5. “Annihilation”
It’s not a traditional horror by any stretch, but fear comes in many forms. And in “Annihilation,” director Alex Garland’s latest thought-provoking sci-fi bender is an existential nightmare that examines the terrors of evolution, mutation, personal inertia and self-destruction through the bioluminescent lens of something breathtakingly prismatic and impressionistic. In “Annihilation”—about a guilt-ridden widow and emotionally wounded biologist (Natalie Portman) and a group of women (all dealing with their own psychological injuries (Tessa Thompson, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Gina Rodriguez, Tuva Novotny) who signs up for a dangerous, secret expedition into a mysterious zone where the laws of nature don’t apply— haunting sounds, a pulsating score and arresting visuals unlocks a level of primal terror rarely evoked by classic horror films. A trippy mind-bender as much as it unsettling look at ourselves—reflections of who we are that are so disturbing, we shatter in the face of these images—”Annihilation” is something of a mystery that doesn’t want to be solved. Its stunning cinematography leaves clues, but it’s meant to confound and confuse, leaving the audience as disturbed as its characters. Though Jeff Vandermeer’s novel is a fantasy triumph, this is the rare adaptation that improves on its source material, evoking equal parts horror and wonder, engaging the brain as much as it does the emotions in its narrative of destruction and evolution. – KM
4. “Mandy”
Panos Cosmatos’ buzzed-about sophomore feature and psychedelic death metal revenge nightmare is not quite an exploration of toxic masculinity and fragile male egos (though some of these self-aggrandizing occult dudes are pretty fucking sad), but a movie featuring a chainsaw fight between two dudes and who has the “bigger” chainsaw, is just some A+ metaphorical imagery for 2018. But for all its spiritualist cosmic insanity, “Mandy” is a love story, or at least a blood-soaked phantasmagorical vengeance and odyssey deeply rooted in love and tragedy. But the tragedy of “Mandy” isn’t merely the paramour’s (Andrea Riseborough) fate, or Red’s (Nicolas Cage) primal revenge on sadistic cult leader Jeremiah Sand (Linus Roache), but that the warning signs are never read. In a secluded paradise in the Pacific Northwest woods, the radio cautions of a great “spiritual awakening in America” and the growing disapproval of pornography, the transgressive and the outsider. The characters of this movie aren’t listening to the dangers outside their bubble, and wait, are you trying to forewarn us about the noxious culture war that is slowly killing us all? Amidst the film’s haunting, dread-soaked atmosphere (thanks to career-best work from the late composer Johann Johansson), richly-detailed love story between Mandy and Red, and the Clive Barker-esque imagery and the grotesque Cenobite demons, the moral of “Mandy” is to stay informed, and not ignore the horrors of the world festering around you. And if you are going to bury your head in the sand, you best be ready for catastrophe with a large, sharp chainsaw at the ready. – RO
3. “Halloween (2018)”
There’s no one way to skin a cat, or a horror movie. Two of the great horror movies of 2018 are remakes, but both have fundamentally different approaches. One fully reimagines (“Suspiria“), the other, “Halloween” decides to examine legacy and all of its connotations. In reinventing “Halloween” and creating a new sequel to John Carpenter’s 1978 version of “Halloween,” director David Gordon Green disregards the legacy of the “Halloween” franchise, tossing years of canon aside. But what he does honor and take deadly seriously is the legacy of its female protagonist. Green and his co-writers take a realistic look at the legacy of trauma: what such an unspeakably evil thing would have done to Laurie Strode (Jamie Lee Curtis) and her family. We see zillions of movie directors speak about the PTSD their characters grapple with, but rarely do we see it comes from such a place of empathy and indignation. It may not be sexual assault that traumatizes Laurie Strode for life and leaves the film with a troubling echo of #MeToo, leaves her as a damaged emotional wreck. and estranges her from her daughter (Judy Greer) and granddaughter (Andi Matichak), but her Michael Meyers assault was a profane, ungodly violation and that’s how it’s treated. “Halloween” 2018 is a movie about a survivor of assault and how’s she’s been scarred for life which is an amazing place to launch a movie from (and in many ways shows deep respect for Laurie Strode and what she went through). It’s almost as if the rest of the movie is gravy from there. “Michael killed five people, and he’s a human being. I’ve been divorced twice, and I’m a basket case,” Laurie tells a couple of investigative journalists diving into Michael’s file. The emotional distress and gender double-standard give this latest iteration its greatest strength. From there, it’s on. Green leans heavily into Michael’s uncompromising brutality, and the film is so genuinely chilling, engaging and character-based, that it earns its violence. It also earns the title as the funniest “Halloween” film too as perverse as that is. It’s an emotionally painful and claustrophobic movie and its gut-wrenching, frightening, but also emotionally cathartic to see Laurie face her greatest fear head on. “Halloween” is terrifying because it considers the psychology and trauma of its story and its lead and lord, if creators are constantly going to put women through the grinder of a horror movie, let’s try and hear her story, shall we? – Rodrigo Perez
2. “Suspiria”
How do you remake one of the most iconic, experiential horror films ever made? You don’t and you don’t even try. Laying waste to everything that came before it, including the kaleidoscopic aesthetic and the twinkling prog-rock score by Goblin, director Luca Guadagnino (“Call Me By Your Name“) razes the ground of “Suspiria” and yet still creates his own unique, unholy, breathtaking sensory experience. From those ashes, Guadagnino is left with a foundation of a late 1970s Germany, a dance company and the competitiveness that comes with it, a conspiracy and a coven of ungodly witches. From there, a deeply blasphemous reimagining is born; an erotic pitch-black ooze of evil, sex, sweat, breath, and blood. Guadagnino heavily leans into the punishing corporeal physicality of dance and pushes it to its limits, he leverages the depressed, drab mood of 1977 Berlin, and digs into the idea of the sacrilegious and perverted nature of the occult from a feminine perspective. Guadagnino strips the “are there or aren’t there witches?” narrative thrust and uses the coven-disguised-as-a-dance-studio to tell a sprawling, meditative epic in war-torn Berlin about how the guilt of men is a burden often projected onto women—and how that dynamic should be burned to a ground in spectacular fashion— and the fear and hopefulness that comes during a transition of power. Borrowing from the likes of Jodorowski, Polanski and even the Germanic-ness of Rainer Werner Fassbender, the filmmaker crafts a blood, sex magick orgy that is outrageous and spellbinding. It’s a dense, layered, and hypnotic film that eschews the original, stands on its own and it will someday be mentioned alongside the all-time horror greats. – RO
1. “Hereditary”
On some level, we’re all cursed. We’ve all inherited at least one toxic emotional injury that has been passed down from our parents. And we’re likely going to carry that burden and insecurity to the grave, while passing it on to the next generation. It’s a bleak, gut-wrenchingly painful existential anxiety to grapple with and it’s the launching pad for Ari Aster‘s phenomenal debut film, “Hereditary” (it landed at #3 on our site’s “25 Best Films of 2018” list). Something of an ice-cold chamber family drama, “Hereditary” at first, Aster’s picture is practically a modern riff on Ingmar Bergman, but his patience pays off when a frigid, lack of communication and classic toxic family relations curdle into something much more sinister. It’s arguably almost two halves of two different films, but Aster’s haunting picture creates a mood of dread that unifies throughout. Beyond the confident direction, sweat-dripping tension, unsettling score and the “can’t-take-your-eyes-off-her” performance by Toni Collette, it’s easy to see the film struck a nerve this summer; Aster’s craft is undeniable, and the movie features the biggest appears-outta-nowhere, make-your-screech-aloud scare of the last few years, but it would mean nothing if you didn’t deeply empathize with the poor, tragic troubled family at every turn. (even mainstream audiences that couldn’t take to its chilly slow-burn-ness aren’t likely to forget it anytime soon). It’s emotion, even seeming lack of it, is its dark black ace in the hole. Because “Hereditary” is about the horror, bitterness and resent of family, the shared poisonous blood that runs through our veins and that hex which acts as a forever distressing reminder: you can run, but never truly escape who you are and what you came from. Aster’s got some serious issues that he has to reconcile, and thank god he’s chosen cinema rather than therapy to work it all out. – RP