Blood Rites
Andy Milligan shooting in Staten Island with a hand-held Auricon. An acquired taste nobody acquires.
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.
33 films
Andy Milligan shooting in Staten Island with a hand-held Auricon. An acquired taste nobody acquires.
A student's guilt drags everyone he knows into a Buddhist hell, and the last third is that hell in detail.
Brazil's first horror film, made by a man who invented himself as a character and played him for fifty years.
A plane crash, an alien blob, and the single most striking red sky in Japanese genre film. Tarantino borrowed it.
The film that started the nazisploitation cycle. Lee Frost, a backlot, and no defence available.
A luchadora, a heart transplant from a gorilla, and real open-heart surgery footage spliced in.
A Carpathian village, a dead girl with a white ball, and Fellini borrowed the image wholesale.
Toho's mushroom people, made by the Godzilla team, and it is far bleaker than its reputation.
Hammer's only zombie film, set in a Cornish village, and it beat Romero to the mass grave by two years.
The first gore film. Shot in four days for 24,500 dollars and it looks it, which is half the appeal.
Two women murdered by samurai return as cats bound by a promise to drink the blood of every samurai they meet.
A Martian spacecraft under a London tube station, and it explains the Devil.
Christopher Lee as the hero for once, and the best script Hammer ever filmed.
Vincent Price with the camp switched off, torturing people in English summer sunshine.
Hammer's only werewolf film, Oliver Reed's first lead, and the transformation is largely his face.
Bava's proto-giallo, the film that invented the template, shot in gorgeous black and white in Rome.
Three Bava stories introduced by Boris Karloff, and the middle one is the most frightening thing Bava shot.
Made for 33,000 dollars by an industrial film-maker in Kansas, and it looks like a dream somebody had.
The best of Corman's Poe cycle, shot by Nicolas Roeg on sets left over from Becket.
Two women murder soldiers in a sea of susuki grass in fourteenth-century Japan. The grass is the antagonist.
The giallo template, and still the best-looking film in the category.
Blonde children with glowing eyes and no interest in you. Efficient, cold, 77 minutes.
The Turn of the Screw done perfectly, and it never once tells you whether the ghosts are real.
Bava could not afford colour and made the best-looking gothic ever shot. Barbara Steele's face did the rest.
Four ghost stories on hand-painted sound stages, three hours long, and among the most beautiful films ever made.
Shows you nothing for two hours and is more frightening than anything that shows you everything.
The only horror film made in the Soviet Union, and the last twenty minutes are extraordinary.
Ended Powell's career in Britain because it puts the audience behind the camera and knows it.
Polanski's first English film. A flat, a woman, and hands coming out of the walls.
A surgeon steals faces for his disfigured daughter. Filmed with a tenderness that makes it far worse.
A film about a woman whose body and doctor and husband are all making decisions without her.
Invented the modern zombie, lost its own copyright, and has one of the bleakest endings ever filmed.
No score, no explanation, no resolution. Hitchcock withholding everything and getting away with it.