A Bay of Blood
The hinge between giallo and slasher. Friday the 13th Part 2 lifts two murders almost shot for shot.
1974 onward · 61 films
A masked man, a holiday, and a group of teenagers with one survivor. The genre's most abused formula.
The slasher is the most formulaic thing in horror and the most commercially reliable. A killer, a set of victims, a sequence of deaths, a final survivor.
Not from Psycho, whatever people say. It comes from the giallo, and specifically from Bava. Black Christmas (1974) has the killer's-eye camera, the sorority house, the holiday setting and the phone calls, four years before Halloween, and is still the most frightening film in this category.
Halloween (1978) cost around 300,000 dollars and made 70 million. Its innovations are structural rather than gory: Michael Myers has no motive, no dialogue and no face, and the film contains almost no blood. Carpenter wrote the score himself in three days because the first cut tested badly without one.
Friday the 13th (1980) copied the formula, added Tom Savini's effects, and proved the model worked without any of Carpenter's craft. What followed was five years of holidays: Valentine's Day, prom night, graduation day, April Fool's Day. Most are indefensible on any grounds except affection.
A Nightmare on Elm Street (1984) breaks the format by making the killer supernatural and giving him a personality, which was a mistake the sequels rode into the ground. Scream (1996) restarts it by having the characters know the rules, which worked exactly once and produced a decade of films that mistook referencing for wit.
Carol Clover named her in 1992: the survivor, usually the one who does not drink or sleep with anyone, who takes up the weapon at the end. The argument that the slasher is straightforwardly punitive about sex does not survive watching very many of them, but the pattern is real and the films are aware of it by 1996 at the latest.
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The hinge between giallo and slasher. Friday the 13th Part 2 lifts two murders almost shot for shot.
D'Amato remaking his own Anthropophagous as a Halloween knock-off. Grim and dull in equal measure.
Famous for two shots and unwatchable between them. George Eastman wrote himself the title role.
A young man carries his surgically-separated deformed twin in a wicker basket, and they are taking revenge.
The first gore film. Shot in four days for 24,500 dollars and it looks it, which is half the appeal.
Jess Franco doing a slasher for German money. Contains the stone-saw scene and little else.
The shadow-puppet sequences are the best thing in it. A sequel that is actually about the original.
Philip Glass wrote the score believing it was an art film. That mistake is why it sounds like nothing else.
Hooper's follow-up to Chain Saw, shot entirely on a sound stage lit in red. A hotel, a scythe and a crocodile.
A Vietnam veteran, a vigilante group and a plot that gives up. Not the Lamberto Bava one.
Shot in Utah for 100,000 dollars with a score that never stops. Beloved by a small and stubborn group.
Clint Howard, a military academy, a computer and a lot of pigs. Better than it has any right to be.
The film that named New French Extremity in the popular imagination, and its ending is still being argued about.
A slasher shot entirely from behind the killer, at walking pace, with no score. A formal experiment that works.
One rule, followed exactly. The most frightening use of a wide shot in modern horror.
A deaf teacher, a disfigured twin and a rottweiler. Shot in Savannah and better made than most of the list.
Joe Spinell wrote himself the lead and Tom Savini blew his own head off on camera.
An Aztec-obsessed killer in New Orleans. A Blood Feast remake in all but name, and slower.
The weakest of West's trilogy and still a better-shot 1985 Los Angeles than most films manage.
Susan Tyrrell as the aunt, giving a performance far too committed for the film around it.
The distributor went to prison over this one. The only DPP case that put a man behind bars.
Argento's last great film, and the needles taped under the eyes are the image of his career.
Technicolor melodrama with a pitchfork. Mia Goth's final monologue is a single unbroken take.
Satoshi Kon's animated thriller about a pop idol losing herself, and Aronofsky bought the remake rights just to reuse a shot.
A chainsaw killer on a Boston campus, made by Spaniards, and it is gloriously incoherent.
A dorm over Christmas break and a plot that runs out. Notable mainly for an early Daphne Zuniga.
Roughly 40 percent flashback to the first film. A sequel assembled rather than made.
An Australian wellness influencer at a hen weekend. Much sharper and much nastier than the premise suggests.
A cheap, badly acted summer camp slasher with an ending that has been argued about for forty years.
Argento's late return to the giallo, with Max von Sydow as a retired detective and a genuine nursery-rhyme killer.
A killer in a giant owl mask trapped in a theatre with a dance troupe. Michele Soavi's debut and the best late giallo.
Told out of order in six chapters, shot on 35mm by Giovanni Ribisi. The structure is the whole trick.
Argento's last great giallo, and the one with the three-minute crane shot up the side of a house.
Unrated, made for very little, outgrossed studio horror, and the effects are the entire proposition.
A motorcycle killer in Boston with a kukri. Rachel Ward's debut and a real giallo influence.
A fake trailer from Grindhouse turned into a real slasher, and it is a very good one.
Vincent Price murders the surgeons who let his wife die, each death based on the plagues of Egypt. A gorgeous, deranged art deco comedy.
Vincent Price as a hammy actor murdering the critics who denied him an award, each death staged from Shakespeare.
A group of Black friends at a cabin play a racist board game that traps them, and the whole film is the joke that the Black character always dies first.
A haunted mirror and a Halloween score Ulli Lommel could not afford to license properly.
The best film on the prosecuted list. Savini's raft scene is why it was on it.
A machine for explaining why every other film on this site is shaped the way it is.
Hooper on a real budget with Rick Baker's monster. Nowhere near nasty enough to be on this list.
An Australian teenager says no to a girl for the school dance, and she holds her own dance instead.
A painter's nightmares kill people on an off-season island. Genuinely atmospheric and badly underrated.
Almost bloodless and completely unbearable. Heat, noise and exhaustion doing all the work.
The first fifteen minutes are notorious. The remaining seventy are a different and much duller film.
The giallo at its most slasher-like, and the last act is a genuine masterclass in silent suspense.
Shyamalan's high-concept swing: a serial killer takes his daughter to a pop concert that is a police trap for him.
Four interlocking Halloween stories and the best anthology since Creepshow. Warner shelved it for two years.
Three women, a mansion, rain, and a twist. Shot in Oregon and stranger than its reputation.
The premise does not survive scrutiny and the film is so well made you will not care until afterwards.
Michael Ironside stalking a hospital. A real cast, a real budget, and no business being on the list.
Anna Kendrick's directorial debut, about the serial killer who appeared on The Dating Game mid-spree.
Competent, well shot, and exactly what it says. Stan Winston did the mutants.