2025 Horror Movies Wrap-Up

an extremely belated post, but it took awhile to get this blog up and running, so what are you gonna do? Anyway, Schafrillas posted his top 20 movies from 2025 in late Feb 2026, so I’m really not *that* behind.

In a bit of a surprise, I got very into horror movies in the second half of 2025. While I had occasionally dabbled in the genre in the past, all of the real-world horrors of last year started to get to me. And what better way to engage with and feel those real anxieties than through watching horror movies? That’s not real anxiety and dread, I’m just afraid of whatever is lurking around the corner in this movie!

Because of all the horror movies I watched in 2025 (no, still haven’t seen Weapons), I decided to reflect on the top (and bottom) horror movies that I watched last year. We’ll start with my least favorites.

2025 Horror Movies Loser Bracket

3. Turn of the Screw, 2009

I’ve never read the original Turn of the Screw, nor seen any adaptations aside from this one, so I don’t know how book-(in)accurate this adaptation is (I suspect it’s quite a departure). I couldn’t even say I was familiar with the plot prior to watching this film.

Turn of the Screw (2009) is a poorly written movie, with some plot elements that were sloppy choices that could have been better handled or flat-out omitted. I will also note that my own dislike of this movie may have been exacerbated by the ways it triggered my OCD, so I am not an entirely bias-free judge. But regardless, I didn’t enjoy this movie and was shocked by it in rather un-fun and repulsive ways. What, exactly, is this movie trying to say?

In addition, from my understanding, part of the intrigue of the book is the lingering question of whether or not the governess is telling the truth and really did see ghosts; it’s an open-ended question that hangs in the air long after the book is closed (ie, a good horror ending that makes you feel unsettled with the mystery for the rest of the night). This movie, however, gives a firm answer that yes, she did see malevolent ghosts. Her account isn’t thrown into question for the viewer, but is instead accepted as fact.

This is not the period horror movie I craved after watching and thoroughly enjoying The Woman in Black. This also makes me want to avoid any horror movies where children are largely involved, which cuts out a lot of new and classic horror stories.

2. Nosferatu (2024)

In the height of my short-term Nosferatu obsession in the autumn, I watched the original movie along with a number of adaptations, including the latest adaptation: critically acclaimed, widely beloved and praised, star-studded cast, etc. But instead of enjoying it or finding that it reveals new depth or meaning to the tale of Count Orlok, it was instead the nail in the coffin (or perhaps better said as the consecrated bread laid upon unholy burial soil) to my interest in Nosferatu, at least for a time.

I will preface this by saying that in general/other adaptations, I really like the character of Ellen, and I think she’s interesting, particularly when juxtaposed with Mina, her Dracula counterpart (the original 1922 Nosferatu is, after all, an unauthorized adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula). Ellen is gentle, a bit of a homebody, potentially connected to supernatural forces or ways of knowing. Mina, on the other hand, is a modern woman exploring new technologies and taking more action. One is the direct victim of the vampire (always his target), and the other first watches her (girl)friend succumb before villainous sights are set on her. (Note that I am here comparing Nosferatu with the book Dracula, and not to the 1990s movie Dracula, in which Mina is in fact the primary target).

I bring up Ellen because I think she’s seriously (ridiculously) misrepresented in the 2024 Nosferatu. I really like Ellen in the 1979 Nosferatu (who is, perhaps somewhat confusingly, called Lucy and not Mina), who in my eyes has a lot more agency than her other Ellen-ish counterparts in other adaptations. 1979 is in no way perfect, and I remain…unconvinced by the ending. But I like that Ellen tries to make people listen to her concerns and, when unheard, takes it upon herself to do something about the encroaching plague and its originator. She is meek and a homebody who develops her own agency and courageously takes action.

2024’s Ellen, however, is the victim of some kind of sex demon/spirit that possesses her whenever her husband is away ☹️ Everyone makes choices for her and determines what she needs, and she’s desperate for the saving presence of her husband (until they engage in aggressive, angry, goaded/manipulative/maybe non-consensual sex—which is when I finally stopped watching). Ellen doesn’t exist aside from when her husband is with her. She’s supernaturally connected to this thing that controls her, and that’s all she is. I really don’t know how else to convey how disappointed I was in this portrayal that strips her completely of any agency. Ellen not being pure and innocent is, I think, a fine approach that could be interesting if done right. 2023 Nosferatu’s Jonathan is wayward and adulterous, and I think that’s an interesting take that could be applied to Ellen—she’s conflicted while her husband is away, tempted by her new surroundings. Maybe she’s a lesbian or has some bisexual feelings awakened. But possessed by a sex demon? C’mon.

Also, they cut my favorite scene from this adaptation (Orlok awkwardly carrying his coffin through Wisburg in the dark of night), and that’s an automatic Boo from me.

What else do I say about this movie? It’s ridiculous and over-the-top, and it’s a bad adaptation of Nosferatu, particularly once we leave Count Orlok’s castle (it was so good up until we got more into Ellen’s story—Orlok in the castle is terrifying, and those scenes are so well made, but the rest of the movie fumbles all that).

1. The Shade (2023)

The Shade is a slow-burn horror with elements of family drama, and it examines the ways mental illness can alienate people and, when untreated, can cause someone to lash out and self-isolate as they descend deeper into a spiral. It’s realistic and raw, and even tho the protagonist is not entirely likeable and makes some bad (interpersonal) decisions, I could still relate and understand what was happening—if particularly unwell or not treating/addressing my own mental illness, I could see myself slipping down a similar path. This movie ratchets real struggles with anxiety and depression up to an eleven, but at its core, I think the storytellers intimately understand what these things feel like day-to-day and when left untreated.

That combines with a horror entity that is terrifying because it’s sometimes just there, a face peering from the closet, a form slipping behind a mattress. No jump-scares, just eerie glances and too-long looks. You begin to wonder if this thing is real or a figment of an anxious and ill mind.

I was there, terrified (feeling certain I’d have nightmares) and tracking with the story, pulled into the metaphors of anxiety and mental illness.

And then, I shit you not, the final 15 seconds ruined the entire movie. Absolutely the worst ending of something I’ve seen, at the very least in a long time. Made the entire experience flip from chilling and haunting to hilariously awkward and disappointing. The ending also provides no interesting answers or even half-answers to questions raised throughout the movie.

I think a good horror movie can end with some answers but questions and mysteries still linger (think season 1 of Stranger Things—there’s a conclusion, but also that sense of dread remains deep in the pit of your stomach). Instead, here, we get no answers (for example, the cloaked figures melting from the shadows in an excellent opening scene don’t come up in the entire second half of the movie), too many unresolved elements, and a final scene that so horribly bungled the movie that I feel disappointed and frustrated and embarrassed and a bit disgusted every time I think of this movie and its erstwhile-creepy monster.

2025 Top 3 Horror Films I Watched

Honorable Mention: Frankenstein (2025)

A visual feast and an absolutely stunning adaptation, Guillermo del Toro’s Frankenstein is certainly worth the acclaim it’s garnered since its premiere. I hold a special place in my heart for the book Frankenstein, as it had a major influence on me in high school when I first read it. Going into this film, I was nervous that it would be a sloppy, melodramatic adaptation that loses the plot (cough like another classic monster movie adaptation I saw in 2025 cough cough), but I was stunned—to the point of sitting silent as the credits rolled—by how well-made this movie is.

Del Toro, and the entire cast and crew, seem to have a deep understanding of and perhaps even reverence for the source work. There’s a high degree of intentionality and care here, a surgical precision evident in the character designs and the sets, and in the ways they made changes to setting, plot, and characters to tell a story that honors and reimagines the original.

But why only an honorable mention here? Because as much as I loved this movie, and as much as I have been enriched and dazzled by the conversations about and around the movie, I don’t think it’s quite lingered with me the way some other horror movies have this year; some of them have stuck with me for weeks or even months after my initial viewing. And while I loved Frankenstein, it didn’t quite have that level of lasting, haunting potency that some other films had on me. But this is not a bad thing! It made an impression on me, certainly, undeniably, but I have chosen to highlight it here as an honorable mention.

Honorable Mention: The Woman in Black (2012)

I felt almost instantly drawn into this movie, particularly its setting: a period drama unfolding in a remote, dilapidated mansion that is physically isolated from the rest of the world, the way the main character is metaphorically isolated following the death of his wife. It’s sort of a spiritual sibling of Crimson Peak (I love you, I hate you) and is a touching and tragic ghost story with an ending I feel conflicted about (and a bit haunted by). It’s compelling, atmospheric, and eerie, and it left me craving similar period horror movies (woe that I watched the sequel, which drags this movie through the thick, churning mud!).

And now for the moment you've been reading for: My top three horror movies of 2025!

3. Heretic (2024)

Something I’ve noticed among ex-evangelicals is that some of them leave behind the specific religious principles but not the psychological state of “I must win every argument, hit you over the head with my mental prowess, and exert my will over you to prove that your view is not only wrong, but also stupid.” Yes, folks, I’m referencing the notorious Militant Atheist, an aggressively anti-religious figure who has never done a mote of self-reflection since leaving a high-demand religion—and a figure who is cunningly, deliciously portrayed by Hugh Grant in the movie Heretic.

So often in horror, our protagonist(s) encounter a religious cult with strange rituals, concerning teachings, and a charismatic leader (whether or not supernatural elements also seep into the world). However, from my exposure to horror (still very little at this point), there are fewer horror stories that build fear around the anti-cultist, the lone individual who sets out to recruit people not to their cult, but to their lack of a cult: untethered individualism, convoluted rationalism, and militant rejection of a sense of higher power, be it god or beauty, nature or love.

As a former fundamentalist, I felt hesitant going into this movie because I knew the protagonists were themselves fundamentalists; I was concerned it would end up a saccharine pro-god movie, like some kind of weird Christian horror that ends in Jesus (or, in this case, Joseph Smith) descending from the clouds to save the day. But instead, this movie is a really interesting and thoughtful examination of religion, faith, belief, and personal choice. It’s an intellectual thriller (is that a thing?) as much as horror. And one that I could honestly see myself rewatching in a year or two because of the reflection it prompts, the questions it asks.

2. Death of a Unicorn (2025)

I expected very little of this movie going into it. I don’t care a ton for Jenna Ortega, I think in part because Netflix’s show Wednesday has been so severely mishandled (which is not Ortega’s fault, but I still, unfortunately, associate her with it). I also have similar feelings toward Paul Rudd. The marketing looked lacklustre and uninteresting, with bland characters and a story that did not sparkle with magic but instead oozed a standoffish cynicism.

But I need more people to watch this movie, because not only is it timely, it’s incredibly fun and hilarious and cathartic. I really can’t go into more detail without spoiling some of said fun.

I also really enjoyed that this is a dark comedy I can understand. So often, dark comedy is full of a subtle humor, often satire, that I don’t catch. I tend to take media at face-value, very literally, and don’t always see or understand when there are satirical elements. This makes dark comedy difficult, because I take it too seriously and approach it too genuinely (even when I know it’s a satire!). But this movie is a different kind of dark comedy that is not subtle and had me pausing to cackle multiple times while watching.

1. Opus (2025)

Of all the horror movies I’ve watched this year (14, ish), this one has stuck with me the most. The ending is particularly poignant and is something I frequently ponder in our current age of christo-fascism. But, in addition to that, I love the atmosphere and setting and overall story. Opus is eerie and unsettling, and it has that classic horror devolution that I have historically struggled with, but I think the pacing here is spot-on (the slipping of reality into horror doesn’t feel as sudden or jarring as some other horror movies, but that’s not to say that there are not jarring moments in this film).

I love the acting, too, particularly Ayo Edebiri. She, in particular, has such a raw and realistic way of conveying a character that feels accurate to real life, with stammers and awkwardness, pauses and uncertainty. She was perfectly cast for the role.

The rest of my review contains heavy spoilers, but for those who haven’t seen Opus yet and want something spoiler-free: This movie poses a question that haunts me and sets a standard for horror movie endings that make many, many other horror movies feel cheap and awkward in comparison.

And now: a spoiler-filled reflection on Opus:

By the end of the movie, we’re presented with the age-old question of “How do you put the genie back in the bottle?”, except it’s about a cult: “How do you put a cult’s influence and ideology in the grave when its adherents are still alive and evangelizing?” I keep returning to this question because it feels so incredibly applicable to the current extremist state of evangelicalism in the US and the way fascist policies seem to be ratcheting up across the globe. Christians will (probably) always exist, but will extremist fundamentalist christians always exist? They have numbers, they’re well-organized (meeting at least once and often twice or more a week, with strict community hierarchies), they hold political and social positions of power and influence and control, and they have demonstrated, time and again, on both an individual/person-by-person and organizational level, that they are entirely unwilling to consider any perspective beyond their own.

When I read an article about Moody Bible Institute suing Chicago Public Schools over claims of religious discrimination, or about another new transphobic law or policy that specifically targets trans women, or even just see a car with a Trump flag, an anti-abortion bumper sticker, a Jesus fish, I wonder again and again: How do we get through this? How do we dismantle oppressive regimes that are baked into the system and reinforced every single day?

And I think that’s the horror of Opus; it’s been compared to The Menu (which is less horror, more thriller), but The Menu is about personal obsession, class divides, and grappling with the loss of passion for art and creation. Opus, on the other hand, is about obsession with a person, the desires for fame and power, and the ways insidious ideology can spread—the power of the word rather than the power of the passion and the taste. Because after all, nothing markets something better than talking about it, and the more you talk and share about something, the more awareness of it grows, for better or worse.

The Menu, while a strong movie in its own right, doesn’t hit the potency of the cult mindset like Opus does, and the horror of realizing that you have played a part in opening Pandora’s box, of freeing the genie, and that now that those things are loose, they control not just the politicians screaming vitriol from a stage, but they also control your neighbor, your coworker, your parents.