best (favorite) horror films of the millennium

A coworker today asked if I’d seen The Babadook, a recently released horror movie. I haven’t, as it’s yet to be available via Netflix and it’s going to have a very limited run here in Seattle—as in this weekend only-- which I will miss because life is nothing if not insanely busy these days. I commented to my fellow coworker that The Babadook looked like it had the potential to be very good, which would be welcome because there simply haven’t been very many good horror movies this millennium. Which inevitably led to the question: what are the best horror movies of the millennium? Ok, that sounds too grand and at the same time too vague, so: what are my favorite horror movies of the millennium?

If you’ve been unfortunate enough to endure one of my rants about “they just don’t make ‘em good anymore” you’ll know that I’m not, in general, a fan of what horror cinema has had to offer since 2000. Really, since the early 1990s, if I’m being honest. Some of this is simply a taste thing; I’m no fan of CGI, for instance, which has nearly destroyed the once proud art of movie special effects. CGI is fine for video games but should be used sparingly, if at all, in movies, especially horror films. I’m also more drawn to the organic unease of the cheap, low-budget exploitation/grindhouse cinema of the 70s/80s and the Italian horror cinema of the same period. I miss film stock and struggle with antiseptic cleanliness of even the cheapest digital film. I grew up in the 80s and naturally have a fondness for even the worst slashers of the period over what comes out today. Yada, yada.

But that isn’t to say that a good horror movie can’t be made today. In particular, the easy access of technology makes the entry point easier for the would-be auteur, much like anyone can create a one-man band in their bedroom and make some astounding music, if the vision and passion is there. And there have been some good ones. Actually, there have been more than I would have initially thought. (What? An initial knee-jerk reaction is proven wrong upon further examination? Say it ain’t so!) So here is my little spin through my personal favorites since January 1, 2000. Perhaps the oddest thing I discovered putting this list together is how the memory plays tricks on a person—as mentioned in the blurbs below, there were several of these I would have sworn came out in 90s. I guess that’s what happens when you become an old man. As always with these kind of lists, I’m sure I forgot at least a couple that will have me slapping my forehead at some point in the future.

Again, let me stress that these are my personal favorites, not necessarily the most important films to the genre as whole. There is no Hostel here, for instance, because while it’s clearly an important film to the genre and essential when discussing the arc of and context for horror cinema in the 2000s, I don’t think it’s a particularly good film. Regardless of what one feels about “torture porn” as a sub-genre (and it’s an understandably dicey area for many folks), Eli Roth’s movies have always felt leaden to me. They drag. He’s clearly a fan of much of the same stuff as I and an articulate spokesman for horror cinema. I just don’t care for his movies. Ditto for the Saw movies. Actually, the first two Saw movies are pretty well done but they never gave me that spark, that frisson, which the best of the genre provides and I can’t imagine sitting through the rest of the series. Your mileage may vary.

So here they are, in no particular order. Enjoy!

The Descent

This 2005 British film always leaps to mind when I think of a modern horror movie done right. It is a psychological film strongly acted, character-driven, with the “scary monsters” playing an appropriate background role to the group dynamic which really drives the film. I am fortunate enough to not suffer from claustrophobia, but this film made me feel it, and it wouldn’t let go after it was over. It is well-balanced in all aspects and hums along like a smooth engine…an engine whose intent is to scare you, and scare you well.

I think there may still be people out there who think a horror movie is all about gore, monsters and bad acting. Make them watch The Descent to find out just how wrong they are. Note: In typical Hollywood stupidity, a different ending was tacked onto the U.S. theatrical release and, I believe, to at least one DVD version. Make sure you get the unrated DVD with the original British ending, which packs a far stronger emotional wallop and ends the movie on a somber, unsettled note.

Let the Right One In

When my best friend and I were having a fun debate about our all-time favorite horror movies last autumn, this and Ginger Snaps (see below) were the only post-2000 movies to make the cut on my list. Some would argue Let the Right One In is not even a horror movie, merely using the trappings of a vampire film to explore the loneliness of childhood and the first stirrings of love. I agree that the movie does this, but it is still a horror movie, not a romantic (or worse, sentimental) film. Horror does not have to be about scares and little in this movie scares or shocks. Rather, it is a starkly beautiful film that makes excellent use of the gorgeous, desolate Swedish winter landscape. The term “haunting” gets thrown around all too often but is completely appropriate here. This movie will haunt you. And here’s the thing: you’ll find yourself thinking about it long after you watched it and you’ll slowly realize just how ambiguous the story was. This is a movie open to many interpretations. You may also find yourself wondering how the characters progressed over the years and what happened to them (please don’t ever ruin this by actually making a sequel.)

I also recommend the book of the same name by John Ajvide Lindqvist, upon which the movie is based. While clearly still a young writer (not helped by a poor translating job), the force of his story comes through and provides an experience almost as moving as the film. Note that, because Hollywood has not had an original idea in decades, this movie was dumbed-down and remade in America under the title Let Me In. Please avoid as there is nothing impenetrable about the Swedish original. Supporting such crap only leads to more travesties. Respect yourself!

Ju-on: The Grudge

Probably my favorite J-horror film, Ju-on is an unsettling, creepy as all get-out surreal film that works primarily on an atmospheric level. In other words, plot is secondary (there isn’t much of one) and there is no key protagonist for the audience to identify with. Such territory is dangerous to enter. Most films that try are incoherent messes or utterly pretentious bullshit. But when a film expertly uses these tools, it can lead to some of the most striking successes in the field. I’d definitely argue that Ju-on works.

When I saw it, the J-horror wave and endless American remakes hadn’t really happened yet. For someone viewing it for the first time today, I wonder if it some of the impact is lost due to so many of its elements becoming stock clichés. I’ve recently been thinking of revisiting it, but regardless of what I might discover if I do so, the fact that I still shiver well over a decade later when recalling certain scenes is enough for me to rank it as one of the finest of the decade. If Psycho hasn’t fully scared you off from showers, Ju-on will gladly finish the job. Although it’s the ghost faces of the victims on the wall which still sends shudders down my spine…a great film. And no, I never saw the remake or the sequels. They may be fine, or not. The original is good enough for me.

Open Water

My greatest irrational fear is of drowning. While this film is not about drowning per se, the premise is so completely frightening to me that my mind recoils at even contemplating it in the abstract. Basically: Couple vacationing goes out on a group scuba dive. Folks in charge take an inaccurate headcount. Couple surfaces to realize boat has left. Eventually they realize they’ve been forgotten. Just the two of them in the open sea…well, and the sharks. Did I mention it’s based on a true story?

While not a found-footage film, Open Water is from the Blair Witch less is more school. Only twice as terrifying because there’s nothing supernatural here. There is virtually no music, just the sound of the water around the couple. By stripping everything to the bone, Open Water ends up being one of the most effective minimalist horror films I’ve ever seen. And not just because it keys into my greatest fear. A film like this is so psychologically intense that you feel as if you’ve been sucker-punched for hours after you’ve seen it. My admiration for such an accomplishment knows no bounds. I also really like my bed in my house that sits on nice, solid ground…

Pan’s Labyrinth

Ah, what a magical film! Just thinking about it makes me long to see it again. It was a close call as to whether it would be Pan’s Labyrinth or Guillermo del Toro’s other wonderful film, The Devil’s Backbone, on this list. In the end, I thought the ghost reveal in The Devil’s Backbone robbed the movie of much of its beauty and emotional heft—the CGI took me right out of the film. It’s still a great movie, but Pan’s Labyrinth is a masterpiece.

Fairy tales are dark little nuggets, aren’t they? Juxtaposing this dark childhood fable against the brutal reality of the early Francoist period in Spain allows the tale to extract maximum impact. It never floats off into the ether, despite the fantastical fairy creatures. Instead of Disneyfied, bland creatures, we get the real fairy tale deal—everyday creatures that talk (such as the stick insect) and frightening creatures of an underworld that is oh so close to our “real” world (such as the terrifying Pale Man.) And while there is some CGI, del Toro wisely relies heavily on make-up and animatronics, making these unreal creatures feel much closer to us.

I was fortunate enough to see Pan’s Labyrinth in the theater (a rare occurrence) and I’ll never forget walking out of the movie and looking up to see a dark thunderstorm coming in. By the time I got to the store, thunder and lightning had struck. While picking up an orange, the power went out briefly, then came back on. I got home and both my wife and daughters were unexpectedly gone. They’d simply forgotten to leave a note, but I was unable to get a hold of them and I felt as though I’d come out of the theater into a nightmare fable where all the rules had changed. Fairy tales were real. Rationally I knew this to not be the case, and of course everything turned out fine in the end. But for a couple of hours, the world looked very different—I could sense other worlds just under the surface. Dark worlds. Such was the effect of Pan’s Labyrinth.

(Note: del Toro really fell off a cliff for me after this film. He’s got a new one due out in October, Crimson Peak, and it looks to be his first horror film since Pan’s Labyrinth—or The Devil’s Backbone, if you consider Pan’s Labyrinth a dark fantasy [but isn’t that what horror is?] I’m hopeful he’ll recapture the magic he is capable of, we sorely need it and he’s too talented to keep spewing out boring Hollywood garbage.)

Ginger Snaps

And here we have the first of the films I swore came out in the 90s. To be fair, it was 2000 when it came out, so I wasn’t far off. Have I mentioned that I love, love, love this movie? I love it. I do. It’s not perfect—there is some hammy overacting, and on occasion it isn’t sure what kind of tone it is going for—but when it works, it is the best that horror cinema can offer.

I’ve always thought of werewolves as the neglected stepchildren of horror. Yeah, there’s a few classic stories and a few classic films, but the possibilities of the creature as a metaphor are much shallower than his cousin the zombie. He doesn’t have the illustrious history of the vampire. Etc. With Ginger Snaps, John Fawcett and Karen Walton use the werewolf myth as a metaphor for the changes puberty enacts on teenage girls, and it works beautifully. It may not be particularly subtle, but what about puberty is? The tagline says it all: “They don’t call it the curse for nothing!”

Ginger Snaps is mostly well-acted, though Mimi Rogers as the Mom plays the role far too over the top and the scenes with her slow the intensity of the story down (with the hilarious exception of the scene where she makes a cake to celebrate her daughter’s first period—it’s every girl’s worst nightmare, and the one scene where the comedy is perfectly in tune with the story.) Ginger Snaps may attempt to do too much—leading to its somewhat uneven tone—but I admire it for its reach and when it does hit, it packs a wallop. The final moments are both terrifying and heartbreaking. That’s what great horror does. I’ve watched this film half a dozen times and will probably watch it many more. If I could just convince my eldest daughter to watch it with me…

(Note: there are two sequels, but everything I’ve read/seen about them looks pretty bad. Not even good independent films are immune from *this* curse.)

Pontypool

This is an odd film. Though not half as odd as the book it’s based on, which would be a massive post in its own right. I’m not even really sure how to describe this movie…it’s like a Burroughs cut-up crossed with a rural Canada winter storm plus a whiskey bottle full of talk radio. Or something. Really, you just have to see it.

Especially if you are a person who loves language. The central conceit—language as a virus—has certainly been explored before, but Pontypool offers up a unique if oblique spin. And full props to Stephen McHattie, who has to carry this film with his performance and does a great job. I mean, the budget for this thing was probably 20 bucks and some hot coffee, but the films turns this to its advantage. You will spend most of the film confused, and in fact may be even more confused when it ends (you’ll need a straightjacket if you ever read the book.) It’s an exercise in minimalism without being pretentious. There is almost no action, yet I was riveted through the whole thing. It saddens me that films like this slip into obscurity while crap like Van Helsing gets a massive promotional push. People, I implore you: support these small movies. Hugh Jackman and Universal don’t need your dollars. Small, local independent productions do. And they are worth it.

The Ring

And here is the second film I swore was made in the 90s. To be fair, the original Japanese version was. This American remake came out in 2002 and it’s…better? Wait, don’t I always complain about stupid American remakes and the lack of ideas in Hollywood? I do, and call me hypocritical if you must, but there is an exception that proves every rule. Not stupid in the least, I think this remake is a much better film than the original.

Naomi Watts has a lot to do with that, grounding the film with a performance that keeps you emotionally involved in her story, even though the screenwriters couldn’t be bothered to give her character the depth she deserves. The Pacific Northwest setting naturally registers with me, so I have to be honest that it contributes to my preference for this version as well. Naomi’s kid still annoys the piss out of me, though. I hate movies that treat kid characters like dumb, unimaginative creatures that can’t do much more than cry and whine. This doesn’t come into play too much in The Ring, but it pretty much sinks the sequel.

Dependent as it is on a technology we no longer use (VHS tapes, everyone!) The Ring is probably mostly a curiosity now. I can’t pretend it has a gut-level impact. But if you can suspend disbelief for a couple of hours, you’ll find more than a few creepy moments. And I have fond memories of watching it alone while the wife and kid were in bed, so it makes this list.

Paranormal Activity

Before writing up these films (but not after deciding on my list) I browsed a number of lists on the same subject—the best horror films of the aughts. And I was surprised that no list had Paranormal Activity. I thought this film was well-regarded? Has it just been spoiled by endless sequels?

Look, it sports a ludicrous plot, absolutely. That’s hardly a crime for a horror film. This is one of the few films of the decade to make me literally jump in my seat. I’m pretty jaded, and even though I knew it had to be coming, it still happened. For that alone it deserves praise. Maybe I’m just fond of a good found-footage film. Found-footage is today a played-out concept, used and abused, but when done right it can still be quite effective. None of the characters in this film are likeable, but that didn’t make the suspense and fear any less intense.

I haven’t seen any of the sequels and have no intention of doing so, but if you’ve been avoiding this one because of the hype, give it a try. Like The Blair Witch Project—which I also love—it’s a victim of its own success, but treat it simply as a film out to scare you and you might be surprised at how well it performs that task. You might even jump.

The Ones That Just Missed...

So, there’s a few movies that didn’t make my list but I feel are worth mentioning, either because they just missed the cut or you’d expect to see them here. To wit:

The Mist: One of the best Stephen King adaptions, I thought long and hard about including it on this list as it really is an excellent movie. In the end, it’s just a little too slick for what is essentially a B-picture. Love the ending though, a rare case of the movie bettering the story. If you’re a King fan, it’s essential.

28 Days Later: Good but not great. Effective first third dissolves into a slow, dragging picture with an ending that completely drops the ball. Feels like more could have been done with the premise but the first half hour is well done.

Shaun of the Dead: Fun and funny, but not truly a horror movie and I don’t like comedy horror unless you’re Evil Dead 2. Then you rule.

A Tale of Two Sisters: Haunting, melancholy Asian horror, and one of the better ghost stories of the decade. Didn’t make this list but I still recommend it.

Wolf Creek: Like Hostel, Wolf Creek is brutally hard to watch. Unlike Hostel, it gets under your skin. It feels like it matters. It’s one of those films that makes you question why you are watching it. And for that I admire it. It is a well-made, effective film that leaves me uncomfortable. And so, honestly, I just can’t call it a favorite. If I was listing the most important films, though, it would be there.

The Devil’s Rejects: Rob Zombie clearly digs the same grindhouse and exploitation films I do, and this movie is essentially a tribute to those films. What can I say, I just prefer the originals. If you dig that stuff too, this is worth a watch. But definitely not for the squeamish. This came out before the retro grindhouse craze had really exploded and it turned a lot of people on to the aesthetic of those films. For that I give it complete props.

The House of the Devil: I’m including this only because I’ve seen it on a few best of lists and for the life of me, I don’t understand why. The first three-quarters give a new meaning to SLOOOOOW, letting any potential atmosphere seep away, and the final third is just so, so hackneyed. I ended up entertaining myself by predicting each cliché and saying it aloud as I watched the final 30 minutes. Too bad, because Jocelin Donahue actually gives a good performance but the movie around her is just totally lost…except for those couple of minutes where she dances around to The Fixx’s “One Thing Leads to Another.” That was pretty awesome.  

The Awakening: The first half was just about everything I could want in a ghost story, but lord did it fall apart into a pile of threadbare clichés and plot coincidences by the end. That the first half was so good—and that it was unusually well-acted overall—makes me sad about what could have been. Recommended anyway but with reservations.

The Human Centipede: Just kidding, it didn’t come close to making the cut. C’mon, does anyone actually think this is a good film? Get beyond the gross-out factor and there’s nothing there. I’ve got no issue with grossness, but I’ve got no use for empty films that fail to entertain or make me think. And The Human Centipede fails on both counts.

…And The Ones That I Haven’t Seen Yet

I’m sure there are many additional ones I’ve missed, but these seven stand out.

Audition: I’m embarrassed to admit I still haven’t seen this, and I have no idea why. And now it appears to be gone from Netflix. I will see it soon, I swear. There’s no excuse as this is clearly one of the key horror films of the 00s and Takashi Miike is an unsettling, fascinating director.

Dawn of the Dead: Yeah, I don’t really dig the whole remake thing, but more than a few folks have recommended this as being a cut above such swill. I don’t know, it takes a lot to get me past my deep distaste for remakes. Maybe someday, but not a priority.

Rec: Word is this is actually pretty good, not just one of the many lame found-footage films that popped up like flies on a corpse mid-decade. One of those films I mean to watch but always seem to find something else to watch instead.

The Strangers: I wasn’t aware of this film at all until I started researching this post, but it appears on virtually every list and now I’m intrigued.

Antichrist: I have mixed feelings about the undeniably talented Lars von Trier. This movie has been in my Netflix queue virtually forever, yet I’ve never yet found the right time to approach it. But that time will come.

Martyrs: The New French Extremity movement is most definitely not for all (or most) tastes, but I admire its power nonetheless. I don’t know that I’m “looking forward” to seeing this film, but see it I will. I admire a film willing to take me where I don’t want to go.

Inside: Speaking of The New French Extremity…yeah. I will be watching this one too, but only when I feel I have the strength. From all accounts, this is as brutal and as scary as they come.

So what did I miss? Let me know…I always enjoy a good movie discussion.