Follow along for 31 suggestions to keep you shrieking
31 Days to Scare 2024
I love a horror film. Be it schlocky, classic, groan-inducing, scream-producing, high tech, low budget, or plain crazy, there isn’t much in the genre I won’t see.
Every day in October, you can expect a horror film review, and I’m hoping you’ll get introduced to a few you haven’t heard of.
October 1 ~ The Empty Man
On the trail of a missing girl, an ex-cop comes across a secretive group attempting to summon a terrifying supernatural entity.
Call it a victim of bad timing or poor marketing, but when The Empty Man hit theaters in October 2020, it barely made a ripple in the vast, empty space left by the COVID-19 pandemic. Audiences weren’t flocking to cinemas at the time, and they certainly weren’t clamoring for a non-franchise horror film with no major stars and little promotion. What a shame.
Though reports suggest that what was released by 20th Century Fox (in its final days as a standalone studio) wasn’t the full vision of writer/director David Prior, the film has since gained a loyal and growing cult following—and it’s easy to see why. It’s a slow-burning, genuinely unsettling horror story that takes its time with a hefty 137-minute runtime. But the payoff is worth it. The film carefully builds its characters and immerses you in a complex, chilling world of cults, evil entities, and urban legends come to life.
Yes, it does stumble over a few loose ends, and I’ll admit it took me two viewings to fully untangle the plot. But what’s impressive is its ambition and depth, especially in a genre often dominated by jump-scare factory films. The Empty Man rises above the usual fare by delivering something more thought-provoking and terrifying in a way that lingers long after the credits roll.
Had the film been marketed better—or at all—I believe James Badge Dale, the film’s lead, would have seen a well-deserved career boost. His portrayal of a man caught between heroism and his own haunted past is compelling and layered.
Thankfully, though the film was overlooked at release, it’s now receiving the recognition it deserves, frequently landing on “Best Horror Films You Haven’t Seen” lists. It’s a sign that this underrated gem is finally getting the attention it’s long owed.
October 2 ~ Caveat
A lone drifter suffering from partial memory loss accepts a job to look after a psychologically troubled woman in an abandoned house on an isolated island.
It may only be October 2, but I’m confident that one film will find its place on my “Best of 2024” list: writer/director Damian McCarthy’s Oddity. This Irish horror gem is the perfect stormy night watch, steeped in atmosphere and brimming with spine-chilling scares that will make even the bravest viewers squirm.
Eagle-eyed fans have already spotted a clever link between Oddity and McCarthy’s earlier work, Caveat (2020). While there’s no official confirmation of a connection, it’s worth revisiting Caveat during your 31 Days to Scare marathon—it offers a similarly nerve-wracking experience. Despite a bare-bones budget, McCarthy squeezes every last drop of tension from his minimalist setup, crafting a tale as disturbing as it is ingenious.
In Oddity, an amnesiac is hired to keep watch over a reclusive woman on a remote island. It seems like easy money—stay out of her way, collect the check. But there’s a catch: he must wear a harness that limits his access to certain parts of the house. He can’t get too close to her, and worse, he can’t escape either. The stakes ratchet up quickly when she begins to roam the house with a crossbow, ready to fire at the slightest provocation. If you think that’s unsettling, brace yourself—McCarthy’s ever-twisting screenplay has more tricks up its sleeve.
At a lean 88 minutes, the film packs in enough tension and surprises to power several city blocks. And one jaw-dropping scare? It still gives me goosebumps just thinking about it. Johnny French and Leila Sykes take on their demanding roles with absolute commitment, handling the psychological and physical intensity like seasoned pros. McCarthy, for his part, keeps both the characters and the audience teetering on the edge throughout.
This is a masterclass in horror from start to finish, but don’t be surprised if you find yourself sleeping with the lights on afterward.
October 3 ~ Ouija: Origin of Evil
In 1967 Los Angeles, a widowed mother and her daughters add a new stunt to bolster their seance scam business by inviting an evil presence into their home, not realizing how dangerous it is.
With Mike Flanagan’s The Life of Chuck winning the Audience Award at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival, now seems like the perfect time to revisit one of his earlier works for #31DaystoScare. The original Ouija (2014) was a forgettable attempt to bring the infamous ghost board to life on the big screen, falling flat with clichés and failing to generate much in the way of genuine scares. But when Flanagan took the reins for the sequel—set as a standalone prequel in the late ’60s—he delivered all the frights the first film missed, along with a few new ones of his own.
In Ouija: Origin of Evil, a widow living with her two daughters runs a phony medium business out of their Los Angeles home. What starts as a harmless scam takes a dark turn when a séance goes horribly wrong, summoning a malevolent entity intent on tearing the family apart. Unlike the original, Flanagan’s prequel brims with tension, trading cheap jump scares and gore for a well-crafted, slow-building sense of dread.
The cast—featuring dependable actors who would go on to become regulars in Flanagan’s future projects—delivers solid performances, elevating the film well beyond its PG-13 rating. It’s a chilling reminder that you don’t need buckets of blood to send shivers down your spine—just a skilled director and a smartly crafted story.
Every time I recommend Ouija: Origin of Evil, it gets glowing feedback. It’s not only a perfect entry point into the Flanagan universe, but a testament to how a talented filmmaker can breathe life into a dead franchise. With The Life of Chuck (which I’ve seen and can confirm is fantastic) slated for release by NEON, Flanagan’s already rising profile is set to soar even higher—bringing Ouija: Origin of Evil back into the spotlight where it belongs.
October 4 ~ Graveyard Shift (1990)
In a very old textile mill with a serious rat infestation, deadly accidents start happening, but the corrupt foreman continues to put his workers in danger, until they discover a horrifying secret deep in the basement.
With a new (and long-delayed) adaptation of Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot recently premiering on Max, it got me thinking about other King properties ripe for a fresh look. My mind instantly went to Graveyard Shift (1990). Originally published as a short story in 1970 and later included in King’s 1978 Night Shift collection, the film adaptation is far from one of King’s favorites. It tries hard to present itself as an A-list horror flick when, in reality, it’s more of a sporadically shocking, rubbery creature feature.
Set in an old, decaying textile mill, the film follows a group of workers tasked with cleaning out a closed-off basement, only to discover they’re not alone. Something sinister lurks in the shadows, and it’s not happy about being disturbed. Clocking in at just 86 minutes, there’s little room for character development beyond basic outlines of small-town New England blue-collar workers. But that’s fine—this is the kind of B-movie that thrives when it leans into its campiness, and falters when it takes itself too seriously.
Two performances perfectly capture these extremes: Brad Dourif as a wild-eyed rat catcher and Stephen Macht as the sleazy mill foreman. Dourif fully embraces the film’s schlocky charm, while Macht delivers a smarmy, overly serious performance, complete with a hilariously over-the-top New England accent. His line “We’re going to hell together!” somehow morphs into “We-yah gah-in tah hell ta-geh-tha!”—a masterclass in over-commitment that makes him stand out as the one actor not quite in on the joke.
While Graveyard Shift has its moments of B-movie fun, it’s a King adaptation that could definitely benefit from a redo. The bones of a subterranean thriller are there—we just need someone to put tastier meat on them. Here’s hoping this one gets a second chance down the line.
October 5 ~ The Seventh Sign
Abby Quinn discovers that she and her unborn child play a terrifying part in the chain of events destined to end the world.
I’m thrilled to see Demi Moore back in the mainstream spotlight with the much-anticipated body horror film The Substance. Moore has long been one of my favorite actresses, consistently choosing challenging roles that showcase complicated, multi-dimensional women. This willingness to take risks dates all the way back to her first major credit: the schlocky 3D creature feature Parasite (1982). It was Moore’s first foray into horror, but far from her last. In fact, her 1988 film The Seventh Sign may have generated even more controversy than The Substance for its bold interpretation of religious themes and sacred imagery.
To be honest, The Seventh Sign isn’t a great film. Moore, however, is terrific as a pregnant woman convinced that her new tenant might be heralding the second coming of Jesus—just as the world seems to be unraveling around her. The film is full of late ’80s religious horror staples: bleeding statues, cryptic modern prophecies decoded from ancient texts, and, of course, lots of dramatic wind. Strip away the religious context, and you’re left with a screenplay that veers into problematic territory, particularly in its treatment of developmental disabilities. And the plot gets wilder and more disjointed as it unfolds.
But through it all, Moore’s earnest performance anchors the chaos, pulling focus back just when the film starts to spiral off into one of its many bizarre tangents. Her ability to smooth over the film’s rough patches keeps you actively engaged throughout and watching The Seventh Sign’s climax, it’s no surprise she ascended to the A-list just two years later with Ghost. That film kicked off the next phase of her career, ultimately leading to what might be her peak work (at least so far) in The Substance.
October 6 ~ The Orphanage
A woman brings her family back to her childhood home, which used to be an orphanage for handicapped children. Before long, her son starts to communicate with an invisible new friend.
October 7 ~ Vamp
Two fraternity pledges travel to a sleazy bar in search of a stripper for their college friends, unaware it is occupied by vampires.
It’s always been tricky to pinpoint precisely how to classify 1986’s Vamp. The aggressively monstrous VHS cover used to stare back at me from the horror section of my local video store, even though it sported a hot pink “horror-comedy” sticker for clarification. More Fright Night than The Hunger, this film follows three college boys who, while searching for a stripper for their frat party, make a very wrong choice of nightclub to enter. Their hunt leads them to a seedy downtown club with a nightlife that’s not just deadly—it’s downright bloodthirsty.
Joined by a cocktail waitress with a heart of gold, they are soon pursued into the city’s underbelly by tooth-gnashing vampires and gangs of the undead. One by one, their numbers dwindle as they desperately wait for the safety of daylight. Director Richard Wenk’s career may have had an inauspicious start in the ’80s, but he’s since turned things around as a writer of big-budget action franchises. You can spot shades of his later work in Vamp, which veers into weird territory but maintains a playful energy throughout.
And then there’s Grace Jones. You don’t cast Jones and expect subtlety, and she devours her role as the freaky-deeky stripper/vampire. Her beastly transformation during a private show for an unfortunate underclassman gives the film some of its most memorably unpredictable moments. Vamp may have aged in that distinctly mid-’80s way, but its blend of horror and comedy and Jones’s unforgettable performance lock it in a time capsule of wild genre experimentation. The film preserves its singular, chaotic energy by embracing its time and teetering between tones.
October 8 ~ No One Lives
A gang of ruthless highway killers kidnap a wealthy couple traveling cross country only to shockingly discover that things are not what they seem.
Every solid 31 Days to Scare list needs a bloody, vicious selection, and I’ve finally decided it’s time to add 2012’s No One Lives. Produced by WWE Studios during their brief foray into legitimate fictional filmmaking and directed by respected Japanese auteur Ryûhei Kitamura, it’s surprising that this backwoods horror gem hasn’t gained more traction over time. It barely made a blip at the box office after premiering at the Toronto International Film Festival. Still, it deserves more attention for its slick execution, nasty twist, and eye-popping surprises.
Luke Evans stars as one-half of a couple who stop at a roadside gas station only to get tangled in a nightmare of kidnapping, murder, and bone-cold revenge. Saying more would spoil the fun, but screenwriter David Cohen’s narrative is packed with dark turns, and Kitamura brings it to life with brutal precision. The violence here feels almost refreshingly un-American despite the heartland setting. It’s vicious, unapologetic, and designed to shock in ways that Hollywood horror often shies away from.
Already building his career at the time, Evans is fantastic in this role, seamlessly shifting between victim and survivalist as he creatively—and brutally—dispatches those who cross him. No One Lives is an often-overlooked gem that horror fans can get a lot of mileage out of, especially if you’re in the mood for a movie that delivers gruesome blows to the head, stomach, and shins. If you haven’t seen it, this might be the perfect time to try!
October 9 ~ Child's Play
A dying serial killer transfers his consciousness into a popular kids doll using voodoo. A struggling single mother gifts her six-year-old son the much sought-after doll for his birthday, and the doll slowly begins to show its true colors.
With the announcement that the third season of Chucky, SyFy’s original series from creator Don Mancini, will be its last, it feels like the perfect time to revisit the movie that started it all. Mancini, who penned the original 1988 Child’s Play, has kept this franchise alive through six sequels (thankfully steering clear of that ill-fated 2019 remake). While it’s doubtful this marks the end of our favorite “friend to the end,” it’s a great opportunity to look back at just how skillfully the first film was crafted.
I’d nearly forgotten how tightly Child’s Play is put together. The story wastes no time: the dark soul of serial killer Charles Lee Ray is transferred into a seemingly innocent Good Guy Doll, which quickly finds its way into the hands of a widowed mother and her lonely young son. From there, Chucky springs into action, eliminating a babysitter (played with flair by Dinah Manoff) before setting his sights on using the boy as his new vessel, all while cutting down anyone who stands in his path.
Brad Dourif makes a brief physical appearance in the opening scene, but it’s his voice work that steals the show. The animatronics were cutting-edge for the time and remain surprisingly effective, giving the doll a lifelike presence that amplifies the tension.
I sometimes wonder what it would have been like if Mancini had been able to stretch the ambiguity—whether the boy or the doll was the true villain—for longer. But in the fast-paced world of late ’80s horror, the film’s need to move quickly works to its advantage.
As for the sequels, they’ve always been a mixed bag for me. The first follow-up, Child’s Play 2 (1990), leaned more into campy fun, setting the tone for the over-the-top installments that followed. But no matter where the franchise went, the original still stands as a tightly wound thriller that holds its own after all these years.
October 10 ~ Turbulence
After a shootout on a flight transporting prisoners, a flight attendant must outwit a smooth-talking serial killer and land the plane herself.
Flying back from a recent vacation, I was thinking about the next title for 31 Days to Scare when I noticed my partner watching Goodfellas, featuring Ray Liotta in his most memorable role. With Liotta on my mind mid-flight, I couldn’t help but think of Turbulence—a 1997 thriller that, ironically, could never be shown on a plane.
It’s not just because Liotta plays a convicted lonely-hearts serial killer, being transported on a nearly empty Christmas Eve cross-country flight, who breaks free and wreaks havoc. No, the real reason is that once Lauren Holly’s plucky flight attendant is forced to take the controls and fly the plane through a violent storm, anyone already nervous about flying would be gripping their armrests even tighter.
Turbulence works like a charm for those in the mood for a throwback thriller that thrives on its stars’ energetic performances. Liotta’s wild-eyed portrayal could power the entire film on its own, but Holly holds her own, delivering first-class intensity as the resourceful stewardess who refuses to play the victim. The screenplay gives her plenty of bold moves, but it never reduces her to a damsel in distress. She’s always fighting back, determined to save herself and her passengers from Liotta’s escalating madness.
The supporting cast adds to the fun: Catherine Hicks makes the most of her small but impactful role as Holly’s co-worker, and the late Ben Cross is memorable as a pilot who guides Holly through a crash course (pun intended) on flying the plane.
Recently re-released on 4K by Kino, Turbulence may have been written off by critics and audiences when it first came out (and shamefully nominated by the Razzies for a few awards), but I’d bet giving it another look will make you wish you’d boarded this thrill ride sooner.
October 11 ~ Jennifer's Body
A newly-possessed high-school cheerleader turns into a succubus who specializes in killing her male classmates. Can her best friend put an end to the horror?
Fresh off her Oscar win for the irreverent Juno (2007), Diablo Cody had Hollywood at her feet, with her next screenplay eagerly sought after by studios. With Jennifer’s Body in 2009, she snagged the hottest “It” girl, Megan Fox, alongside rising star Amanda Seyfried, and paired them with director Karyn Kusama, still remembered for her debut hit Girlfight (2000). On paper, it seemed destined to devour the fall box office. But a misguided marketing campaign positioned the film as something it wasn’t—think American Pie with blood and less like the creature-feature riff on Heathers with Cody’s sharp, trendsetting dialogue that it wound up being.
Unfairly maligned at the time (and I’ll admit, I was part of that misguided crowd), the film’s meticulous approach was missed by many. The Razzies even took aim at Fox’s performance, labeling it one of the worst of the year, despite what we now recognize as a fierce, unflinching portrayal. Luckily, Jennifer’s Body seemed to know it was ahead of its time. After an underwhelming box office run, it bided its time, allowing audiences to rediscover it in later years. What they found was an intelligent dark comedy that balances gruesome fun with stinging wit and a razor-clawed world view.
Fox stuns as Jennifer, a cheerleader wronged in the worst way, seeking revenge as a seductive, man-eating demon. Seyfried shines in contrast as her best friend, horrified by what her once close companion has become. Kusama expertly draws out both actresses’ strengths, allowing them to show depth beyond their expected roles. Cody’s themes of female empowerment, toxic friendship, and women literally consuming their pain are woven seamlessly into the narrative, never feeling too on the nose.
And yes, it delivers on the scares too. Jennifer’s Body is a clever mix of horror and humor that, like its title character, was underestimated in its time. Today, it stands as a cult favorite, offering a bloody good time with a sharp bite of social commentary.
October 12 ~ The Relic
A homicide detective and an anthropologist try to destroy a South American lizard-like god, who's on a people eating rampage in a Chicago museum.
Published in 1995, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child’s genetic horror-thriller Relic felt cinematic right off the page, so it was no surprise when it quickly leapt to the big screen. But how fast is too fast in the adaptation process? As it turns out, The Relic suffered from a rushed pre-production, leading to delays when time had to be spent fine-tuning its creature effects. This behind-the-scenes trouble stirred up bad buzz before anyone had even seen a frame of the film.
In truth, The Relic is far from a great movie. It could benefit from a four- or five-episode streaming remake to better capture the mystery and tension the book excelled at. The film’s four screenwriters and director Peter Hyams never quite nail the right tone or successfully build up the suspense surrounding what’s terrorizing the natural history museum in Chicago. While the eventual reveal—a mix of practical and CGI effects from Stan Winston—is impressive, it feels derivative of his earlier design work on Predator. The final product suffers from clear signs of studio meddling, resulting in disjointed scenes, plot inconsistencies (the creature seems to teleport across the museum), unresolved character arcs, and a general lack of cohesion.
The unevenness extends to the acting as well. Tom Sizemore seems aware of the kind of film he’s in, but not of the role he’s playing, while Penelope Ann Miller does the opposite, taking her role seriously but missing the movie’s campier undertones. Only Audra Lindley, as a no-nonsense medical examiner, finds the right balance between seriousness and fun, though her screen time—like that of Linda Hunt’s museum director—is too limited to make a significant impact.
Another major issue is the film’s lighting—director Hyams also served as cinematographer, and about 90% of the movie is so dark it’s hard to see what’s happening. Despite this, revisiting The Relic recently, I found myself appreciating its sillier aspects. The creature effects still hold up surprisingly well, and while the film is flawed in many ways, it retains a nostalgic charm as a throwback to creature features of the past.
October 13 ~ Don't Be Afraid of the Dark (2011)
A young girl sent to live with her father and his new girlfriend believes that she has released creatures from a sealed ash pit in the basement of her new home.
By the time Mexican director Guillermo del Toro became involved with Don’t Be Afraid of the Dark, he had already built a reputation for his visually rich storytelling in both his native country and Hollywood. This remake of the 1973 television movie, which terrified him (and many others) as a child, was a passion project for del Toro. He initially planned to write and direct but opted to produce instead when he was attached to direct The Hobbit trilogy. While we can only imagine how this remake might have looked under his direction, it’s certainly not a film to be afraid of.
The story centers on young Sally, sent to Rhode Island to live with her father, Alex, and his girlfriend, Kim, as they renovate a rundown mansion. Like all good creepy mansions, this one has a dark history—and a horde of tiny, sinister creatures living in the basement that love the dark and, creepily enough, have an obsession with teeth. Sally is the first to encounter them, but, being a child, no one believes her, even after a worker is attacked and strange events begin to escalate.
Del Toro’s influence is clear in how this remake is reframed through the eyes of a child, shifting it from the domestic thriller tone of the original to more of a familial horror experience. He’s known for exploring childhood fears, and that sensibility shines here. The characters, however, are pushed to extremes, which might have turned off some audiences during its initial release but feel more digestible now. Guy Pearce, as Sally’s father, is almost comically neglectful and oblivious to his daughter’s needs, while Katie Holmes steps up in the pseudo-stepmother role, reminding us she’s long overdue for a career resurgence.
I’ve been on the fence about Bailee Madison in the past, but she impressively carries the film, appearing in nearly every scene and holding her own against both her adult co-stars and the CG creatures. Horror fans will find plenty of unsettling moments, with some particularly gruesome scenes (fair warning to those sensitive about teeth). The finale packs a punch, though the epilogue leaves you scratching your head a bit.
October 14 ~ Snakes on a Plane
An FBI agent takes on a plane full of deadly venomous snakes, deliberately released to kill a witness being flown from Honolulu to Los Angeles to testify against a mob boss.
Snakes on a Plane. Sounds promising, right? Probably the most straightforward movie title ever, I remember heading into opening day in 2006 with high hopes for a fun ride—a mix of campy thrills and rip-roarin’ reptile action. I should have buckled up for a bumpy journey, though, as the film quickly veers off course, weighed down by an overlong runtime and distracted by plot points focused on the human characters rather than the slithering ones we came for.
That’s not to say director David R. Ellis, a former stunt coordinator (who sadly passed away in 2023), doesn’t deliver a few moments that strike or sequences streaked with venom. There are definitely flashes of the campy, over-the-top fun the premise promised. But the film is padded with so much unnecessary material that it’s hard not to feel more than a little shortchanged on the snakes. Samuel L. Jackson plays an FBI agent escorting a witness to a murder trial from Hawaii to LA, only to find their 747 swarming with snakes, deliberately unleashed by the crime kingpin they’re after.
Like the air disaster movies of the past, Snakes on a Plane introduces a number of side characters and storylines, but none are compelling (or competently acted) enough to make us care whether they get bitten or not. The array of poorly rendered CGI snakes doesn’t help matters either. Even Jackson, usually able to rise above hackneyed material, falls back on wild-eyed theatrics to get through some of the more ridiculous dialogue. At 105 minutes, the film is a solid 15-20 minutes too long, leaving enough snake-less downtime to make you squirm for all the wrong reasons.
One thing I couldn’t help but notice—probably because I have a fascination with plane interiors in films—is how absurdly oversized the plane is. The two-level plane and cockpit appear about quadruple the size of a normal aircraft, which makes everything look a bit cheaper and less believable. Sets and costumes, in general, have that rushed, low-budget feel, as if the entire production was thrown together on short notice.
Ultimately, while there are moments of fun to be had, Snakes on a Plane never quite reaches the heights of the gleefully campy creature feature we were promised.
October 15 ~ Warlock
In 17th century New England, witch hunter Giles Redferne captures an evil warlock, but the conjurer eludes death with supernatural help. Flung into the future, the warlock winds up in the 1980s and plans to bring about the end of the world. Redferne follows the enchanter into the modern era and continues his mission, but runs into trouble in such unfamiliar surroundings. With the help of a young woman, can Redferne finally defeat the warlock?
I wish I could say I had a shockingly misspent youth, but in reality, I spent my time hanging around two local video stores—Video Vision and Mr. Movies—so much that Mr. Movies ended up giving me my first job. These stores typically only had one copy of smaller films, making certain titles tough to find until their popularity died down. But there was one movie that was always in demand and rented out so frequently that my budget-conscious boss at Mr. Movies did the unthinkable—he bought a second copy. That film was Warlock, a wildly entertaining horror-fantasy from 1989.
Despite being nearly lost when its studio, New World Pictures, was sold to fledgling company Lionsgate, Warlock found new life on VHS, becoming a rental sensation and even spawning two sequels. While the follow-ups dialed up the extremity, the original holds up as an example of genre filmmaking that takes itself seriously while still having fun. Directed by Steve Miner—also responsible for Friday the 13th Parts 2 and 3 as well as Halloween: H20—it stars the late Julian Sands as a 17th-century warlock transported to 1989 Los Angeles, with Richard E. Grant’s fur-clad witch hunter in hot pursuit.
Lori Singer, reportedly not enjoying the heavy makeup demands of her role (at one point, she’s made to look 40, then 60), makes the most of it, even if she’s stuck with a bad wig and questionable costumes. The age makeup is hilariously off, making her look closer to 70 and 90 rather than the intended 40 and 60, which might give viewers one of the film’s biggest laughs. Still, Singer plays her part as the plucky Los Angelino caught in this witchy chaos with conviction.
The effects, while dated by today’s standards, are part of the movie’s charm, and the seriousness with which Sands and Grant approach their roles elevates the stakes, making the film work far better than it has any right to. There’s a playful sense of humor throughout, both in its self-awareness and its communion with the audience, which keeps it entertaining even during its more fantastical moments.
With a richly textured score from Jerry Goldsmith, Warlock may not be pure horror, but it’s got enough dark, macabre twists to keep horror fans hooked. It’s well-crafted, cleverly plotted, and full of genre thrills that still hold up, even if the makeup doesn’t.
October 16 ~ Student Bodies
This zany send-up of teen slasher flicks features a maniacal psycho known as the Breather, who stalks –and murders– promiscuous students at a suburban high school. The fanatical killer’s unusual weapons include paper clips, blackboard erasers and eggplants.
It’s only fair to say upfront that Student Bodies (1981), a spoof of the surge of slasher films in the late ’70s and early ‘80s, is a textbook example of “Your Mileage May Vary” (YMMV) when it comes to your enjoyment. I’ve gone back and forth over the years on whether or not to recommend it because, while parts of it are undeniably funny, there are also moments that feel outdated, especially in today’s more culturally aware and considerate climate. However, it’s no more offensive or insensitive than the Scary Movie franchise (which, frankly, should have known better). Given that Student Bodies is nearly 50 years old, there’s something to be said for its attempt to comment on a genre trend that was still in its infancy at the time.
Written and co-directed by Mickey Rose, Student Bodies takes aim at the slasher genre’s repetitive use of simplistic plot devices, well before Scream would turn this kind of self-aware parody into blockbuster material. The plot revolves around a voyeuristic killer known as “The Breather,” who is stalking sexually active teens at a typical high school. The list of suspects is both long and obvious, as the staff at Lamab High School are all portrayed as creeps, perverts, and general oddballs. The film’s central suspect, however, is the virginal Toby (played by Kristen Riter in what turned out to be her only film role), who repeatedly finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time.
As Toby works to clear her name—at one point hilariously dressing as Olivia Newton-John’s Sandy from Grease (a fun cross-promotion with Paramount, the studio behind both films)—more bodies pile up. The kills, while bloodless and with fully clothed victims, are tallied by an on-screen body count, a visual gag that pokes fun at the slasher genre’s obsession with escalating death tolls. Although the movie clocks in at a breezy 86 minutes, it begins to lose steam about halfway through but manages to regain its momentum as it heads toward a surprisingly entertaining finale that invokes memories of a few other classic films.
While it doesn’t have the staying power of more iconic spoofs like The Kentucky Fried Movie (1977) or Schlock (1973), Student Bodies still delivers laughs for those who appreciate similar humor. If you’re a fan of early ’80s horror and enjoy the kind of parody that doesn’t take itself too seriously, Student Bodies is definitely worth a watch. It may not be perfect, but for what it sets out to do—skewering the burgeoning slasher genre with absurdity and wit—it holds its own as a product of its time.
October 17 ~ Spellbinder
A young lawyer, after falling in love with a beautiful woman, finds that she has an extremely mysterious past.
I feel like I should subtitle the 2024 edition of 31 Days to Scare as My Video Store Memories because so many of the films I’ve chosen are tied to the days when I would spend hours browsing the shelves, longing to watch movies I wasn’t quite old enough for. My parents were, bless them, surprisingly lenient about letting me watch a good number of gore-fests before their ratings said I should. But they drew the line at anything that featured more naked flesh than torn limbs. One of those forbidden VHS covers I remember being vetoed was Spellbinder, a 1988 thriller set in Los Angeles starring Tim Daly and Kelly Preston.
It took me several decades to finally see Spellbinder, and now that I have, I’m almost glad I waited. Back then, I wouldn’t have appreciated its slower tempo and more methodical approach to suspense. Directed by Janet Greek and written by Tracy Tormé (son of the legendary Mel Tormé), Spellbinder follows Daly’s character, an L.A. lawyer, who rescues Preston’s from an abusive boyfriend in a parking lot. This act of heroism leads to a whirlwind romance, and before long, they’re playing house for a weekend. But their bliss is short-lived—soon, a stern-faced woman (the late, great Audra Lindley) appears, warning Daly that “we want her back,” referring to Preston, who seems to be much more than just a damsel in distress.
From there, Daly goes into full protector mode, determined to uncover why Preston is so valuable, which quickly puts both of them in danger. The film’s Los Angeles setting is used effectively, and Greek demonstrates a real talent for crafting a slow-burn thriller—a style that wasn’t always favored by distributors like MGM. In fact, Greek reveals in the commentary that it wasn’t until the film’s premiere that she realized the studio had cut the first 20 minutes, eliminating key character introductions in favor of diving straight into the action.
Even with the studio’s edits, what remains is still engaging, right up to a finale that delivers a handful of major surprises without feeling like the rug is being pulled out from under us. That’s the mark of a well-constructed mystery and a credit to filmmakers who took their work seriously. The performances, too, are solid. Daly, while perhaps a bit overly made-up, makes for an amiable—if somewhat lust-blinded—leading man. And the late Preston (it’s hard to believe she passed away at just 57!) is both stunning and convincingly dangerous in her role.
While Spellbinder may not be spellbinding in terms of outright terror, it will definitely keep your attention from start to finish.
October 18 ~ The Fly (1986)
A brilliant but eccentric scientist begins to transform into a giant man/fly hybrid after one of his experiments goes horribly wrong.
Director David Cronenberg has long been content to lurk on the fringes of mainstream filmmaking, exploring the brooding frights of body horror that gave audiences the rabid shivers. His early work in Canada gained him attention, earning him a foothold in Hollywood—though he never quite seemed at home there. That’s not to say his first studio film, The Dead Zone (1983), wasn’t impactful, but it took him three years to return with his next project: an ambitious remake of the 1958 sci-fi classic The Fly. Produced by none other than Mel Brooks (yes, that Mel Brooks), The Fly was seen as a risky endeavor before its release. Now, it’s universally recognized as not only superior to the original but also one of the best horror films of the 1980s—and arguably, of all time.
Starring then-couple Jeff Goldblum and Geena Davis, Cronenberg, along with co-screenwriter Charles Edward Pogue, reimagines the story to suit the tech-obsessed, self-improvement-driven culture of the ‘80s. Goldblum plays a quirky scientist who lures Davis’s curious reporter character to his lab to witness his groundbreaking invention: a teleportation device that can deconstruct molecules in one location and reassemble them in another. Naturally, as his experiments progress to living tissue, Goldblum decides to test the machine on himself—unaware that a stray fly has entered the teleportation pod.
The results are catastrophic. At first, he revels in his newfound strength and enhanced senses, but soon the horrifying reality of his transformation sets in. Cronenberg’s signature fascination with the grotesque intricacies of the human body takes center stage here, brought to life by Oscar-winning make-up effects. Goldblum delivers a harrowing performance, conveying the mental and physical breakdown with emotional depth and visceral intensity, making it a standout moment in his career.
Cronenberg’s chilly commentary on the fragility of the body and the dangers of pushing science too far remains as powerful now as it was in 1986. While some of the The Fly‘s technology might feel dated when viewed today, its core themes—death, disease, and the human desire to harness potential, even for a fleeting, horrific moment—remain just as relevant and resonant.
October 19 ~ Malice (1993)
In a small New England college town, a surgeon, a college dean and his wife become inextricably drawn together into a web of intrigue
As the days grow shorter here in Minnesota, there’s something about these late autumn nights that makes me crave those mid-budget thrillers that were all the rage in the mid to late ’90s. Sure, it’s great to dive into horror classics and the latest nightmare fuel, but give me a classy whodunit or a tense legal suspense film, and my trick-or-treat bag feels full. By chance, I spotted Malice (1993) on my shelf, and it reminded me just how wickedly fun this crime thriller/mystery is.
Co-written by Aaron Sorkin and directed by Harold Becker (of Sea of Love fame, another fantastic erotic thriller), Malice is a labyrinth of twists and red herrings so numerous that Alec Baldwin, Nicole Kidman, and Bill Pullman could have had a fish fry halfway through filming. Despite all the plot turns, it’s such a polished, entertaining ride that you won’t mind being led down multiple paths.
The plot centers on Pullman’s character, a college dean whose school is grappling with a potential serial killer on the loose, and his wife (Kidman), who is eager to start a family. Enter Baldwin as Pullman’s college buddy, a hotshot surgeon who takes up residence in their newly renovated home just as Kidman’s character falls seriously ill and requires emergency surgery. As fate would have it, Baldwin’s character is her doctor, and from there, Sorkin’s knack for turning the narrative upside down takes hold. To reveal more would be, well, malicious.
On top of the three stellar leads, Becker assembles a powerhouse supporting cast, including Bebe Neuwirth, George C. Scott, Anne Bancroft, and a young Gwyneth Paltrow, each playing a key part in this intricate, deadly game of chess. One of the film’s greatest strengths is its rewatchability. You can revisit Malice every few years and focus on a different character, uncovering new layers and dynamics each time.
While all the actors shine, Kidman is the standout, offering an early glimpse of the incredible career that would soon follow. Malice is a sleek, black-hearted thriller that’s as fun to watch today as it was when it first came out, proving that some films only get better with age.
October 20 ~ The Cat and the Canary (1939)
When an eccentric family meets in their uncle's remote, decaying mansion on the tenth anniversary of his death for the reading of his will, murder and madness follow.
Where are my manners? We’ve made it to Day 20 of 31 Days to Scare, and I’ve yet to take us far back in cinema history to find something truly scream-worthy. Today, we’re correcting that by heading to 1939 for the horror-comedy The Cat and the Canary. This film is a remake of the 1927 silent version, which was itself adapted from a 1922 stage play. While I’ve never seen the original or caught it live, I decided to give this version a try after hearing so much about the chemistry between leads Paulette Goddard and Bob Hope—and I wasn’t disappointed.
In the film, Goddard plays the new heiress to a Louisiana bayou fortune, which will be hers if she can survive the next 30 days without going insane or dying—whichever comes first. She’s trapped for the night in the rundown mansion she inherited, alongside a suspicious collection of relatives who stand to inherit if she loses her mind. To make matters worse, there’s a crazed killer on the loose, one who sometimes crawls around on all fours like a cat. Enter Bob Hope, playing a wisecracking actor who steps in to help Goddard’s character, though he may end up the killer’s next victim if he can’t solve the mystery in time.
I was pleasantly surprised by how effectively creepy this Paramount picture is, especially given its comedic elements. It kept me guessing until the end, and you can clearly see its influence on modern films and performances. The pairing of Hope and Goddard lives up to its reputation—they’re fantastic together—but Gale Sondergaard nearly outshines them as the chilling housekeeper and Nydia Westman’s delightfully ditzy Cicily is a hoot.
Like an Agatha Christie mystery, The Cat and the Canary is one of those films that’s easy to revisit every few years and is ripe for remakes. In fact, I think we’re long overdue for a new version of this story, and I’d love to see one of today’s rising directors take a crack at it.
October 21 ~ The Wicker Man
A puritan policeman travels to a secluded island off Scotland to search for a girl who has gone missing. Once there, he discovers sinister forces at work among the island's secretive residents, including strange sexual rituals, a harvest festival and possible human sacrifice.
I’m always amazed at how many glaring blind spots I have when it comes to pivotal films in cinema history. For example, I still haven’t seen a single Bergman film (I know, yikes!). Watching those Criterion closet videos makes me less envious of the celebrities’ all-access shopping spree and more jealous of the obscure gems they’ve seen and loved. I’ve watched a lot, but achieving true cinephile status definitely requires some serious work!
I bring this up because I should have seen Robin Hardy’s 1973 folk horror classic The Wicker Man by now. (***EDIT – Well, the internet doesn’t lie, I HAVE seen it before…for 2012’s inaugural 31 Days to Scare…sheesh!) While I did catch the Neil LaBute/Nicolas Cage remake in theaters back in 2006, I never got around to watching the much-referenced original, which has since become a cult favorite. Recently, I finally watched The Final Cut, newly restored in 4K, which beautifully showcases Harry Waxman’s stunning cinematography of Scotland’s coast. The eerie landscape serves as the perfect backdrop for the unsettling events that unfold on the isolated island where a policeman, played by Edward Woodward, arrives to investigate the disappearance of a young girl.
The more island residents he meets, the more the mystery surrounding the girl’s disappearance—and her possible murder—shifts and twists into something far more disturbing. Woodward’s character, a devout, chaste man, is horrified by the island’s pagan, free-spirited inhabitants, who seem to be playing a strange game of temptation and terror. Leading them is the enigmatic Lord Summerisle, portrayed by Christopher Lee in one of his finest non-vampire roles. The islanders are preparing for a deeply unsettling May Day festival to celebrate the harvest and make an offering to the forces of nature that sustain them. As the sergeant digs deeper into the mystery, he quickly realizes that no one can be trusted—truth is as elusive as the missing girl.
Written by Anthony Shaffer, who had just come off a stellar year with his adaptation of Sleuth and the screenplay for Hitchcock’s Frenzy, The Wicker Man builds to one of the most famous—and shocking—climaxes in film history. If you’ve managed to avoid spoilers all this time, I’m both happy and envious for you, because the ending will hit you with a stunning intensity that lingers longer than you might expect.
Until that moment, the film keeps you on edge with its unsettling atmosphere, punctuated by bizarre songs that almost turn the movie into a musical, adding to its eerie energy. And while the finale is undoubtedly the highlight, Woodward’s performance throughout is unforgettable, provoking a profound sadness that make shake you to your core.
October 22 ~ Hollow Man
Cocky researcher Sebastian Caine is working on a project to make living creatures invisible. Determined to achieve the ultimate breakthrough, Caine pushes his team to move to the next phase — using himself as the subject. The test is a success, but when the process can’t be reversed and Caine seems doomed to future without flesh, he starts to turn increasingly dangerous.
October 23 ~ Swallow
Hunter, a newly pregnant housewife, finds herself increasingly compelled to consume dangerous objects. As her husband and his family tighten their control over her life, she must confront the dark secret behind her new obsession.
October 24 ~ Clue
Six guests are anonymously invited to a strange mansion for dinner, but after their host is killed, they must cooperate with the staff to identify the murderer as the bodies pile up.
Go on, you saw this post was about Clue, and now you’re probably thinking about your favorite scene, line, or character from the movie, completely distracted for the next ten minutes. I’ll wait…
Ok, do I have you back? I don’t blame you for needing that time. Jonathan Lynn’s 1985 adaptation of the classic Parker Brothers board game has become a beloved part of our cultural fabric. As we inch closer to the final days of #31DaystoScare, it’s time to pull out the big guns—and this release from Paramount Pictures is a squirt pistol full of fun. Sure, the only thing scary about Clue is how big of a flop it was upon its initial release. But now, you can pop it in any time of the year, and it feels just right.
There’s something particularly special about watching it in October, though. The film’s cold, dark setting perfectly matches the spooky season, making it an ideal pick for a Halloween viewing. For 90-ish minutes, you’re locked in a mansion with a cast of colorful comedic characters, each taking on the roles from the game as they try to identify the murderer before the night is over.
It’s hard to say exactly why it took so long for Clue to be recognized for the genius it is. Perhaps it was the imbalance caused when an ailing Carrie Fisher had to be replaced by Lesley Ann Warren, or maybe it was the film’s release during the family-friendly Christmas season. But, in reality, audiences just weren’t ready for the concept of a board game brought to life, especially one with multiple endings released in theaters that confused moviegoers at the time. Thankfully, home video fixed that, allowing viewers to enjoy all the endings at once—or at random.
The stellar ensemble cast—Eileen Brennan, Tim Curry, Madeline Kahn, Christopher Lloyd, Michael McKean, Martin Mull, Warren, Colleen Camp, and Lee Ving—is as perfectly fine-tuned today as it was when the film first rolled the dice nearly 40 years ago.
October 25 ~ Fatal Attraction
A married man's one-night stand comes back to haunt him when that lover begins to stalk him and his family.
The older a movie gets, the harder it can be to imagine what the world was like when it was released and how much attitudes have changed since. It’s why so many films we remember fondly from childhood get a bit cringeworthy when revisited as adults, seen through eyes shaped by different experiences. Take Fatal Attraction, for example. Released by Paramount in 1987, it featured respected stars—though not yet blockbuster names—in a film that spoke directly to adult audiences. Infidelity wasn’t a new topic, nor was the archetype of the scorned woman, but this was the first time the two themes were entangled in such a deadly way.
At a time when AIDS and divorce rates were spiking, Fatal Attraction became a lightning rod for conversations about “traditional family values” and the desire to return to a simpler life. Michael Douglas may have been the bigger star going into the film, but it was Glenn Close and, to a lesser extent, Anne Archer whose careers saw the most significant boost afterward. Both actresses earned Oscar nominations, and while it wasn’t Close’s first, this is the performance I consider the one that got away. Close has since reflected on how she might approach the character differently now, with more understanding of the mental health issues underlying her role. But even as it stands, her performance remains one of the finest committed to film—riveting, tragic, and terrifying. Her character needed help, not rejection, but at the time, she was painted as a villain, a label the film leaned into, albeit compellingly.
Adrian Lyne’s direction ensures the film crackles with tension, as gripping now as it was then. The “director’s cut” restores the original, more somber ending, but test audiences back in the day were right—after everything we’re put through, it’s ultimately unsatisfying. The horror of Fatal Attraction, which is at times genuinely terrifying, lies less in its violence and more in how we treat those we tempt and then discard.
October 26 ~ Nosferatu the Vampyre
Count Dracula moves from Transylvania to Wismar, spreading the Black Plague across the land. Only a woman pure of heart can bring an end to his reign of horror.
No conversation about influential horror films is complete without mentioning F.W. Murnau’s unforgettable 1922 silent classic, Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror. This landmark film has left a lasting impact not just on the horror genre but on filmmaking itself, and it’s getting an eagerly anticipated remake this Christmas. However, Nosferatu has been resurrected before, most notably by German director Werner Herzog in his acclaimed 1979 adaptation. Herzog’s version, shot in both English and German (resulting in a tricky choice, as the two differ slightly), feels more like a dark, dreamlike fairytale than a straightforward horror film. Those expecting fast-paced scares might find it a bit subdued, especially compared to Francis Ford Coppola’s more opulent Dracula adaptation more than a decade later.
What sets Herzog’s Nosferatu apart are two assets no other version has: Klaus Kinski and Isabelle Adjani. Kinski’s Count Dracula—rail-thin, balding, claw-fingered, and grotesquely rat-like—is a night creature burdened with sorrow, haunted by his endless hunger and eternal loneliness. He’s perhaps the first vampire you might find yourself rooting for, hoping he can escape his tragic fate. And then there’s Adjani—arguably one of the most stunning actresses ever to grace the screen. With her crystal blue eyes, porcelain skin, and red lips, she looks like a doll come to life, yet she convincingly evolves from soft-spoken naif to self-sacrificing savior.
The leads are excellent, as is Bruno Ganz as Jonathan Harker. I’m less impressed by the sluggish Van Helsing and an irritatingly over-the-top Renfield, but the film’s gorgeous cinematography more than compensates. For those patient enough to watch it unfold, Herzog creates some truly chilling sequences in the final act using simple, practical techniques that don’t rely on special effects—a refreshing reminder of the elegance of classic filmmaking that’s rarely pursued today.
(My recommendation? Go with the German version, which is generally considered superior.)
October 27 ~ The Bat
A mystery writer moves into a foreboding house rumored to be the stomping ground of a clawed killer. As strange occurrences and murders plague the mansion’s inhabitants, the line between chilling legend and horrifying reality blurs. Can they unmask the truth before it’s too late?
Each October, I make it a point to watch a few older horror films for the first time—those classics I’ve always heard about but somehow missed. It’s a bit of a gamble for #31DaystoScare, since I don’t want to end up recommending a dud. I hesitated on 1959’s The Bat for a while; though I’d heard plenty of positives about this adaptation of a 1908 novel (which also inspired a 1920 silent film), it has its critics. But as it turns out, sometimes you just have to trust your gut—especially when the film stars the inimitable Vincent Price and Agnes Moorehead.
Is The Bat a little silly at times, with some eye-rolling moments that (seem to) undercut its murder mystery vibe? Absolutely. The appealing cast is given dialogue that’s so loaded with exposition, it feels like they’re reciting each other’s character breakdowns instead of actual lines. But director Crane Wilbur more than compensates with a few hair-raising sequences involving a razor-clawed killer—years before Freddy Krueger—known as “The Bat,” who’s on the hunt for a mystery writer (Moorehead) and her guests, slashing his way through anyone who gets in his way.
With deception, opportunistic murder, stolen bonds, and witnesses who should watch what they say, the plot’s got plenty of intrigue to keep you guessing about the identity of The Bat. Clocking in at a brisk 80 minutes, it wastes no time on fluff and dives straight into the thrills, barely giving you a chance to catch your breath. Best of all, it keeps you on edge, offering up the killer’s identity early on—only to completely pull the rug out from under you with a series of twists.
Moorehead is fantastic in one of her few leading roles, practically purring through her lines as Cornelia Van Gorder (a great character name), and delivering the film’s most piercing moment directly to the camera with steely conviction. Though reportedly unhappy with the script, Price is at his charming, crooked-smile best, and Lenita Lane brings a delightful touch as Moorehead’s nervy assistant. The Bat may not be perfect, but it has a great feel for thrills and keeps you entertained throughout its short runtime. Give this one a try; it’s well worth the watch.
October 28 ~ Creature from the Black Lagoon
A strange prehistoric beast lurks in the depths of the Amazonian jungle. A group of scientists try to capture the animal and bring it back to civilization for study.
It’s no secret that I love the movie (theater) going experience, so any of the gimmicks employed during Hollywood’s Golden Age have always fascinated me. Smell-O-Vision, buzzers in seats to goose audiences at the perfect moment, nurses standing by to aid anyone too frightened to proceed, all may have been more fun than the films themselves, but none stood out more or had as lasting an impact as 3-D. Carrying its pros and cons, our modern 3-D process is often the result of post-conversion, so the effects are OK but not as impressive as the genuine thrills of any picture filmed via the 3-D process.
One of those titles was 1954’s Creature from the Black Lagoon, a B-monster movie with a script that otherwise might have regulated it to a double bill with other drive-in fodder being released then. However, with the studio famous for its creature features footing the bill, it’s become a classic, with its titular gill-man joining the ranks of frightmare figures like Dracula, The Wolfman, and Frankenstein.
Rewatching it recently (in 3-D, of course), you’re first struck by how ambitious it is from a plot perspective, not relying on any man-made reasoning for the threat to be present but evolution itself being the culprit. A fossil of a hand with webbed fingers is found in the Amazon, attracting the attention of a team of fish scientists who look like they moonlight as models. Their exploration takes them to, where else, the Black Lagoon and into the habitat of an ancient species of amphibious humanoid that isn’t thrilled about its territory being invaded. Cinema history tells us that the creature is the piece’s villain; however, a solitary watch of Jack Arnold’s slightly overlong film makes it clear that scientific interference with nature is the real source of evil.
In that sense, the film is a bit sad in the way the scientists try to corral and then kill their fishy foe after they disturb its turf. Old-school technique blends with new-fangled technology to make this exciting entertainment, but don’t be surprised if you leave the experience wondering why you don’t feel great about whose side the movie goaded you into joining.
October 29 ~ Death Becomes Her
Longtime rivals discover a potion granting eternal youth, leading to unforeseen consequences
Part of the thrill of being scared in a movie is the laughter that comes right after—the nervous giggle that ripples through a packed theater after a cat leaps out from the shadows, startling an oblivious future slasher victim. Then there are horror comedies, where laughs come first, and the main goal is pure, unadulterated fun. If I had to classify 1992’s Death Becomes Her, I wouldn’t call it horror. Instead, it’s a dark comedy with just the right touch of horror woven through its campy, unforgettable storyline.
Directed by Robert Zemeckis and starring Bruce Willis alongside Oscar winners Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn, Death Becomes Her has become a cult classic over the years. But back in the summer of 1992, it was celebrated as a mischievous delight, a story of immortality gone wrong—a sharp satire of Hollywood’s obsession with beauty, youth, and staying power. Everyone in the cast leans fully into the film’s humor, especially Streep and Hawn, who don’t hesitate to let special effects and (literal) cracks show. Their glamorous rivalry descends into chaotic, and Oscar-winning, effects work: gunshots through torsos and twisted necks are just a few of the hysterical horrors Zemeckis throws at us.
Streep kicks off the film with a campy musical number, and Hawn leans fully into her “crazy cat lady” persona well before that term became iconic. The film has enjoyed such a long afterlife that it’s now been resurrected as a Broadway musical, now in previews and set to open in November. I saw its out-of-town tryout (twice!), and it’s insanely funny, with performances that beautifully pay homage to their cinematic counterparts. Before it tours near you or if you’re planning a trip to NYC, queue up this quirky original for a perfectly spooky good time.
October 30 ~ Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte
Charlotte Hollis, an aging recluse deluded into a state of dementia by horrible memories and hallucinations, lives in a secluded house where, thirty-seven years before, John Mayhew her married lover, was beheaded and mutilated by an unknown assailant. She descends further into madness after the arrival of a lost relative.
Before Hollywood was consumed by “sequel-itis,” studios had another way to capitalize on a film’s success: bring the stars back together in a new movie that could capture the same energy and keep audiences coming back for more. The runaway success of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? in 1962 sparked just such an effort. Warner Bros. saw box office gold not only in the film’s story but in the behind-the-scenes drama between Joan Crawford and Bette Davis, leading other studios to compete for the chance to reunite the iconic stars.
Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte, a southern gothic thriller seemed like a promising reunion project—at first. Davis stars as a tormented southern belle whose reputation is ruined when her married lover (a young Bruce Dern) is gruesomely murdered at a party on her family’s estate. Crawford was cast as the cousin who returns years later when the mansion faces foreclosure, with Davis’s character refusing to leave. But soon after filming began, issues arose. The gossipy details (like Crawford’s eventual replacement by Olivia de Havilland, who had to bring her own costumes due to the tight schedule) can be found on the IMDb trivia page, but suffice it to say, tensions were high.
While we may never know how the film would have played with Crawford (likely a bit campier), de Havilland and Davis make a powerful pair. Their chemistry fuels this gothic, gory (for its time), and wonderfully creepy horror film that ultimately received seven Oscar nominations. Most nods recognized the film’s technical achievements (its cinematography, with striking use of shadows and light, is a standout), but the sole acting nomination went to Agnes Moorehead as the long-suffering housekeeper hiding her own secrets.
For an Academy traditionally hesitant to recognize horror, Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte stood out for its sophistication. It’s a gripping horror-thriller that keeps you guessing right up to the end—proof that sometimes getting “the gang back together” can still produce cinematic magic.
October 31 ~ The Others
In 1945, immediately following the end of Second World War, a woman who lives with her two photosensitive children on her darkened old family estate becomes convinced that the home is haunted.
The summer of 2001 marked the beginning of Nicole Kidman’s second act. In June, Moulin Rouge! burst onto the scene, wowing audiences and critics alike, earning Kidman her first Oscar nomination. Then, in August, with her divorce from Tom Cruise freshly inked, a film he produced for her, The Others, hit theaters. Gone was the vibrant star of Baz Luhrmann’s musical spectacle—here was Kidman delivering bone-chilling, subdued elegance in one of the most haunting performances of her career. Alejandro Amenábar’s The Others is the kind of supernatural thriller that sends shivers down your spine without spilling a drop of blood, a perfect choice to close out 2024’s 31 Days to Scare.
Set in the eerie aftermath of WWII, Kidman plays a fiercely protective mother living with her two sickly young children in a grand but desolate Channel Islands estate. The arrival of three enigmatic servants seems to awaken a sinister force lurking in the shadows, a force that grows ever more malevolent. Amenábar weaves the story with meticulous attention, layering the mystery with subtle clues, while Javier Aguirresarobe’s lush cinematography intensifies the tension. (Note: the new 4K UHD disc from Criterion is stunning!) Kidman’s character clings to her faith not as a flaw but as her only anchor—a key to both the story’s central riddle and the eerie way it remains hidden until the end.
Kidman, who would go on to win her Oscar the following year for The Hours, delivers one of her most powerful performances here, balancing fragility and fierceness with a magnetic presence. She’s backed by an outstanding cast, including the formidable Fionnula Flanagan, who embodies a spine-tingling calm as the mysterious housekeeper. What makes The Others so enduringly terrifying is that Kidman and the cast don’t play it as a ghost story; they play it as a harrowing reality. Their performances draw us so deeply into this world that every creak, every shadow, and every revelation feels intensely personal. This connection makes the revelations in the final moments all the more chilling.
This year’s 31 Days to Scare has been packed with solid horror picks and a few tailored recommendations, but The Others is a must-see any time of year. It’s a masterclass in atmosphere, a film that practically demands to be watched on a dark and stormy night when the subtle creeps are at their best.