and primal, a bogey but a man in a mask, the commixture of our childhood fears manifested. The plot while simple, can be viewed as a metaphor for class-consciousness or suburban racism, among other things. Later rereleases of this film destroyed the ambiance/tonality by intercutting additional unreleased footage of the “gore shots,” which completely take me out of it. What makes Halloween scary is what you don’t see, the implication, tension in shadow. If you haven’t ever seen this movie, do yourself a favor and make sure to watch the original theatrical cut; nothing of value is lost with any of the additional footage.”
#2. Phenomena (1985)
Written by Dario Argento
Once more, to take from another Top 10 List here, I’ll just copy what I initially wrote about this excellent cult-classic slasher: “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.”
#3. Us (2019)
Written by Jordan Peele
Okay, so this one I think barely makes the cut (no pun intended) for fitting the loose criteria for what I’d define as a bonafide slasher, and I might even go so far as to perhaps label this as a neo-slasher—a redefinition/revamp of the tried-and-true, some-decades-old formulaic tradition of what we know as a typical slasher, injecting a subversiveness, transgressive mixture of social commentary and horror-comedic satire, wholly self-aware and yet dramatically engaging nonetheless. I had the absolute blast and privilege of seeing this opening weekend and it was quite a visceral experience to hear everyone in the theatre teeter between full-on laughing and shrieking all within the same few moment’s notice. Everyone nowadays recognizes the incredible visionary work and undeniable brand of writer/director Jordan Peele, especially in-respects to the medium of horror and inverting various tropes on their head into self-actualized attestments to not his love of film as a filmmaker, but also as a person of color in America. There’s not a lot I can say here without spoiling the film for you, but this movie is both hilarious and scary, deep yet dually viscerally engaging, suspenseful and dramatic—two of the latter elements I feel, can get lost when a writer and/or filmmaker get too self-aware and tongue-in-cheek, wink-wink, nodding at the audience. My persona favorite of the Jordan Peele horror films I’ve seen so far, and an excellent take on a sub-genre of horror now hollowed and devoid of what it used to be.
#4. Candyman (1992)
Written by Clive Barker & Bernard Rose
Another on this list for containing socio-political-racial messaging, themes, motifs, subtext and outright on-the-nose plot elements, Candyman is an interesting meld of both social commentary and psychological-horror, with aspects of its historical narrative beholden to the greater (and much more realistic) atrocities/horror(s) of institutional and structural violence. Taking place what we now know as at the defunct urban projects of Cabrini Green, Chicago, Candyman stands out from its contemporaries by not absconding a heavily metropolized, inner-city setting of urban decay but instead leans into it, contextually transmogrifying backdrops of impoverished liminal spaces into a playground for a supernatural evil lurking within its very history and spirit. Our two leads here are both versatile and convincing without having to overplay the fact we’re watching a horror movie; Virginia Madsen does wonderfully as an awestruck, well-intentioned though somewhat naive student doing a project about the titular character, played just so iconically by Tony Todd that it’s already visually legendary (in my book), and their chemistry, interplay seemingly teeters naturally, from psycho-sexual to horrifying. The hook, the bees, the scenes—Candyman is a slasher classic, and I’d argue, for all the right reasons.
#5. Psycho (1960)
Written by Joseph Stefano & Robert Bloch
Some say this is in-fact, the first slasher of them all, or as others call it, a proto-slasher. And though Alfred Hitchcock had his fair share of documented issues, controversy, the man at-least knew how to make a compelling piece of film. Whether it’s Hitchcock’s direction, artful cinematography by John L. Russell, nothing-short-of-legendary performances by Anthony Perkins and Janet Leigh, or its wonderfully suspenseful score by Bernard Herrmann, Psycho is more than a visionary, prophetic horror-thriller well before its time, but a protogenesis of to establish the framework necessary for a number of films to follow in its spiritual footsteps (no, not Psycho’s sequels, but thinking more in-line of Italian giallo films, the likes of which Mario Bava, Dario Argento would later inhabit). Yes, there is some problematic optics involving the grand reveal (the likes of which I won’t get into, but yes, they’re here) that I feel perhaps even single-handedly created negative trope/stereotype coding about gender-non-conforming folks in Hollywood—although the film does try to explain it via its epilogue, however that’s besides the point. This is an excellent film, every bit as important and if-not foundational to the wider genre of Horror as a whole today as it was back then, and one of the only blockbuster films I can think of that takes place (albeit, even briefly) in Phoenix, Arizona.
#6. A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors (1987)
Written by Wes Craven, Frank Darabont, Chuck Russell and Bruce Wagner
Since I’ve already posted about this here, I’ll just leave my following writeup as follows: “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. Scream (1996)
Written by Wes Craven
If 2019’s Us can be seen as a purposeful subversion of what remnants remain of the slasher sub-genre, alongside 2022’s X by Ti West as the fundamental injection of arthouse and avant-garde into those same remnants, then perhaps we can also interpret Wes Craven’s 1996 Scream as though an indictment, if-not representational death of The Slasher as we know it. What I mean is, Scream is such a self-aware, poignant, funny, scary commentary on the slasher sub-genre itself, that it near feels as though the long-awaited, final nail on the coffin for slashers meta-textually, like this swan song meta-narratively, like not only is the script written for seasoned veterans whom’ve more-than-likely grew up watching franchises like Friday the 13th, Halloween, A Nightmare on Elm Street, but also to the everyday moviegoer, speaking to us that this recipe, formula for horror isn’t just dead as we know/knew it, but as well, that it’s been repeated so much to such an umpteenth and tenuous degree, we can now hold up the corpse of its facade as a charade to speak to what horror means on a greater basis. The self-referential nature of Scream works here, because of its irreverent, sarcastic tongue-in-cheek nods to what we should know (inserted as though selfsame composites to the ever oh-so-hip teen of the 1990’s), it then plays those same awarenesses against us by implicitly asking that if we knew we were in a horror movie, and furthermore, were aware of those established rules, how would we fare given all those things were true? Perhaps ironically, the series would only then continue to be a mockery of what it satirized, churning out sequels over sequels that seemed to have only lost what made the original so unique—that the killer we know as Ghostface is in some way, the ghost of the sub-genre of slasher having its revenge.
#8. My Bloody Valentine (1981)
Written by Stephen A. Miller & John Beaird
This is as campy, schlocky and 1980’s typified corny/cheesy/everything else you can imagine, and in all of the best, can’t-help-but-laugh-at-how-ridiculous-this-is-type ways for a horror movie. My Bloody Valentine is probably a film that punches above its weight and somehow transcends what would otherwise come across like another nameless Troma-worthy B-movie (though I tend to love Troma films, but that’s besides the point) as something to be remembered within the scope of its sub-genre. I mean, this is a horror film leaning in and justifying its killer rampage from a broken heart by the killer, and the way its done so is without a doubt so absurd, it’s actually sort of, oddly endearing—if that makes any sense (something 2001’s Valentine tried to abscond in favor of the self-referential Scream just years before it, but didn’t quite succeed for reasons I won’t go into here). The imagery, the setting, the laughably-absurd sensibilities portrayed by a group of teens who are by all means, ecstatic about throwing a Valentine’s Day party a hop, skip and jump away from a mine is just…well, it’s really unforgettable in that Troll 2 sort of way. While of-course, I wouldn’t go on record to say My Bloody Valentine is scary whatsoever, it’s fun, even if it did cement a certain ridiculousness that would soon plague the slasher sub-genre for years to follow.
#9. Halloween II (2009)
Written by Rob Zombie
I think Rob Zombie’s Halloween II (especially director’s cut) is a vastly misunderstood film. Many hardcore fans of the franchise seethed at Zombie’s first iteration/reimagining, with much of the criticisms, vitriol of his remake boiling down to the de-mythologization of The Shape’s identity, giving Michael Myers an even sympathetic background, depicting his upbringing from a broken home, as opposed to what was formerly something fundamentally Evil without rhyme nor reason. While 2007’s Halloween was more of an origin’s story, I feel Halloween II is a much darker, cerebral film examining not how, but why the aforementioned Shape continues to exist, villainously killing at-random, for which, the film explores his psyche through music-video-y vignettes involving his late-mother with these ephemeral, juxtaposing sequences that could be described aesthetically as a sort of Salvador-Dali-esque, gothic transfusion which depict a sort of hallucinatory-psychosis. The film opens with a pseudo-Jungian explanation of the white horse archetype—something I feel that while perhaps isn’t too forthright, nevertheless serves revelatory for the film’s meta-textual analysis of what goes on in the mind of Frankenstein. This reiteration of Michael Myers is unequivocally brutal, graphic and gory, the world around him if-not uglier in-contrast (something I feel Zombie intentionally contrasts visually and even logically—with so much dysfunction of our world, there has to be a blowback, or i.e., consequence), while there’s this carnival-y energy about the film, as though even if we as the audience can’t identify/empathize with all the victims, there’s nonetheless some shock, horror that exists if-purely on the merit of being hunted by such a physically imposing incarnation of evil. There’s also correlations with Malcolm McDowell’s unhinged portrayal of Dr. Loomis who exploitatively profiteers off of Michael Myers that I think, lends to the film’s implicit thesis about what we know as evil perhaps satiating a taboo for society’s grim, macabre fascination with death and violence—along with those who peddle said content, or in-effect, live off of death. Lastly, this film is one of few in horror that I feel, depicts PTSD somewhat fairly (albeit, detethered from its absurd circumstances) in that, depicting just how unraveling, debilitating, frustratingly-complex, even non-linear it can be to manage, treat, and ultimately, survive.
#10: Friday the 13th: The New Blood (1988)
Written by Daryl Haney, Manuel Fidello & Victor Miller
Basically, the subtitle you could ostensibly fit in for The New Blood could be some form, variant of Carrie Versus Jason, in a nutshell. Do I think what fans of the series refer to as Part 7 of Friday the 13th film franchise is certainly the best? Nowhere near; in-fact, I think besides of the fact that this film in-particular got severely gutted by the MPAA in order to avoid an X-rating (if you watch the movie, there’s pretty noticeable gaps of reel missing/cut between setup>surprise>kill sequences, in my opinion), this is one of those where the idea of it seems to be forever/infinitely more satisfying than what was executed. The unintentional camp is ‘over 9000’ here, lots of the acting feels stilted bordering-on-satirization/comedy, the script comes off as though it was finished by the seat of the writers’ pants, et-freaking-cetera—okay, for sure this film is a gemstone in the rough, perhaps not a diamond per se, but I think beyond its imperfections (to which, I feel are ultimately a de facto part of a corny 1980’s drive-thru, popcorn and candy experience) is a schlocky, campy monster movie masquerading as a slasher. The protagonist is compelling enough (to a degree…), the premise of the film somehow works (when it does…), and on a basic level, it’s memorable enough to warrant a watch compared to other films in its own franchise, and finally, I enjoy the crux of what idea went behind it (ala’ A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors—i.e., blending/mashup of genre), and because of its relatively faster pacing, can stomach it better than others in the series which (in my opinion, obvi) attempt to dress up these dime-a-dozen flicks into something more than what they are at their core: the quintessential, sleazy 1980’s slasher.
Sidenote: If looking for a ‘better’ entry to this series, Part VI: Jason Lives is a great monster-slasher drive-thru flick. Pound for pound the better slasher per se, Friday the 13th: Part II through Part III and up to (Part IV): The Final Chapter are what I would say are good places to start with Jason.
