It’s October, and that means it’s the time of year when everyone loves horror movies, even now when horror’s modern mainstream popularity is at a high. So, here’s a modest proposal: Stop releasing horror movies after October. This is the month where we should stop and take stock of what the genre has to say in a given year, and on a given slate, and then decide which films rise above the rest and demand attention. (Admittedly, holiday horror has its place, being as Christmas is arguably more terrifying than Halloween.)
READ MORE: 2020 Fall Film Preview: 40 Most Anticipated Films To Watch
2020, in spite of the obstacles facing the industry (and the world, at large), has blessed viewers with a varied crop of movies worth checking out: A gory throwback or two here, a few arthouse pictures there, a surprising microbudget indie flick there, and an absolutely terrifying immigrant story for good measure. Each of our picks for the 15 best horror films of 2020 to date is markedly different from the last, meaning that there’s something for everybody during the spookiest time of the year (and let’s face it, given only November and December are unknown, and few horror films are released during these windows, this list will likely serve as our overall Best Horror Of 2020 list by the time all is said and done. Update: Yep, that’s indeed the case).
READ MORE: The Best Films Of 2020… So Far
“After Midnight”
If you’ve never spent a few days and a couple of nights in America’s rural South, one note you must keep in mind: You can’t take more than ten steps outside without something snorting, croaking, or farting in your general direction, which makes late-night strolls exercises in paranoia. The South is so alive with twilight noise that the mind conjures all manner of critters shuffling about in the brush, which might explain why each evening at the stroke of 12, Hank (Jeremy Gardner) falls asleep by the front door of his home cradling his shotgun; something big keeps trying to get in, and his Southern imagination has him convinced it’s a monster. Or maybe he’s just heartbroken after his girlfriend Abby (Brea Grant) up and left him, and monster hunting is his distraction of choice. Or maybe it’s both. “After Midnight” sees Gardner in his usual low-fi mode, but with a slightly higher budget for MastersFX to play within the creature design department as he explores listless white male ennui. The film doesn’t put horror to the side. It just leaves fear deep in the dark.
“Color Out of Space”
Even if he’s not totally lucid about it, Richard Stanley gives adventurous midnight-movie crowds enough to mull over while they’re having their hair blown back by an onslaught of light and sound in “Color Out of Space.” Indie music world stalwart Colin Stetson contributes a score of sinister synths that reinforces the hallucinatory atmosphere, perfectly replicating the feeling of noise coming from the inside of your skull. He’s just one more weapon in the stylistic arsenal that Stanley commands, an armory’s worth of tricks and formal manipulations — the eerie pink gives a blue and red penumbra to everything its light touches, for one example, making some shots look like primitive 3-D seen without the retro glasses. Stanley makes movies as only he can, and if that means defying comprehension every now and then, that’s just the price of admission to his insular hellworld. –Charles Bramesco
[Read The Playlist’s Full Review]
“Extra Ordinary”
Filmmakers Enda Loughman and Mike Ahern wisely establish upfront that ghosts exist in the world of “Extra Ordinary,” and all the characters accept this as fact. It eliminates the standard crutch of a ghost film— the initial skepticism shattered by an event that inspires awe, terror, or both—and allows the audience to relish every gag that humorously plays with the conventions of the sub-genre (most specifically, a hilarious recurring gag involving ectoplasm). This also gives a talented comedic cast permission to let loose with a madcap sense of energy that is intoxicating. Maeve Higgins and Barry Ward have easy chemistry and trade whip-smart exchanges in such quick succession that it’s impressive the banter never runs out of gas. The same goes for a deliciously over-the-top performance from Will Forte, who channels the same unpredictable, surrealist aura from his “Fortin’ With Will” sketch, among others, from “Tim and Eric Awesome Show, Great Job!” He chews the scenery in every delightful moment. – Ryan Oliver
[Read The Playlist’s Full Review]
“His House”
“His House” will inevitably find comparisons to “Get Out” due to its portrayal of racism in a horror setting, but its complexities are different, and obviously satire free. What makes Remi Weekes’ debut so special is the second-half change in antagonists. “His House” starts as an immigration horror and then haunted house tale, and the brings its terror back down to Earth for an outright distressing climax that speaks to the terrible human cost of the refugee crisis. After pulse-pounding, petrifying the first half, the second part of “His House” pulls on your heartstrings with a profoundly humanizing and auspicious story about the frightening nature of escape. –Rafael Motomayor
[Read The Playlist’s Full Review]
“La Llorona”
“Better than Michael Chaves’ ‘The Curse of La Llorona’” is a low bar to set for any film about the Latin American legend of the Weeping Woman. There’s literally nowhere to go but up from the Chaves picture. Happily, Jayro Bustamante’s “La Llorona” isn’t merely better than the shoehorned “Conjuring” tie-in: It’s outstanding on its own merits as a semi-historical account using genre to demonstrate horror’s cultural value. Horror tends to reflect contemporary social fears. In “La Llorona,” those fears are accompanied by genuine real-world atrocities, as a genocidal Guatemalan general (Julio Diaz) escapes the law’s clutches only to find himself haunted in his own home by the sound of a woman’s sobs. His mansion’s walls can hold angry protestor’s outside at bay, but when cries for vengeance come from within those walls, he’s left with nowhere to go and with too many crimes to pay for. “La Llorona” documents actual barbarity and blends them with restrained horror tropes, combining both into a lilting, quietly furious demand for justice.
