21 Favorite Horror Films Of 2021
2021 was a treasure trove of horror treats. These are our favorites.
I keep seeing posts about how 2021 sucked for horror. But I totally disagree. Amidst an ongoing pandemic, even with theaters opening back up again, you still had to scrounge around a little bit to uncover some excellent, shiny gems. It’s no secret this year has been one of the worst, at least personally, so I found my taste in films reflecting that. I wanted catharsis and escape in equal measure, so my picks for 21 Favorite Horror Films of 2021 are all over the place. One minute, I needed to wander through a campy slasher film, and the next, I sought out the emotionally pulverizing. And then there’s those that seem to make your skin crawl in waves.
Before you dive into the list, I would like to shout-out a few honorable mentions, those films which nearly made the list and deserve proper recognition. Those are: the goofy, pants-strangling Slaxx, mumblecore slasher Death Trip, queer horror The Strings, the messy Halloween Kills, and the blood-guzzling Jakob’s Wife.
Now, without further adieu, here are my top picks of the year:
The Night House
(director David Bruckner)
There are few horror films that capture the complete scope of mental health and suicide quite as effectively as The Night House. On a screenplay written by Ben Collins and Luke Piotrowski, director David Bruckner (The Ritual) drowns you in fear, psychological terror, and desperation. It’s damn near suffocating. [Read my personal essay over on Bloody Disgusting]
Saint Maud
(director Rose Glass)
As far as feature film debuts go, Rose Glass demonstrates sheer brilliance in her exploration of religious-based trauma and institutional delusion. Katie, once a nurse, now a tortured zealot, is one of the great tragic figures in all of cinema history. The very last frame is enough to burn directly into your eyeballs. [Read my personal essay right here on B-Sides & Badlands]
The Wanting Mare
(director Nicholas Ashe Bateman)
The Wanting Mare is ahead of its time. There’s not nearly enough ongoing conversation on this absolutely arresting piece of storytelling; from the magical sheen covering the film to director Nicholas Ashe Bateman’s nosedive into existentialism and what it means to really live, this sci-fi/fantasy epic is nothing short of a masterpiece. [Read my more in-depth review right here on B-Sides & Badlands]
My Heart Can’t Beat Unless You Tell It To
(director Jonathan Cuartas)
Director Jonathan Cuartas filters addiction through a vampiric lens, a genius move to present the reality of addiction plainly and honestly. A hypnotic slow-burn, My Heart Can’t Beat Unless You Tell It To tells the tale of familial bonds ripped to shreds with scalpel precision. [Read my personal essay over on Bloody Disgusting]
Bloodthirsty
(director Amelia Moses)
Werewolf lore has been established, expanded, rehashed, and retreaded dozens of times through the years. It’s difficult to find anything delivering fresh, exciting ideas, yet Amelia Moses’ Bloodthirsty does so in spades. While reapplying ancient mythos, the writer/director analyzes popstardom and hunger for validation through a delightfully queer and bloody framework. [Read my more in-depth review here on B-Sides & Badlands]
Werewolves Within
(director Josh Ruben)
Only his second spin in the director’s chair (feature films), Josh Ruben is an absolute delight. Werewolves Within pulses with tremendous heart, cinematic care, and a clear adoration for horror storytelling. He reels you in on the promise of fang-toothed carnage, and you stay for the wonderfully hilarious whodunnit.
Malignant
(director James Wan)
Leave it to James Wan to concoct the wildest film of the year. Malignant insidiously creeps into your skull, a stylish and soapy horror drama, and takes a totally bonkers left turn in the third act. It drips with melodrama, while utilizing unresolved childhood trauma as its thematic base.
Fear Street (Trilogy)
(director Leigh Janiak)
Based on R.L. Stines’ series of books, Fear Street rearranges such horror sub-genres as slashers and the occult to craft a compelling, queer-centric story about love, murder, and retribution. Split into three stories, 1994, 1978, and 1666, the breakout trilogy celebrates tradition while inviting a fresh, progressive vantage point.
Come True
(director Anthony Scott Burns)
Sleep paralysis is an utter nightmare. In Anthony Scott Burns’ Come True, the writer/director full-body submerges the viewer into a boiling cauldron of shadowy figures, skin-peeling sounds, and images to leave you further paralyzed. It’s an immense concept that packs a punch, largely owed to Julia Sarah Stone’s captivating performance. [Read my personal essay right here on B-Sides & Badlands]
Censor
(director Prano Bailey-Bond)
In her directorial debut, Prano Bailey-Bond mines the Video Nasty era of British Horror, a time when many films were deemed too violent 一 and were heavily censored or outright banned. Censor also manages to analyze childhood trauma and one young woman’s inability to move on, finding herself spiraling out of control in her own delusions.
Candyman
(direct Nia DaCosta)
Destiny’s Child’s “Say My Name” was used in promotional trailers, but it also became a rallying cry to remind viewers that Candyman is very much Nia DaCosta’s work. Candyman is a powerful and enlightened refresh to the 1992 original, as it doubles down on themes of race, economic inequality, and police brutality.
Lucky
(director Natasha Kermani)
In a post-Scream world, slashers need 一 no, they require 一 smarter writing and grittier explorations in genre and style. Natasha Kermani’s Lucky stars Brea Grant and stages the misogynistic real world as some sick, sadistic slasher maze. Grant’s character is murdered over and over again, each death pulling her closer into the killer’s disgusting atmosphere. [Read my more in-depth review right here on B-Sides & Badlands]
Benny Loves You
(director Karl Holt)
Getting older can be the pits. Karl Holt’s horror/comedy Benny Loves You retools the killer doll template as an allegory for holding onto your youthful wonder. When confronted with adulthood, 35-year-old Jack packs up his childhood memorabilia, including his plushie Benny, but Benny won’t have it. The price for betrayal may just be buckets of blood. [Read my more in-depth review right here on B-Sides & Badlands]
Last Night in Soho
(director Edgar Wright)
Akin to Malignant, Last Night in Soho is a giallo-fluffed dream through bonkersville. Lush lighting and camera work mark Edgar Wright’s latest creation as an absolute visual feast. When Eloise takes up residence in a London apartment, allegedly the scene of grisly murders, you may just lose your own grip on reality in the process.
Till Death
(director Scott Dale)
Megan Fox is a national treasure. Alongside a broader cultural reassessment of Jennifer’s Body, Fox made quite a bloody splash with Till Death. Directed by Scott Dale, the snow-bound thriller acts as almost a spiritual sequel to the once-maligned teen horror flick, finding Fox’s character trapped in a loveless marriage and then forced to fight for her life.
Son
(director Ivan Kavanagh)
Elements of expectation are initially distracting, but Andi Matichak’s emotionally-grueling performance sucks you in. Before you realize, Ivan Kavanagh’s Son hypnotizes you, dragging you long into a dark cavernous tunnel around a young woman’s weary combat against a sinister cult. Sometimes, trusty conventions are so effectively delivered that you need little else.
Knocking
(director Frida Kempff)
Frida Kempff’s Knocking creeps under the fingernails with a suffocating level of unease. It’s a textbook case of the unreliable narrator 一 or is it? Is it all in your head or a trick of the camera? Maybe we’re never supposed to know; but all I know is Cecilia Milocco gives the performance of a lifetime.
The Boy Behind the Door
(directors Justin Powell and David Charbonier)
Lonnie Chavis and Ezra Dewey had one helluva year. Co-directed by Justin Powell David Charbonier, The Boy Behind the Door tests the will power of two young boys, who find themselves in the clutches of a child molester/murderer. They’ll do anything to survive, even if it means crossing ambiguous moral lines. [Read my more in-depth review right here on B-Sides & Badlands]
The Medium
(director Banjong Pisanthanakun)
Don’t let the bulky runtime dissuade you from witnessing Banjong Pisanthanakun’s The Medium. It’s got the gnarly imagery of “Safe Haven,” Timo Tjahjanto’s segment in V/H/S/2, with its own severed and bleeding heart. A mockumentary dipped in a possession story, the film horrifies and rattles to the core.
Death Drop Gorgeous
(directors Michael Ahern, Christopher Dalpe, and Brandon Perras)
Death Drop Gorgeous is a perfect example of making the most out of a shoestring budget. Its DIY coarseness is vital to its overall charm, and the trio of directors work overtime to deliver soapy queer drama and nauseating kills 一 the best of all involving a penis and a meat grinder.
Sound of Violence
(director Alex Noyer)
Ahead of her role in Scream, Jasmin Savoy Brown dazzled this year in Alex Noyer’s Sound of Violence, starring as an aspiring music producer who uncovers her childhood trauma as fuel to her artistry. Things naturally go south, when said trauma leads her down a dark, dangerous path to use real human pain as inspiration. [Read my more in-depth review right here on B-Sides & Badlands]
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