by Samantha McLaren, Staff Writer

According to Letterboxd, I’ve watched 263 films so far this year. Of those, 211 are horror movies, many of them new releases. And why not? 2024 has been a remarkable year for horror, crammed with highly anticipated sequels, indie gems, and international delights. Honing in on a top 10 feels near impossible, but let’s give it a shot.

My list this year skews bleak, which is either a reflection of the world we’re living in right now or just of the type of year I’ve had. A few honorable mentions that didn’t quite make the cut include puppet-forward French period horror The Vourdalak (dir. Adrien Beau), claymation-meets-live-action nightmare Stopmotion (dir. Robert Morgan), and quietly unsettling Scandi zombie flick Handling the Undead (dir. Thea Hvistendahl). Shout out, too, to the big-budget scares of A Quiet Place: Day One (dir. Michael Sarnoski), which made me reconsider a franchise I’d previously written off, as well as the weird and wonderful Cuckoo (dir. Tilman Singer) and the icy wickedness of Longlegs (dir. Osgood Perkins). All are well worthy of a watch if you haven’t checked them out already.

But before this list gets to be 100 titles long, here are the top 10 films that have been living rent-free in my brain this year. The exact order changes depending on what day you ask me, but my love for them does not.

10. Red Rooms (dir. Pascal Plante)

It takes a lot to make me squirm, but there’s one scene in French-Canadian thriller Red Rooms that had me crawling out of my skin. If you’ve seen it, you know the one. Plante’s film centers around the trial of the serial killer Ludovic Chevalier (Maxwell McCabe-Loko) and the groupies that flock to the courtroom every day to get a glimpse of him, especially the inscrutable Kelly-Anne (Juliette Gariépy) and the naive Clémentine (Laurie Babin). While the latter is convinced of Chevalier’s innocence, Kelly-Anne’s interest in the case is far more mysterious and sinister, with Plante ratcheting up the tension as her alarming behavior escalates. One of few horror films to focus on the dark web without coming across as naive as Clémentine, Red Rooms peers into the abyss and finds it staring back, unblinking.

9. Late Night with the Devil (dirs. Cameron Cairns and Colin Cairns)

A loving homage to iconic British mockumentary Ghostwatch (dir. Lesley Manning), 70s-set Late Night with the Devil is a good deal less subtle, but certainly no less fun. David Dastmalchian makes a convincing case for why he ought to be a leading man playing Jack Delroy, the host of a struggling late-night talk show who makes some bad choices on his quest for ratings. Among those is the decision to feature a possessed girl as part of his Halloween line-up, triggering a devastating series of events that will turn the broadcast upside down. With a little more effort put into landing the found-footage aesthetic, Late Night for the Devil could have been one for the ages. As it stands, it’s a hugely enjoyable romp elevated by some superb practical effects and the magnetic charisma of its star.

8. The Coffee Table (dir. Caye Casas)

There are some things you just don’t do in movies, even those of the horrific variety. Caye Casas’ The Coffee Table does them and dares you not to laugh. The film follows Jesús (David Pareja) and Maria (Estefanía de los Santos), a couple pushing through a rocky period in their relationship after having their first child. Desperate to regain a sense of control over where his life is headed, Jesús insists on buying a hideously tacky glass coffee table, a decision that will change the couple’s lives forever. Darkly comedic and anxiety-inducing all at once, The Coffee Table is proof that what you don’t see will haunt you.

7. Milk & Serial (dir. Curry Barker)

Clocking in at just over one hour and made on a microscopic budget of $800, Milk & Serial dropped for free on YouTube this summer and deserves far more than the 1.3 million views it’s garnered so far. Curry Barker wrote, directed, edited, scored, and stars in the found-footage thriller, which sees two YouTube pranksters going too far. Featuring a creepier smile than Smile 2 could muster up, Milk & Serial is a gaslit look at the perils of online prank fame, especially if a psychopath is pulling the strings.

6. In a Violent Nature (dir. Chris Nash)

A slasher movie for the modern age, Chris Nash’s In a Violent Nature invites us to follow over the shoulder of a Jason Voorhees-esque killer as he rises from the slumber of death to reclaim the locket that was stolen from him. Despite boasting multiple contenders for best kill of the year, In a Violent Nature is most notable for the quiet empathy with which it portrays its supernatural killer and the very deliberate way it shifts focus in the third act toward its final girl. The meditative, seemingly endless walking scenes will put some viewers off, but if you can keep a steady pace, the destination is surprisingly beautiful.

5. Oddity (dir. Damian Mc Carthy)

Writer-director Damian Mc Carthy proved with his feature debut Caveat that he’s got a knack for building quiet, creeping dread and finding uniquely disquieting objects. With Oddity, he goes two for two, telling the story of a blind curio shop owner (Carolyn Bracken) attempting to solve her sister’s murder with the help of a life-size, open-mouthed wooden mannequin. A sly streak of humor might run through the film, but make no mistake: when Mc Carthy is ready to scare you, the hairs on the back of your neck don’t stand a chance.

4. MadS (dir. David Moreau)

Outbreak horror, done well, will forever hit a little differently in this post-pandemic age. And in David Moreau’s MadS, it’s done very well indeed. A one-shot descent into madness and white-knuckled terror, the film opens on birthday boy Romain (Milton Riche) as he prepares for a night of partying, has a disturbing run-in with a woman on the road, gets infected, and proceeds to pass the infection on. While there are shades of other outbreak and zombie movies here, MadS is singular in its relentless energy. And the eyes. My god, the eyes.

3. The Substance (dir. Coralie Fargeat)

It didn’t change my life, but Coralie Fargeat’s sophomore feature The Substance did leave me clapping like a seal by the time the credits rolled. You already know what it’s about: aging star Elisabeth (Demi Moore) opts to take a mysterious drug that produces a younger, more perfect version of herself, who she names Sue (Margaret Qualley). The only catch? You’ve got to respect the balance—one week in one body, one week in the other. And Sue doesn’t respect the balance. Not one bit. Pairing on-the-nose satire with over-the-top body horror that would make David Cronenberg proud, The Substance is a gory good time with perhaps the most audacious ending of the year. Certainly the most disgusting shrimp-eating scene.

2. Strange Darling (dir. JT Mollner)

Actor Kyle Gallner cements his scream king status with Strange Darling, a movie he seemed to be single-handedly responsible for marketing. And it’s a good job someone was talking about it, because Strange Darling is a wild ride that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the bloody end. Shot on 35mm film (as it takes pains to tell you) and told out of order, JT Mollner’s cat-and-mouse tale follows an unnamed woman (a phenomenal Willa Fitzgerald) who meets a man (Gallner) and goes to a motel room with him for a night of kinky sex. To say much more than that would be to spoil one of 2024’s best surprises.

1. I Saw the TV Glow (dir. Jane Schoenbrun)

I was at a party a few weeks ago with a middle-aged woman who told me that I Saw the TV Glow opened her eyes to the possibilities of how many stories are still left to be told. Jane Schoenbrun’s hypnotizing exploration of loneliness, dysphoria, and finding comfort in media doesn’t hold viewers’ hands—a close friend had to text me to explain it to her—but it does offer a thoughtful window into the experience of a closeted trans youth for those willing to stare into the static until they see the picture form. Brigette Lundy-Paine’s gripping speech at the heart of the film is a standout, but it’s Justice Smith’s tragically vulnerable performance as a lost and alienated teen that ensures I Saw the TV Glow burns bright in the mind long after the set has been switched off.