The 2024 Samhain Awards: Notes from Satan's Kingdom
2026-08-17 14:18:57.559717
2024 was a firm course correction for the genre. A lot of dumb money got burned out of the game by attrition in these last few years, and a lot of great independent talent got scooped up by the multiplex machine. For all the excesses of normalized sadism, our collective loosening standards & widening gyres allow horror cinema to be more honest than ever. There is a long, strange straight line from Salo to Saltburn, from Brian Yuzna to Yorgos Lanthimos. All kinds of intensely weird shit can get sold now, but that also means the field is again crowded with mere entryists, vultures & dilettante hacks. Some of them do excellent work, too. It's a complicated world.
There are reasonable questions to be asked about the mass traumatization of the American viewing public going mainstream to widespread acclaim over the past decade, but the hour is pretty late for that. Everyone is a little twitchy these days. You can see a glimmer of what's coming in the eyes of strangers, everywhere you go. It permeates everyday life like the smell of our endless summer wildfires.
A great year, then! Once again I have wasted hundreds of hours on this dipshit garbage fire of an artform and once again, no other opinions are remotely correct in the face of what follows. There is a top ten here, but the order is only loosely implied.
The Wait. I hold this to be a perfect film, existing in a place beyond critique or even commentary. There is no aspect of this Spanish fable that allows room for improvement: the writing is lean, the acting compelling and the cinematography beyond belief. Miguel Angel Mora makes the most of the Andalusian landscape to render bold, lush chiaroscuro shots, truly painting with light. Víctor Clavijo carries the film on his shoulders from start to devastating finish. Perhaps most impressively, one F. Javier Gutiérrez is listed as both writer and director. To achieve such a clear standout in a year so packed with deliriously worthy nightmares is a miracle you must see.
Red Rooms. My personal favorite from 2024, this is a brilliantly unfolded story full of powerful performances. One of them is the lens of cinematographer Vicent Biron, who is able to work miracles in tight quarters that frequently had me cursing at the screen. (In practice, the highest compliment I can give a movie.) The balance that is stuck here between slow burn & sharp twist is masterful. That said, I suspect it all would have fallen apart without Juliette Gariépy in the lead. Equally impressive was Maxwell McCabe-Lokos, who bends gravity in every scene without even speaking. I had to watch it twice to catch the full extent of how sociopathically brilliant that finish really was. Pascal Plante is a world class talent and I am looking forward to his next, King's Daughters, getting some distribution soon.
Longlegs. The leanest & coldest dose of despair Oz Perkins has yet inflicted upon the world. I have seen a few horror films involving Satanic abuse networks over the years that made me wonder if they were written by survivors. Longlegs is the first time I've wondered if it was written by perpetrators. An undeniable bad trip that assaults the audience from the opening scene, this stands as one of the best of the decade so far. It improves with repeated viewings, not because of the celebrated easter eggs but because of how it manages to make such blatantly staged surrealism seem grounded & gritty. This macabre genre lionizes auteurs too soon, but Perkins has earned a permanent place in the pantheon.
Exhuma. My favorite Korean horror film since The Wailing, and completely different from all that demonic nihilism, too. Critics addressing this as mere "folk horror" should be Wicker Man'd for their sloth; it cheapens how pure this is, a universal hauntology. A mystery, a ghost story, a poem about how deep history really runs. Every scene is working on several levels and every character is a fully articulated human being. To tell such an inherently ridiculous story with such gravitas is nothing short of magic. This is a long but rewarding journey through the Gojoseon Id, and I've never seen anything quite like it.
Strange Darling. This film is the primary reason that this list comes two years late: too many people I trusted assured me this was top shelf goods. It turned out to be a pretentious, smug art film that told a simple story deliberately scrambled out of order by a showoff writer. Worse yet, all those choices were justified at every brilliant turn. Writer & director JT Mollner is a legit genius and the entire cast here shines. Again, Kyle Gallner delivers one of the best genre performances of the year, but old boy got upstaged in high style by Willa Fitzgerald. I believe this will, long-term, be considered an Americana classic on par with Texas Chainsaw Massacre or True Romance.
In A Violent Nature. This is a patient, uncompromising art film that also happens to be one of the most brutal slashers in recent memory. I have watched this a half dozen times now and haven't been shaken much in my belief it is a stone cold masterpiece. In a brilliant twist, this has to be watched at high volumes in order for the viewer to catch 90% of the script. The camera is the co-star here, helmed by none other than Pierce Dirks, who has two prior masterpieces under his belt: The Void and Mandy, just an insane resume for one man to have. It is a testament to how packed 2024 was that this isn't ranked number one with a bullet. I understand there is a sequel in the works and I expect to be disappointed, painfully.
Dream Scenario. Not for everyone, jagged on every edge, but one of the most unpredictable exercises in magical realism I've seen in the past decade. Unlike the atonal, artsy indulgence of Beau is Afraid, this is far more rooted in straightforward horror, even as it plays out like a cross between John Cassavetes and Charlie Kaufman. The setup is a Twilight Zone conceit, but the relentless and realistic grind of how that conceit wears down one family's life is one of the cruelest narrative spirals I saw this year. Nic Cage may have given the genre a more iconic performance in 2024, but I believe this film to be one of his best.
I Saw the TV Glow. A stubbornly different approach to horror, full of bright colors, shaded ambiguities and horny angst. Old reactionaries like me are hardly the target audience for the Jane Schoenbruns of the world but I was entranced just the same and I will immediately check out whatever they do next. The commitment of the cast assembled here is what sold it, but for movie nerds & aesthetes, the production work is strong, cohesive and fresh, grounded in New Wave Euro glam and limnal 90's memories. An arthouse joint that looks exactly like it was written. Highly recommended.
Front Room. A cheeky curveball from A24 that alienated audiences by lampooning the tropes of A24's own elevated horror formulas. Gross old people, a modernist comedy of manners, murky generational curses, and "the real monster is racism" conceits all get lined up and beheaded on the relentless march to a final joke that will either leave you wheezing laughing or deeply disappointed. For me, every detail of this awkward middle finger was a choice that paid off. It would have been impossible without Kathryn Hunter, who gives the most Shakespearian lead villain performance I've seen since Willam de Wolf's exterminator in Tailgate.
And finally, The First Omen. A total anomaly, a pointless reboot cash grab that insisted upon being the best movie in the entire franchise. This was supposed to be another dogshit 20th Century Fox tax writeoff, but instead Arakasha Stevenson opted to make one of the top ten horror films of a highly competitive year. The screenwriting team, the lead performance of the improbably named Nell Tiger Free, and Aaron Morton's cinematography all deserve equal credit here. On par with Alavarez's Evil Dead and Aja's The Hills Have Eyes, Stevenson is in rare company, taking an old property to a new level. Welcome to the Grand Guignol.
2024 had altogether too much to offer, so there were some superb-ass movies that didn't make the cut. Let's address those first, because this was an exemplary year and they are all finely polished products.
Late Night With The Devil. I was less impressed with this than most of you but it was a 2024 highlight, no question. The team of Colin and Cameron Cairnes have taken what is basically the setup for a V/H/S short and expanded it into a compelling feature. Having David Dastmalchian absolutely chewing the scenery as a Larry Sanders / William Shatner hybrid certainly helped, too. This is a passion project full of superb period details, but the ambition here is miles beyond the execution. That has never been a real problem in this genre, so this remains essential & disorienting viewing.
Humane. I know, I know - another fucking Cronenberg? Yeah, yes. Unfortunately for us all, this indie one-act from daughter Caitlin was extremely funny and enjoyable. The writing and the ensemble are what really sells this. In particular, Enrico Colantoni's performance carries the entire closing arc, a tense, sad and all too human monster. That is not to diminish the smart, hard work of everyone else involved, but if his role was miscast, this movie could have been an afterthought instead of a strong debut. Aside from the Adams crew over at Wonder Wheel Productions, I can't think of another lineage where horror is truly the family business.
Alien: Romulus. While I was deeply disappointed by the finale that Fede Alvarez served up, the opening sequence & initial descent into hell were beautifully done. It all still felt strangely flat, though Cailee Spaeny and David Jonsson are both destined for greater things. Between O'Bannons nightmares, Giger's designs, Scott's execution and Cameron's elaboration, nobody has matched that intensity and realism since. Even though this latest reinvention fell short, I think it came closer than anything since Prometheus. Which is to say, this was better than 99% of all contemporary sci-fi. I was surprised to learn that production designer Naaman Marshall also worked on The Prestige, so perhaps my praise is superfluous, but this was one of the best-looking films in the franchise.
Abigail. I held the presses for this one on the advice of trusted deviants, and they were right again. This turned out to be another exceptional studio product thanks to an over-powered cast and a production team going ham; I was reminded of 2019's Ready or Not. It turns that is because it's the exact same team of Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett directing a script from Guy Busick, whose knack for grounding supernatural horror in concrete details and funny asides is basically a money printer. Yet without the Irish wunderkind Alisha Weir as the titular ballerina demon who is also a sweet & complicated little girl, this would have barely been a footnote. She is an unholy force.
The Substance looked like a billion dollars and had many dozens of unforgettable visual gags. It was also a masterclass in practical makeup effects and memorably fucked-up body horror. That would be hard to beat in an off year, but among the carnage and splendor of 2024, this joint was not top ten to me. Let that serve as a reminder how pointless my exertions are: this movie will have a long-term cultural impact on par with Top Gun. Being right about everything is a lonely road, but it's mine.
I understand the Salem's Lot remake was "widely panned" but I loved it. Like 2023's oddball Children of the Corn, I think it was an overall improvement on the original product. Another much maligned content factory failure I enjoyed was Hellboy: The Crooked Man. While it couldn't equal del Toro's heights, it was both faithful and fun. I believe Brian Taylor and Jack Kesy are archly qualified to mine the 40's-60's long arc of Mignola's sprawling mythos. How could anyone complain about such goofy gothic excess? Comic book fans are almost as insufferable as video game nerds: nothing will make them happy and they shouldn't be consulted on anything.
Leaving artists in charge often ends badly, too. French zombie joint MadS had some great moments and ballsy camera work, but it never came together. Stopmotion was a viscerally bleak attempt at pushing the envelope, but I suspect it was just a test run for whatever Robert Morgan does next. Tilman Singer's Cuckoo was another highly promising miss, but still essential viewing for the sickos. I suspect whatever they do next is going to blow minds. Azrael was particularly disappointing, with a strong cast, some heavyweight production work, yet all that immense potential was squandered on a script that had no idea how to sustain momentum or suspense.
That said, there can only be on winner of the annual Head Count Award for tragically blown opportunities, and the apex specimen this year cost almost fifty million dollars. The Last Voyage of the Demeter was impossibly bad. The cast, the set, and Tom "Mystic River" Stern's glorious cinematography were all, somehow, wasted effort. It's an impressive failure; if I hated myself enough, I might even watch it again as a study. Meanwhile, a French adaptation of a Tolstoy story filmed with actual puppets delivered a more hypnotic vampire experience. It's called The Vourdalak and fans of the Russian classic Viy are highly advised to enjoy this bizarre chamber piece.
As ever, a lot of top shelf product turned out to be garbage juice. Night Swim, about a haunted swimming pool in the suburbs, had some incredible shots thanks to Charlie Sarroff. Past that, it was simply stupid. Smile 2 was almost exactly the same, right on down to having Sarroff shooting every scene, but there was also some world class creature design work by Vincent Proce and the Studio Gillis team. Despite all that skilled labor, it remains the microwaved Hamburger Helper version of It Follows, inferior product in every sense. An Appeal to Heaven: stop wasting talent like this on such mediocre screenplays.
Terrifier 3 duly escalated the stakes, but for me, Art the Clown has been boring from the jump. Don't get me wrong: David Howard Thornton is an artiste. So is Damien Leone, yet his horizon is limited by the diminishing gains of ever-escalating onscreen atrocities. Past a certain point, you're just raping people with their own severed body parts. It turns out a lot of ticket buyers in the United States enjoy exactly that, so his franchise grows more successful with every new addition. Just like with Wes Craven or Roger Corman, I think the real long-term legacy here will be all the new independent professionals who emerge from his finishing school to create their own torture gardens. Soon!
Finally, my favorite unsung indie gem of the year was an easy call: It's What's Inside was a fully formed debut for writer and director Greg Jardin. I love surprises like this one. Despite a flat-out stupid setup and an invisibly low budget, this manages to be one of the best party movies in ages. By which I mean it's over the top, sleazy, twisty, and satisfying. The screenplay gives the cast so much elbow room to work with that parsing out the many mysteries here is a real joy to watch.