Allow me to set the scene: You’re innocuously sitting on your friend’s couch, enjoying the beautiful month of October with visions of autumn leaves and jack-o’-lanterns dancing in your head. Abruptly, your fallcore bliss is rudely shattered when your one friend (it’s always the same one, isn’t it?) barges in with a suggestion that would give even Freddy Kreuger night terrors:
“We should watch a horror movie!”
Suddenly, your sad girl autumn quickly teeters on the verge of becoming a traumatized girl lifetime. As your friends obliviously debate the merits and shortcomings of such family-friendly classics as “The Nun 2” and “The Evil Dead,” you’re faced with two options: either make a break for it now or make like a werewolf when faced with a silver bullet and deflect, deflect, deflect.
Sure, the healthier option might be to have an open conversation with your friends about your comfort zone so that they’ll better respect your boundaries in the future, but given the choice between talking about your feelings and potentially having to sit through “The Exorcist,” enabling a few unhealthy coping strategies every now and again might not be the end of the world.
That’s where I come in: a former horror movie scaredy-cat turned equally-scared-cat-who-got-over-himself-a-bit. I’ve been in your shoes before, and I know the pain of trying to find a fun spooky season flick that won’t torment your mind in the wee hours of the morning. If you don’t believe my credentials, you can ask my parents whether they regretted showing me “Ghostbusters” as a kid. Spoiler: they did — for months and months.
With that in mind, here are my picks for 10 spooky season watches that are for the faint of heart — so that the most terrifying thing you’ll face this October is the prospect of your pumpkin spice latte getting mildly lukewarm.
The Masque of the Red Death (1964)
OK, so this admittedly might not have been my best opener. “The Masque of the Red Death” stands among hundreds of similar low-budget horror flicks from the late ‘50s and early ‘60s that have arguably aged out of cultural memory. It’s certainly trying to get under your skin a bit, but a film this dated poses little nightmare-fuel value. What makes this movie stand out from its contemporaries, much less any modern-day horror, then?
I’ve got three names for you: Corman, Price and Poe.
Roger Corman: a man famous — or infamous — for directing dozens of underlooked low-budget thrillers and producing hundreds more throughout his jam-packed career. Corman’s name is synonymous with the very concept of a “B-movie.” Don’t let the term’s connotation dissuade you, either: Corman’s craft was consistently laudable, even at his worst (and “Masque of the Red Death” is arguably his best).
Vincent Price: there’s screen presence, and then there’s the chill you get whenever Vincent Price opens his mouth. Few actors in the history of horror have had such an enduringly iconic effect on the genre, much less the status of the films they starred in. His role in this film as a villainous prince showcases the very best of his schmoozy creep factor, and he may or may not get to chew up the scenery as a certain scarlet specter, too.
Edgar Allan Poe: If you haven’t heard of this one, I can’t help you. Poe’s work lent itself to multiple Corman adaptations, but “The Masque of the Red Death” is undoubtedly superior in how it adapts the creeping, unnerving dread of the author’s work. Hankering for a creepy Gothic castle story with just enough hints of existential eeriness? This is the one for you.
Slotherhouse (2023)
According to Phobiapedia, preguicaphobia is the name for a fear of sloths. So, yes, fine; if you have preguicaphobia, you get a free pass on this one. Otherwise? Sorry, you have no excuse not to watch “Slotherhouse.”
Every Halloween watch party needs some low-budget, poorly-acted schlock, and a slasher movie starring an adorably evil sloth is just your ticket to getting some ironic entertainment at the expense of several dozen doomed-by-the-narrative sorority girls.
“Ooh” and “ahh” as Alpha the sloth stuns in a variety of precious outfits, such as a bucket hat and sunglasses, a pink bikini and, last but not least, the blood of his victims. The cute factor to be gleaned from the whimsical sloth puppet may not make up for how tragically dull the rest of the film is, but hey: I can’t be blamed if the Venn diagram for “silly murder animals” and “quality art” doesn’t always align.
Mr. Vampire (1985)
Though many have tried, the concept of the horror comedy has never been executed quite so well as in the case of the Hong Kong hopping-vampire flick “Mr. Vampire.”
I sense skepticism, and I get it: no one wants to be the guy at the party who recommends a 40-year-old foreign film about hopping vampires when a simple “The Nightmare Before Christmas” would have sufficed. At the same time, though, I would be hard-pressed to find a film better suited to the requirements of this list. “Mr. Vampire” may not be taking itself seriously, but the sincerity with which it brings to life its bevy of spirits, corpses and eponymous bounding bogeymen is second to none.
Granted, it may take a bit before everything clicks. After getting two-thirds of the way through, though — and having witnessed a metric ton of horror hijinx, slapstick comedy and kung fu, all blended into an indiscriminately engaging script — you’ll begin to worry less about how to classify the film you’re watching and more about how to extend its grin-inducing charm for as long as possible.
You’ll have to take my word for it: This one’s worth convincing your friends to watch — even if you have to “Drac” them kicking and screaming.
It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown (1966)
I’ll be the first to admit that not every film on this list will appeal to everyone. I’d bet money that none of them will prove actually scary, but it’s also worth understanding that everyone is looking for something different from their Halloween movies.
“It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown,” though? I’ll tell you now: You will enjoy this movie. Your friends will enjoy this movie. The people peering into your living room from the sidewalk will enjoy this movie. In fact, it would probably take me longer to think up a more universally enjoyable Halloween film than it would to watch this 25-minute classic, at which point I’d probably choose to admit defeat and watch it a second time.
Decorated beautifully with charmingly simple animation and that soundtrack by the Vince Guaraldi Trio, “Great Pumpkin” is the quintessential distillation of a youthful Halloween, in all its colorful charms and I-got-a-rock disappointments. It’s infuriatingly elegant and timelessly funny, and it will never cease to capture the hearts and imaginations of anyone who watches it.
Besides, if you think I can gush about this movie, stick around two months from now when I return to lecture you about why “A Charlie Brown Christmas” is a pillar of American cinema on par with “Citizen Kane.”
Twilight (2008)
Never let it be said that my list is full of old, boring movies that nobody wants to watch; new, boring movies that everybody has already seen are well within my recommending repertoire, as well.
One part “Dracula” and one part “Fifty Shades of Grey,” the film based on Stephenie Meyer’s infamous book series is one of the few films that I can recommend as a certified hit for both Halloween and Valentine’s Day. Whether you’re here for the edgy, bizarrely-edited vampire drama or the swooning, questionably-acted romance, “Twilight” treats you to something even more delicious than virgin blood: cheese, and lots of it.
It’s easy to laugh along at some of the movie’s oh-so-2000s quirks, though for all my snark, “Twilight” is more competently constructed than you’d expect. Its vision may be a skosh nonsensical, but it’s still hitting the highs of easily-digestible Hollywood melodrama the whole way through, and I’ll take a few awkward line readings from Robert Pattinson over the average trite romance from Netflix any day.
I would further recommend that you dig into the whole five-movie saga for one heck of an all-nighter, but seeing as I’d hate to be responsible for any mental or emotional damage inflicted by such an experience, the first film should be enough to quench your thirst.
The Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
Surely you knew this was coming. I mean, it wouldn’t be spooky season without its prima donnas: Dracula, Frankenstein, the Mummy, the Wolfman — maybe the Creature from the Black Lagoon, too, if I’m feeling charitable.
It may be hard to remember nearly a century later, but these iconic monsters once starred in movies ahead of their prolific move to the cereal industry; if you can believe it, some of these movies were actually pretty good, too!
Jokes aside, I admit that despite their classic status and undeniable black-and-white aesthetic, many of the blanket-termed “Universal horror” films aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. For scaredy-cats, this means a gold mine of creepy vibes without fear. At the same time, paint drying isn’t exactly nightmare fuel either, but you don’t see me recommending that you center your evening around a splotch of maroon.
“The Bride of Frankenstein” is a thankful alternative to the old roller and bucket, though; James Whale improves upon almost every aspect of his already-excellent 1931 original film to deliver what I consider the defining work of this loosely-defined genre. “Bride” simply has more than its predecessor: more mad science, more Gothicism and more of Boris Karloff’s god-given performance as the Monster.
Clocking in at a scant 75 minutes, it makes for an easy-peasy watch to squeeze in before bed, not to mention making for a neat little double feature with the original, which is even shorter at 70 minutes.
Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island (1998)
In a perfect world, I would fill this list entirely with episodes from the classic “Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!” TV show. The inability to include the show that I would argue defines the very notion of family-friendly horror stings a bit, to be sure, but fortunately the feature-length “Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island” still exists, so I guess I’ll settle for a world halfway to perfection.
Everything that makes the series work is present in “Zombie Island,” from charming animation, nicely updated for the times, to its classic brand of slapstick. The film is quick to up the ante for one of Scooby’s earliest movie outings, though, giving the characters a larger, more sinister threat to unmask and a more robust interpretation of the original show.
This is “Scooby-Doo,” plain and simple. It may be a bit more intense than the stuff from the ‘60s, but hey: I’ll take a little bit of vanilla body horror over the live-action hybrid “Scooby” movies from the 2000s any day of the week.
The VelociPastor (2017)
No good Halloween movie list is complete without some good religious horror — which I guess would make this list incomplete.
“The VelociPastor” isn’t really a spooky movie, nor is it good enough for me to earnestly recommend it here. It is, on the other hand, really funny. Not “ha ha” funny; not “so bad it’s good” funny; it’s moreso “random movie that you find on a free movie server, laugh uproariously at and continue to quote for weeks” funny, and everybody knows that’s the best kind.
For reference, its premise hinges upon a priest transforming into a dinosaur to fight an army of ninjas; if you thought that such a story couldn’t possibly be told with a budget of just $35,000, then you’d be correct. The movie makes quite an effort though, and in doing so it creates a new D-movie classic; it’s not non-stop hilarious, but it acts more like one continuous 75-minute joke that you’re the butt of.
And plus: if you watch it before Halloween, you can successfully cosplay as everyone’s favorite cretaceous clergyman for the low, low price of an inflatable dinosaur suit. You’re on your own in terms of convincing your friends to go as dismembered ninjas, though.
And Then There Were None (1945)
While I love (most) of these movies like my children, none of them scratch that same all-timer itch as that of “And Then There Were None.”
An adaptation of the novel “Ten Little Indians” by renowned mystery writer Agatha Christie, the film is your classic murder-mystery: 10 people, one creepy house on a desolate island and one killer.
“And Then There Were None” is the all-kills, no-frills pinnacle of the genre in my book — or rather, in Christie’s book. The characterization of each guest is pulpy and stereotypical, but the way that each personality clashes together for a gradual increase in confusion and suspense is just first-rate; I end up forgetting who the killer is by the end every time I watch it because the climax’s buildup of tension is so overwhelming.
I won’t claim that it’ll have the same mind-blowing effect on every aspiring clueseeker who watches, but it’s a criminally unseen case of classic mystery done well. I’d recommend last year’s “A Haunting in Venice” for another spooky Christie story, but seeing as I’m still working out my unresolved trauma from that one, it’s probably best to stick to the classics for now.
Coraline (2009)
“Pick something normal,” they said. “Do ‘Hocus Pocus,’ they said. “People love ‘Hocus Pocus.’”
As someone who’s been recently radicalized against “Hocus Pocus,” picking a more widely-known non-scary movie was a challenge. Fortunately, even my ridiculous opinions and I aren’t immune to understanding the hype for “Coraline.”
It’s a delightful film on every front: delightfully funny, delightfully spooky and delightfully animated, to say the least. Even aside from its famous horror-lite elements, “Coraline”’s themes about acceptance and personal identity are wrapped up and presented in a cozy little package that sits in your stomach like warm apple cider on a cool fall day. No film captures the feeling of changing seasons — and change within oneself — quite like this one.
And no, it’s not that scary. I’ve coddled you long enough: If you’re old enough to pay taxes, you’re old enough to watch “Coraline” without hiding under a blanket. I believe in you; though if you’re not up to it, that’s okay too — I hear “Slotherhouse” gets better on second viewing, anyway.
Kevin Lynch can be reached at lync1832@stthomas.edu.