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USA Today
2 days ago
- Entertainment
- USA Today
Happy Friday the 13th! Here are the 25 best scary movies to watch
Happy Friday the 13th! Here are the 25 best scary movies to watch Show Caption Hide Caption Jamie Lee Curtis calls latest 'Halloween' films 'masterpieces' Jamie Lee Curtis chats with USA TODAY's Brian Truitt about "Halloween Ends" and her run as "final girl" Laurie Strode. Entertain This!, USA TODAY Love movies? Live for TV? USA TODAY's Watch Party newsletter has all the best recommendations, delivered right to your inbox. Sign up now and be one of the cool kids. Face it, folks, we're all going to die. Whether it's via natural causes or the business end of Michael Myers' kitchen knife landing in your head, death is inevitable. Because that clock is ticking, why not revisit some scary classics or – if you're a horror virgin – check them out for the very first time? (And perhaps last, because, you know. See above. Hey, we don't make the rules.) We put together a tried-and-true list of 25 old-school favorites, influential giants and hidden gems worth a watch before that creepy girl who crawled out of the TV kills you. Or, if you're not really in the dying mood, to celebrate Friday the 13th as you avoid a looming doom. (Sorry, Jason Voorhees, you don't make the cut. Don't take it personally. And watch where you point that machete, buster.) Dig in. IF YOU DARE: Looking for a Halloween horror film? We rank the 75 best of this century. 1. 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari' (1920) Though modern eyes might not initially understand the appeal of the silent film – one of the first horror flicks ever – spend some time with the tale of a sleepwalker (Conrad Veidt) hypnotized into murder, immerse yourself in the striking German expressionist imagery and get wowed by an early twist ending. 2. 'The Bride of Frankenstein' (1935) You can't go wrong with any of the classic Universal monsters (Dracula, Wolf Man, Mummy) but this is a two-for-one extravaganza in which Boris Karloff reprises his role as Frankenstein's Monster and Elsa Lanchester is the bride with the lightning-zapped hair. 3. 'Horror of Dracula' (1958) Hollywood has given us many Draculas over the years, from Bela Lugosi to Gary Oldman, though it's Britain's Hammer Horror banner that gave us the most fearsome take in a ferociously fanged Christopher Lee and pitted him against Peter Cushing's famed vampire hunter Van Helsing. 4. 'The Birds' (1963) Alfred Hitchcock's "Psycho" featured a cross-dressing killer with a thing for showers. At least you can avoid seedy motels to steer clear of that guy. Squadrons of seemingly innocent feathered fiends turning sinister and pecking at your face is a next-level threat. 5. 'Night of the Living Dead' (1968) If you're going to watch one zombie movie, George Romero's original chiller is the granddaddy of them all. Even a half-century later, the undead ghouls that descend upon survivors in a Pennsylvania farm house are timeless and the gut-punch ending couldn't be more timely. 6. 'The Exorcist' (1973) William Friedkin's movie about innocence lost and the power of faith has unnerved several generations, and it's Linda Blair's harrowing portrayal of a possessed girl and the deeper meanings about good and evil that'll stick with you more than the infamous images of a spinning head or inappropriately used crucifix. 7. 'Jaws' (1975) Hey, it's a throwback to when people opened up the beaches too soon not because of a contagious disease but because of a killer shark. Steven Spielberg's original summer blockbuster unleashed a great white that put a dangerous edge on the waterlogged adventure. 8. 'Halloween' (1978) John Carpenter's slash-terpiece introduced an iconic masked maniac to babysitting Jamie Lee Curtis and an unsuspecting Illinois suburbia. Pick your villainous poison from the likes of Freddy, Jason and Leatherface, but Michael Myers' mythology and an all-too-realistic streak makes "Halloween" a cut above. 9. 'Alien' (1979) Whether you think it's a sci-fi film, horror movie, haunted house flick in space or a darn good argument for chest plates, Ridley Scott's cosmic trip gone very wrong is bursting with goodness. The terror is real, y'all, and the killer extraterrestrial goes perfectly with the galactic claustrophobia. 10. 'The Shining' (1980) If Jack Nicholson running around an empty and isolated hotel out of his mind, talking to dead barkeeps and carrying an ax isn't scary enough for you, an elevator flowing blood, the creepiest twins of all time and an old decrepit naked lady in a bathtub should do the trick. 11. 'An American Werewolf in London' (1981) American dudes backpacking in England get attacked by a werewolf, one of them becomes a beastly nuisance on the full moon, and things get bloody freaky in old London Town. All that plus undead buddies, fantastic special effects, an unreal transformation scene and it's pretty funny! 12. 'The Thing' (1982) John Carpenter's snowbound remake features a glorious Kurt Russell beard and a shapeshifting alien organism that assimilates other organisms and grows more frighteningly hideous over the course of the movie. Both are beautiful in their own ways. 13. 'The Fly' (1986) For real, everybody needs to see national treasure Jeff Goldblum getting turned into a monstrous insectoid, courtesy of body horror guru David Cronenberg, and Geena Davis absolutely freaking out after dreaming she birthed a giant maggot. Good times. 14. 'Little Shop of Horrors' (1986) Use the musical as a palate cleanser of sorts from some of these other fright fests. The Alan Menken songs will get your head bopping amid the retro narrative about a nerdy flower guy (Rich Moranis) who has a crush on a co-worker (Ellen Greene) and develops a co-dependent friendship with a man-eating plant. 15. 'Candyman' (1992) Nia DaCosta's sequel is pretty good, too, but it's worth it to go back to the original starring Tony Todd as the hook-handed title antagonist, a vengeful spirit of a slave's son murdered in post-Civil War America. The first movie remains relevant in its tackling of gentrification and the cyclical nature of violence. 16. 'Scream' (1996) Wes Craven's slasher movie reinvention holds up so well. Ghostface gave us the definitive horror villain of the '90s, the opening sequence with Drew Barrymore and a telephone remains an all-timer, plus its cleverness hasn't waned since horror tropes never die. 17. 'American Psycho' (2000) It really shouldn't be this enjoyable to watch Christian Bale hack a dude to death in Mary Harron's 1980s-set bloody satire about a cold, calculating and murderous New York investment banker with unusual proclivities. If nothing else, you'll never hear "Hip to Be Square" the same way ever again. 18. 'May' (2003) More and more folks have found this underrated Frankenstein-esque tale over the years, starring Angela Bettis as an awkward yet hypnotic vet's assistant who not only keeps a creepy doll around but also puts together her own special friend from spare body parts. 19. '28 Days Later' (2003) If you're going to watch two zombie movies, have "Night of the Living Dead" be the shot and this the chaser. A rage-inducing virus breaks out in England and leaves London eerily empty while speedy zombies are out for flesh in a story steeped in metaphor that speaks to the pandemic era. 20. 'Kill List' (2011) A British soldier (Neil Maskell) comes home, reconnects with his family and gets work as a hitman. Ben Wheatley's genre-mashing masterpiece sticks to being a crime thriller until it takes a turn toward the sinister and transforms into something way more terrifying. 21. 'It Follows' (2015) Teens and sex go with horror like hockey masks and summer camps. David Robert Mitchell ingeniously makes a sexually transmitted disease his villain, and Maika Monroe is the girl who's cursed after intercourse and is pursued by a dogged dark force until she can pass it on to someone. 22. 'The Witch' (2016) Wouldst thou like to live deliciously? Um, yes, please and thank you. The freaky period piece and tragic family drama features Anja Taylor-Joy as a troubled 17th-century teen on the cusp of adulthood who goes down a dark path and Black Phillip as the G.O.A.T. of hellish goats. 23. 'Get Out' (2017) If you can't empathize with Daniel Kaluuya's victimized protagonist and his shocked, tear-stained face as he's taken to the Sunken Place, you might just be a soulless demon. Jordan Peele's social horror insta-classic is an impressively crafted take on race that changed the scary movie game. 24. 'Hereditary' (2018) Hail Paimon? Hail Toni Collette! She tears it up in Ari Aster's supernaturally absorbing, demonic dissolution of a family whose grand matriarch was into some seriously weird stuff. "Hereditary" is full of shock and awe, with absolutely brutal deaths and an unshakable sense of doom. 25. 'Talk to Me' (2023) Australian brothers Danny and Michael Philippou announced themselves as essential young horror voices with this unforgettable indie flick about a teen (Sophie Wilde) and her friends who livestream being possessed by spirits via a strange embalmed hand. Might make you rethink that next TikTok.
New York Times
12-02-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
When Remaking a Masterpiece Is Worth the Risk
I've always thought that one of the most insoluble aesthetic problems going is remaking a movie masterpiece. I certainly understand the impulse to passionately re-engage such a work, but if the definition of a masterwork is something peerless at what it sought to accomplish, how do you remake it without simply reiterating it? There's a reason no one has tried second versions of Fellini's '8½' or Coppola's 'The Godfather' or Polanski's 'Chinatown.' In the case of Fellini's achievement, is someone going to produce a more harrowing portrait of the self-deluding toxicity of male narcissism? In the case of Coppola's, of the corrosive effects of power? Or in the case of Polanski's, of the Hey-nothing-personal malevolence of late-model capitalism? (Water itself in that movie turns out to be the commodity that's manipulated for profit.) When it comes to those who have waded into that kind of deep water, some have tried the Let's-really-shake-things-up solution. There's the lamentable 1962 remake of 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari,' for instance, which not only eliminated the central figure of Cesare the somnambulist but also featured a Caligari who instead of practicing diabolic hypnotism spent his time showing the heroine offensive pictures. Other filmmakers have chosen the even more baffling route of changing almost nothing, such as Gus Van Sant's nearly shot-for-shot 1998 remake of 'Psycho.' The number of disappointed moviegoers you risk in remaking a masterpiece from 1922 is smaller, for obvious reasons, but even so, the director Robert Eggers has made clear in any number of interviews his understanding that his new 'Nosferatu' is re-engaging one of the greatest of the silent movies. (In 2016, when he was first attempting to remake the film, he told an interviewer that it felt 'ugly and blasphemous and egomaniacal and disgusting' to take up that project so early into his career.) F. W. Murnau's 'Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror' is itself a remake — an unauthorized adaptation of 'Dracula,' Bram Stoker's compulsively readable fever dream of a novel — and Murnau and the screenwriter Henrik Galeen retained much of what was arresting about the original while slipping in their own major changes: They're responsible, for example, for the now-set-in-stone tradition that sunlight can destroy the vampire, a notion nowhere in Stoker's book. I likely saw 'Nosferatu' at too impressionable an age. I was 6, PBS was showing such things and my babysitter was simply glad I wasn't burning down the house. But I would have been flattened by it whenever I saw it. It was like having felt a draft from a grave. (Its effects were so long-lasting that 30-something years later I published a novel inspired by the film and its production.) The whole thing wasn't so much petrifying as insidiously unsettling, and all of that started with the figure of Nosferatu himself. Max Schreck's performance is, 102 years later, still the benchmark for sinister and dignified repulsiveness. Schreck's vampire has the stillness of a figure in a bad dream or a spider on its web, and the world he inhabits is at times equally disconcerting. After our hero Hutter's first frightening night in Nosferatu's castle, he notices in the mirror that something has bitten his neck, and he smiles. But the most destabilizing figure might well be Hutter's wife, Ellen, our heroine, who's again and again shown to be telepathically on the monster's wavelength, even when he's thousands of miles away, so that polarities like good and evil or desire and repulsion seem to just evaporate while we watch. That last aspect alone would seem to land this story in Robert Eggers's wheelhouse. Part of the subversive energy of movies like 'The Witch,' 'The Lighthouse' and 'The Northman' derives from what feels like modern takes on historical characters in thrall to dark passions so that the distantly historical is both granted its strangeness and animated by a scrutinizing modern sensibility. At its best, his version both evokes and reconceives Murnau's most brilliant visual ideas. Murnau's masterful use of the opacities of dark archways from which the vampire can emerge and into which he can dissolve is both echoed and made new. Murnau's famously arresting use of shadows to visualize the vampire's defiling reach is reimagined when those shadows in this new version extend themselves in a 360-degree pan that evokes their vertiginous inescapability. And the shadow of the vampire's hand now extends across the entire city, repurposing the most memorable image from Murnau's 'Faust.' But this new 'Nosferatu' is even more clearly Ellen's story. If in Murnau's original, the awfulness is coming for everyone and Ellen is its temporary focus, in Eggers's it's coming for Ellen and everyone else is collateral damage. Both movies render the vampire as a grotesque form of desire that's both irresistibly powerful and catastrophically dangerous. And in both, the woman can only overcome that desire by indulging it, and doing so will insure her destruction and save everyone else. If you're a female filmgoer, at this point you're likely muttering, 'What else is new?' Eggers's movies have always featured emotional intensities that can seem overdone in their in-your-face aggressiveness, and a lot of what's dramatized in terms of the movie's unspeakable erotic bond falls into that category. Ellen's taut and trembling lust for the vampire is staged and restaged, and she has any number of fits in which she writhes in the mud or in bed and seems as possessed as Regan in 'The Exorcist' — she is even at one point tied to her bed like poor Regan — and the comprehensive explicitness of her final consummation with the vampire is mitigated only by the occasional mercy of the night's shadows. The effect is to rub our faces in the self-destructive horror of the heroine's impulses and to shift that baleful sense of the erotic's dark power from a disturbing subtext to a more sensationalized foreground. The end result is a version that may achieve the most that a remake of a masterwork can: It generates respect for the appreciation and resourcefulness behind the attempt and reminds us of the rewards of revisiting the original. In what we might call our current remake culture, Marvel can keep cranking out new versions of Spider-Man's origin story, but the agenda there is to exploit an already existing audience and story arc. Masterpiece remakes offer something very different, speaking to us with surprising urgency and cogency across time. During the promotional run for the film, Eggers raised the question of why he sought to reimagine the classic. 'Obviously, yes, I'm obsessed with 'Nosferatu,' passionate about it, dorky about it, but why do it again?' Eggers said to the CBC. 'If the female protagonist is the central protagonist, I have the opportunity for the story to be, potentially, more emotionally and psychologically complex, instead of an adventure story about a real estate agent.' Here we are in 2025 again confronting, with increasingly dire stakes, the self-deluding toxicity of male narcissism, the corrosive effects of power and the malevolence of late-model capitalism. Eggers's version of the vampire, then, speaking to his moment, reminds us with a malignant satisfaction that he is an appetite and nothing more. And Ellen, speaking to hers, registers that understanding and then refuses to turn away from it. Masterpieces do what they can to educate us, and another reason we return to them — and to other good remakes — is that we keep demonstrating our need for more than one lesson. They exhilarate us about all of the ways in which we can transcend our own limitations, and they call us to account for all the ways in which we continue to refuse to do so. Without those possibilities our imaginations provide, we're locked into the tyranny of repeated mistakes. Remakes, in other words, may represent our attempt to put our compulsion to reiterate to more aspirational use.
