Frozen
Three people stuck on a chairlift. Almost nothing else, and that is enough.
486 entries, from the 1931 Universal cycle to last year. Curated, not exhaustive: a short shelf of things worth knowing about beats a long one nobody can navigate.
251 films · page 4 of 7
Three people stuck on a chairlift. Almost nothing else, and that is enough.
Real sharks, no cages, 130,000 dollars. The horror is arithmetic: how long does a person float?
Nazi zombies with a real budget and a unusually good first act. Better than the premise deserves.
Soderbergh shoots the entire film from the ghost's point of view, handheld, in long takes. It works.
The Production Code would not let a child murderer go free, so it ends with a spanking. See it anyway.
A dinner party where you spend ninety minutes unsure whether the host is grieving or dangerous.
Tourists, a Mayan pyramid and a plant with intent. Nastier than its reputation.
Wes Craven in Haiti, adapting a real ethnobotanist's account of the drug behind zombie folklore.
Gareth Evans doing folk horror with the fight choreography left in. Much nastier than expected.
A punk band plays the wrong venue. Jeremy Saulnier does not flinch and neither does the film.
Two coroners, one body, one basement. A masterclass in escalating a single location.
Jane Eyre relocated to a Caribbean sugar plantation, and it is the most beautiful film in this category.
Kathryn Bigelow's vampires are a violent family in a camper van. The word is never used.
Technicolor melodrama with a pitchfork. Mia Goth's final monologue is a single unbroken take.
Dumped by the studio with no marketing, runs 137 minutes, and has a 20-minute prologue people rave about.
James Whale between the two Frankensteins, having a wonderful time, and Karloff is the least of it.
Four interlocking Halloween stories and the best anthology since Creepshow. Warner shelved it for two years.
William Friedkin directing a two-hander in a motel room about shared delusion, and it is not what the trailer sold.
Val Lewton was told to make a film from a title and a poster. He made one about a woman afraid of her own desire.
Joe Dante's Jaws cash-in, written by John Sayles, and it is far smarter and funnier than it needed to be.
A fake trailer from Grindhouse turned into a real slasher, and it is a very good one.
Rob Zombie's second film, and it turns the killers from his first into the protagonists, which should not work.
Rebecca Hall carrying a film about grief with unusual use of negative space.
Makes them fast and talkative. Easily the funniest film in this category, and a bleak ending under the jokes.
The first zombie film, made independently, with Lugosi controlling the dead on a Haitian sugar plantation.
A descent into the Paris catacombs that becomes a descent into hell, shot for real under the city.
A dinner party the night a comet passes, and reality starts to fork. Shot in one house in five nights.
Seventy years on, the series returns to what it was for: the war, the guilt, and the cost.
Nicolas Cage, a chainsaw duel and Jóhann Jóhannsson's last score. Not for everyone and not trying to be.
The weakest of West's trilogy and still a better-shot 1985 Los Angeles than most films manage.
A tall undertaker, a flying silver sphere, and a film that runs entirely on dream logic. Don Coscarelli was 23.
Unrated, made for very little, outgrossed studio horror, and the effects are the entire proposition.
A prequel nobody wanted that turned out to be the best-directed studio horror of its year.
Rob Bottin was 21. Released months from American Werewolf and between them they finished the subgenre.
A slow western for 90 minutes, then one scene people never forget. You will know it when it starts.
James Wan spending studio money on something deranged. The third act is one of the great swerves.