Welcome to Dread Central Unearthed 2024, where we’re sharing our favorite films, moments, kills, scares, and more from this year in horror. First up is our editor-in-chief Mary Beth McAndrews’ personal top ten horror films of 2024!
2024 was, at least from my perspective, an incredible year for horror. Between the astounding box office success of films like Terrifier 3, Immaculate, and Longlegs and shockingly poignant franchise reboots headed by talented female directors, it felt like change was truly in the air. Yes, horror has always been That Girl, drawing audiences to theaters with promises of bloodbaths and disturbing imagery. But 2024 felt different. Not because of box office numbers, but because of the stories we saw succeed. Films like Jane Schoenbrun’s I Saw The TV Glow and Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance, which would once have been declared too weird for the mainstream, broke into the wider cultural conversation and sparked something in a younger generation of cinephiles, while also opening eyes to what cinema can accomplish outside of the polished Hollywood system.
Narrowing down my ten favorites from 2024 was almost impossible. So many films captured my heart and lingered in my brain. This was a daring year for horror, one where queer and trans artists continued to push boundaries with their storytelling, refusing to sanitize their art for a cis, straight audience, particularly in a year where queer and trans communities were continuously under attack for simply existing. Meanwhile, female directors screamed in the face of patriarchy in a year when Roe vs. Wade was overturned and Trump once again was elected president. As a queer woman, these films not only spoke to me, but gave me hope for the future.
Not since the years after September 11, 2001, has horror felt so feral and full of rage, and that excites me. Because horror, if anything, is a mirror to society, a horrific facsimile of cultural fears and anxieties that reflects our reactions to things like the alarming rise of fascism, economic collapse, and horrific wars overseas.
With all that in mind, I present my personal top ten best horror movies from 2024. Some are expected, and some may come as a surprise, but all together they weave a tapestry of my own feelings of queer rage as well as my desire for escapism to a place where violence can sometimes be the answer.
10. Lisa Frankenstein (dir. Zelda Williams)
Starting my list off strong with a controversial pick! Lisa Frankenstein charmed me to the point that I think about it at least once a week. The horror comedy, starring Kathryn Newton and Cole Sprouse, was a kooky anthem for the weird girl who loves to hang out in cemeteries and read morose Gothic literature for fun. Is it perfect? No, but what movie is? Director Zelda Williams and writer Diablo Cody created a hyper-femme universe full of bright colors, lacy outfits, and silk cravats that speaks to viewers yearning to find their place in the world.
With a release earlier in the year, Lisa Frankenstein, quickly followed by films like Immaculate and The First Omen, set a tone for 2024 horror, a tone that was angry and fed up with how genre films about women by women were treated in the larger cultural zeitgeist. To me, Lisa Frankenstein is a crucial piece of genre cinema perfect for horror fans young and old, a way to unite horror fans of all ages and usher in a new generation of femme freaks who want to see messy women make mistakes and fall in love with reanimated corpses. No film made me smile bigger this year and I implore more people to seek out cinema like this, films that are messy and unapologetic in their declarations about love, independence, and bodily autonomy.
9. Femme (dir. Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping)
Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping’s queer revenge thriller Femme shook me to my very core when I first watched it. I’d heard rumblings about its power and its approach to queer revenge, and as a self-declared revenge film obsessive, I couldn’t wait to see it. What I saw was a chilling account of a queer man trying to heal from violent trauma and a closeted man who turns to toxic masculinity to hide his true desire. It’s an impressive combination of heartbreaking, disturbing, and erotic as drag performer Jules (Nathan Stewart-Jarrett) tricks the man (George Mackay) who attacked him in an act of homophobic violence into falling in love. Jules’ goal? To out his attacker on a porn site. Messy queers don’t get enough time in the cinematic spotlight, with queer characters so often placed in neat boxes labeled “comedic relief” or “tragic villain”.
But here, Freeman and Ping refute such tropes to create a complex tale about identity and trying to reclaim your own bodily autonomy. All Jules wants is to find a way to stop hurting, and to him, that only comes through hurting another.
Nothing about this film is easy or cut-and-dry. But Freeman and Ping’s script, paired with expertly build tension and stunning performances, crafts the kind of queer genre stories we need more of. Femme is about the walls we build and the masks we wear to protect ourselves and what happens when those walls and masks are torn away, leaving us to face the world, naked and cold and scared.
8. The People’s Joker (dir. Vera Drew)
2024 was another incredible year for queer genre storytelling and Vera Drew’s feature film debut The People’s Joker is a shining example of what happens when queer and trans people are allowed to tell the stories they want to tell without worrying about the straight viewer. Drew, who has previously edited for comedy shows such as Comedy Bang! Bang! and I Think You Should Leave, digs into her skills as an Emmy-nominated editor to tell a quasi-autobiographical tale about her own experience coming out and transitioning, but through the lens of the Joker if she was coming to terms with her gender identity while also trying to become a writer on a famous sketch comedy show. It’s also just an incredible piece of satire about superhero media, which is so often about reinforcing heteronormative gender roles.
The People’s Joker is a beautifully ridiculous film filled with heart and absurdist humor. Drew stars as Joker the Harlequin who navigates a toxic boyfriend, a fascist Batman, her newfound community, and the hells of the comedy scene. It’s a technical triumph with a genuine story where Drew shows us who she is and what she can do. I cannot wait to see what she creates next.
7. Frogman (dir. Anthony Cousins)
Found footage films about cryptids are incredibly hit or miss. For every film like Exists or Willow Creek are a dozen attempts to make another movie about Bigfoot or Mothman without really understanding what makes these creatures so scary. Luckily, Anthony Cousins eschews convention with his feature film debut Frogman, which is all about one man’s obsession with the actual cryptid the Loveland Frogman, said to roam the woods of Ohio, wielding a wand and hopping through the trees with reckless abandon.
Here, Cousins takes a similar approach to Bob Goldthwait’s Willow Creek as he focuses on his trio of childhood friends who set off to film a documentary about the Frogman. While his two friends Amy (Chelsey Grant) and Scotty (Benny Barrett) see this as just a fun project between friends, Dallas (Nathan Tymoshuk) sees this as an opportunity to prove that he did in fact see the creature as a child. The mounting tension between the group, paired with townsfolk who are increasingly suspicious, keeps this film from becoming too silly. The inherent idea of a frog-man hybrid is silly, but Cousins strikes a delicate balance to make the rare cryptid found footage film that captures the terror of discovering a seemingly fictional monster is actually very real and has much more sinister intentions.
6. MadS (dir. David Moreau)
David Moreau’s 2007 film Ils (a.k.a. Them) is a haunting home invasion tale that chilled me to the bone, so when I saw his latest outing MadS was debuting at this year’s Fantastic Fest, I knew I had to see it. And boy am I so glad I did. Moreau’s MadS is a stunning cinematic achievement as it tells the story of a zombie outbreak through the eyes of three drug-addled 20-somethings in ONE SINGLE TAKE (or at least it’s presented that way). Moreau smartly doesn’t keep one character at the film’s center, which lets MadS’ scope grow with each passing moment while never becoming too unruly or epic. It’s a deeply upsetting yet alluring look at how a global outbreak spreads like wildfire.
Most impressive is Laurie Pavy‘s performance as Anaïs, particularly when she’s transforming into something no longer human. Her face twists in agony and hunger simultaneously as her body jerks, twitches, and twists in the street. It’s almost tragic to watch this young woman with so many hopes slowly realize that she’s dying and that her future is now nothing but darkness.
5. The First Omen (dir. Arkasha Stevenson)
Like many others, I had reservations about Arkasha Stevenson’s The First Omen, not because of Stevenson, but because of this obsession with reviving old franchises as a way to generate revenue. I couldn’t be more pleased to be proven wrong as Stevenson, who co-wrote the film with her partner Tim Smith, crafts a rape-revenge tale of sorts that points a finger directly at the Catholic Church for their continued allowance of abuse. Nell Tiger-Free’s performance has drawn well-deserved comparisons to Isabelle Adjani’s feral showing in the iconic Possession. That comparison alone speaks to the tone Stevenson strikes here—it’s bubbling with anger, but the kind of anger with no place to go.
The portrayal of PTSD and the confusion that arises in the wake of sexual trauma feels authentic and never exploitative, always toeing that line but never crossing it. While a reboot of sorts, Stevenson’s voice is still loud and clear in one of the biggest surprises of the year.
4. Red Rooms (dir. Pascal Plante)
As a teenager who grew up surfing strange websites for weird movies and shocking videos, Pascal Plante’s chilling cyber-thriller Red Rooms struck a chord deep within my subconscious. The film follows Kelly-Anne (Juliette Gariépy) a young woman who is obsessed with a high-profile court case regarding the horrific murders of several teenage girls. Not only were these girls murdered, but their tortures and deaths were all live-streamed on the Dark Web, with viewers paying to watch a live snuff film. Plante’s understanding of digital culture and social isolation makes every part of Red Rooms feel almost too real. Kelly-Anne’s motivations are a secret for the majority of the film, but everything she does is precise and almost reptilian, thanks to a stunning performance by Gariépy.
Plante also refuses to show any explicit violence against the young female body, which is a surprising breath of fresh air particularly when it comes to narratives that draw from true crime. He strives to create something outside of the typical crime thriller box, and he achieves that in a beautifully harrowing way. It’s hard to talk about this film without spoiling it, but I promise it’s worth a watch.
3. Stopmotion (dir. Robert Morgan)
Robert Morgan’s film Stopmotion is a haunting portrayal of an artist on the edge of mental collapse, specifically a stop-motion animator (played by Aisling Franciosi) trying to prove she can make art without the influence of her famous mother. While the story of an artist losing their mind is by no means new, especially in the horror genre, Morgan’s approach to said story is so visceral that it feels unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Stopmotion feels like the cinematic equivalent of a waking nightmare. You can smell the rotting meat on the screen and feel the grit of dirt underneath her nails. It is a hellish portrayal of artistic insecurity and the fear that you’ll never make something worthwhile.
I saw this just a few months after I wrapped my first feature, so perhaps that colored my perception of Stopmotion. Regardless, Morgan melds his own brand of nightmarish stop-motion animation with live action, creating an uncanny piece of horror cinema that will linger in the corners of my brain for years to come.
2. Oddity (dir. Damian Mc Carthy)
I can’t remember the last time a horror film shook me the way Damian Mc Carthy’s latest film Oddity did when I first watched it as part of this year’s SXSW film festival. His previous film Caveat had a moment so scary it made me scream, so I knew I was in for a treat when I settled into bed with all the lights off and noise-cancelling headphones, ready to experience the film from the comfort of my own bedroom. Right off the bat, I jumped so hard I scared my husband and from there I was a ball of nerves, unsure of what would come next in medium Darcy’s (Carolyn Bracken) journey to discover who murdered her twin sister.
Filmed almost exclusively in a unique old house, Mc Carthy’s use of space and timing makes this modest house feel like a Gothic labyrinth haunted by a large figure made of wood. Oddity is a gorgeous melding of haunted house tropes with the detective story, creating a familiar yet unique take on a traditional ghost story. Mc Carthy is already two for two in my eyes, and his work is just getting scarier. I can’t wait to see what fresh hell he releases next and just how scared it’ll make me of the dark.
1. The Substance (dir. Coralie Fargeat)
Coralie Fargeat, my muse. Since the release of her 2018 rape-revenge film aptly titled Revenge, I’ve been beating the drum about her singular artistic vision that takes the shape of a sledgehammer, ready to shatter viewer expectations and preconceived notions about genre and the female body. With her sophomore feature The Substance, Fargeat still wields that sledgehammer but with even more deadly precision in her satirical examination of the beauty industry and how women view themselves in a world controlled by the lecherous male gaze.
Her camera once again shoves shards of glass into the metaphorical eyes of the male gaze, obviously mocking the fetishization of young bodies while also creating a gaze that mimics how women view their own bodies when locked in the bathroom, alone with their thoughts. Demi Moore’s performance as Elisabeth Sparkle embodies that ethos through her largely silent performance, letting her body and face tell an agonizing tale of exploitation, sacrifice, and rage.
Yes, the third act is a fantastical blood bath of epic proportions that perfectly punctuates The Substance and provides a fitting conclusion to Fargeat’s cinematic vision. But the preceding acts are just as shocking as Fargeat takes female insecurity, particularly around aging, and makes it into a body horror nightmare that would make Brian Yuzna proud. Plus, the fact that a film like this can receive nominations at award shows like the Golden Globes is inspiring to a new filmmaker like myself. Yes, award shows aren’t indicative of a film’s quality, but in terms of bringing a film like this into the cultural conversation, it helps it breech containment and spread like electric green wildfire.
Categorized:Editorials
