(from left) The Shudder Originals Speak No Evil; The Mortuary Collection; Scare Me; and Who Invited Them.Image: Todd Gilchrist/ Shudder; Shudder; Shudder; Shudder
There’s no better home for horror than Shudder. From classics by masters like Carpenter, Craven, and Argento, to international frights from around the world, to documentaries like Horror Noire and Queer For Fear, and finally, new horror from filmmakers like Joko Anwar, Chloe Okuno, Travis Stevens, and Neil Marshall picked up as exclusives, there’s no better place to go for a good scare. And that’s before getting to Shudder’s own contributions to the genre in the form of Shudder Originals, films developed and produced by the service with the insight of actual human beings rather than algorithms (imagine that!). In the age of streaming where many of us are frequently subscribing to anywhere from five or more services, Shudder remains my go-to. It serves as a testament to the versatility of horror—the notion that there really is something for everyone.
In the spirit of that versatility, and the season, here are eight of the best Shudder Originals, perfect for Halloween or any time of the year when the mood for horror catches you.
The Ranger
When a group of teens flee into the woods after a confrontation with the cops, they find that not even nature is a safe haven from the oppressive threat of authority in . Chelsea (Chloe Levine) is forced to fight for her freedom when a park ranger (Jeremy Holm) from her past sets his sights on her and her friends. Jenn Wexler’s punk rock slasher is the film that got me hooked on Shudder, possessing the kind of go-for-broke energy and low-budget ingenuity that serves as a reminder that great horror is happening in more than just the studio system. Its “fuck the police” themes and exploration of America’s generational divide and fight for space as a means of relevance is a precursor to this current era of slasher revivals. It’s a bloody good time with plenty to say underneath its bloodletting.
Scare Me
During a power outage in the Catskills, two writers on retreat convene to share their scary stories. A simple set-up evolves into something more complex and profound as tackles talent, jealousy, insecurity, and misogyny, all intricately woven into two writers’ abilities to scare each other as their fears become increasingly pronounced. And what’s a writer’s biggest fear? Being inadequate at telling stories because you have nothing to say. Funny, chilling, sad, and honest, Scare Me wields a deft blade as it cuts to the core of why we tell stories. Director Josh Ruben, who also stars, relies on the power of minimalism to create effective chills, with shadows and clever sound design making up for what the film lacks in special effects. Strong performances by Ruben, Aya Cash, Chris Redd, and Rebecca Drysdale all ground the film and give it sparks of humor. Stripped down to its most essential pieces, Scare Me is an all-too-human portrait of letting the fears we have in the dark consume us.
If a bloody grin could be captured on celluloid, it’d be . Horror-comedy is hard, which makes Duncan Birmingham’s feature debut all the more impressive. A housewarming party threatens to tear couple Adam (Ryan Hansen) and Margo (Melissa Tang) apart when a pair of mysterious, friendly, and flirty neighbors, Tom (Timothy Granaderos) and Sasha (Perry Mattfeld), show up uninvited and won’t leave. As Adam tries to impress their guests, interactions push the boundary between awkward discomfort and hilarity. There are moments in this that are laugh-out-loud funny, followed by sharp turns that make it impossible to guess where the film will go next. It’s Flannery O’Connor by way of L.A. Nightcaps, coke bumps, slap-fights, and the ever-lingering sexual tension tear down façades and reveal truths that can’t easily be walked away from.
Sissy
When Cecelia (Aisha Dee), a popular Instagram influencer, is invited to her former best friend Emma’s (Hannah Barlow) bachelorette party after reconnecting for the first time in ten years, old tensions and insecurities rise to the surface in when her childhood bully, Alex (Emily De Margherti) is also in attendance. She’s quickly reminded that the past is never truly over and people never forget the worst transgressions of your youth. Cecelia’s behavior becomes increasingly erratic as she’s constantly reminded that no amount of followers and shared videos can wash away the scars. A fascinating take on the slasher genre and the final girl, filmmakers Hannah Barlow, who also stars, and Kane Senes create a glitter bomb of splashy colors and bloodshed with an ending that you won’t soon forget.
A Danish couple, Bjorn (Morten Burian) and Louise (Sidsel Siem Koch), and their young daughter, Agnes (Liva Forsberg) are invited to stay with a Dutch couple, Patrick (Fedja van Huet) and Karin (Karina Smulders), and their young, mute son, Abel (Marius Damslev) for a weekend after the two families hit it off on vacation. The guests, ever eager to appease the hosts they barely know, choose to look past a number of escalating eccentricities, which become annoyances, and then become abuses, ultimately leading to a gut-wrenching conclusion and sobering performance from Burian that will have you holding your breath. Director Christian Tafdruf creates an escalating sense of tension and bleak exploration of the depths of human cruelty reminiscent of Michael Haneke’s Funny Games and Bryan Bertino’s The Strangers. Yet, those films placed their characters in unavoidable situations; builds on entirely avoidable scenarios. The frequent horror movie commentary, “get out” becomes a doldrum here, but as frustrating as it is to see the family ensnare themselves in this web, the reasoning behind their choices to stay is all too familiar and human.
Host
A séance spirals out of control and the ramifications are seen across a group of friends’ computer screens. The film that captured the anxiety and claustrophobia of the pandemic, and was told entirely across Zoom screens, was for many audiences the film that put Shudder on the map as the go-to place for new horror. Rob Savage’s film became the service’s biggest hit at the time, a marriage of all the right elements at the right time. It’s not simply what’s on screen that makes such a treat. It’s the behind-the-scenes production that involved actors setting up their own practical effects after a virtual crash course that speaks to the kind of ingenuity and accessibility of filmmaking that can happen even in the midst of a pandemic. At a brisk 50 minutes, Host wastes no time giving the viewer the jolts they crave, and its naturalistic performances create a scenario that seems all too plausible, even for skeptics of the supernatural.
Mad God
A magnum opus 30 years in the making, Phil Tippett’s isn’t just a movie but an experience, one in which passive viewership becomes an impossibility. Brought to life through painstakingly detailed stop-motion, Mad God follows a figure known only as the Assassin into a hellish underworld populated by demons and monsters that push the very limits of imagination. As the film progresses, the narrative slowly gives way to something more experimental, a phantasmagoric trip that provides a horrific commentary on the cyclical nature of humanity’s struggle against insurmountable evil. Brutal, bloody, and dripping with excrement, Mad God tests the limits of your gag reflex and imagination. It’s smoke-sesh horror unlike anything you’ve ever seen.