The politics of horror movies

2026 has seen a renewed interest in horror filmmaking. From the surprise box office dominance of Kane Parsons’ “Backrooms” to Zach Cregger continuing to establish himself with “Resident Evil,” horror movies are more prominent now than they have been in a long time.

As Halloween approaches, horror movies have once again dominated the conversation. But whether you’re watching a contemporary entry like “Backrooms” or a classic like “Friday the 13th,” one thing is certain.

The genre is just now getting the credit it deserves.

Much of the conversation surrounding horror movies is reductive. People often reduce them to their most basic plot points, praising them for whether they build suspense or whether the monster kills characters in a cool enough way.

But horror movies, and horror stories in general, have always had more to say.

The original “Nosferatu,” one of the genre’s earliest iconic iterations, comments on xenophobia and anti-Semitism. “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre” shows how the government has left rural areas behind. All of these far predate our modern understanding of what a horror movie can be.

In many ways, it took the arrival of Jordan Peele for general audiences to see horror films not just as adrenaline rushes, but as commentary. “Get Out” is probably his most acclaimed film, and its conspicuous commentary on American racial tensions opened many eyes.

Since then, many filmmakers have entered the horror space to make their own commentary. “Hereditary” tackled generational trauma. “Talk to Me” examined the dangers of virality chasing. “Sinners” spotlighted forced assimilation through art.

But the perception of horror movies as solely shock value isn’t without its merit.

As their respective series went on, both “Friday the 13th” and “Nightmare on Elm Street” became increasingly reductive and increasingly misogynistic. Misogyny in horror is itself a widespread issue. The “Saw” franchise, along with the “Child’s Play” franchise and countless other one-off movies, turns violence against women into nothing more than a spectacle.

That’s part of what made “Obsession” stand out.

Curry Barker’s debut feature is one of the biggest indie success stories of all time, made all the more poignant by reaching farther into the idea of a horror villain than most genre films do.

The commentary within the film is clearly one of consent and assault, and how predatory men often are with women who trust them. But on a meta level, the film is also a deconstruction of the horror trope that encourages violence against women. 

“Obsession,” like its character Nikki, feels like an unwilling participant in the genre’s tropes, creating layered discussion about the characters within and the artists beyond.

All art is political. A movie trying to evade politics often ends up stumbling onto the wrong side of it. Many horror movies have done that. 

To avoid this mistake, follow Kyle Edward Ball’s lead.

Ball’s debut feature film, “Skinamarink,” has no overt political or social commentary, largely because of its loose narrative.

But it’s not exempt from that either, and Ball knows it.

As a member of the queer community, Ball has discussed how stories can still be deeply personal without overt themes of queerness. From that lens, the haunting, quiet loneliness of “Skinamarink” reads like a souped-up portrayal of a child’s isolation as they try to figure out who they are in a hostile world. 

Every horror movie has something to say. The message might not be overt or even intentional, but art is in the eye of the beholder.

A horror renaissance seems to be upon us, but the movies themselves always had something to say.

We just had to open our eyes.