20. to 17. Ice and Quiet to Disquieting Skies

17. Take Shelter  

Okay, another movie many would not classify as horror, but for me, what is more horrifying than having to choose between accepting your mental health is slowly disintegrating and acknowledging the possibility the world might be approaching apocalypse? Add to that an incredible performance by Michael Shannon, more than ably supported by the lovely Jessica Chastain, an eerie and haunting score, and atmosphere to spare—loveliness, loneliness, and dread braiding like the skeins of birds that dance in these bleak midwestern skies—and I've just talked myself into watching it again. These are ordinary blue collar people we can relate to, an important aspect of why this film is so effective. For that and more, Jeff Nichols is someone else to keep an eye on; his direction lends this film a powerful sense of quiet unease worthy of Lynch while splicing it seamlessly with a Malick-like lyricism. Given my own tastes, and everything mentioned above, that combination is damn near unassailable. I'm already regretting having this too low on my list.

18. Kill List  

Ah, England again. Ben Wheatley: watch out for him. There's little I can say that won't spoil it, so yeah, just find this gem and watch it. Unflinching is a word that leaps to mind. Unpredictable, too. Really, like many films on my list it's a hybrid—a pagan horror mystery thriller road movie. Yeah, just watch it. Be warned, though: it doesn't pull its punches. Thoughtfully brutal. 

19. Alien  

In light of my last choice, highly predictable, no doubt. But still. Pretty much everything I said about The Thing applies equally here. If anything, it's even more claustrophobic, has a slightly more iconic gross-out moment, asks questions about artificial intelligence many straightforward sci-fi films often flub, and there's a little more Yin to The Thing's Yang. As in Sigourney. Yes, it's hardly original of me, but I compare the two films in the darkened movie theatre of my head often enough for it to be unhealthy, and I love them both, and perhaps because it came first I rate Alien a tiny notch higher. As great as the XY ensemble in a whiteout was, the extra X in a black void just edges it. Oh, did I forget to tell you how goddamn terrifying it is? In space, no one... etc. 

20. The Thing  

John Carpenter's version, from 1982. Once again, the borders are blurry, but whether this is sci-fi, horror, or horror/sci-fi doesn't really matter when you sit down to watch it and realise far too late you're trapped in scary-as-hell world, except it's not hell, unless hell froze over, because this is Antarctica and your choice is: stay and fight (or hide from) whatever appallingly wrong thing has invaded your camp and taken over your friends' bodies or walk out into the ice and die. This film is relentless. And beyond the relentlessness, there's a purity, too. Just watch the clip. It's an incredible opening scene. Gorgeous, expansive, somehow lonely. But after this, everything closes in and becomes chillingly, hermetically sealed. (Highest resolution and full screen recommended.)

24. to 21. Faux Real to Surreal

21. Eraserhead  

More Lynch and perhaps more obviously horror than the last entry. But also surreal, not to mention darkly and disturbingly sexually repressed. Actually, there is no other film quite like Eraserhead, which is perhaps a mercy. Bleak, industrial, helpless, it depicts our forced (or chosen?) passivity in a world that wants to grind us into nothing. Well, okay, that's just one interpretation. Others centre on the fears new parents try desperately to suppress of their diseased, deformed, unviable, unenviable progeny. Low level industrial sounds vie throughout with the constant and often maddening mewling of the pitiful offspring who lies wrapped and helpless within what appear to be filthy, infected bandages that could only hasten its end. Basically, it's an unnerving, extended nightmare—in the words of one critic: "human reproduction as a desolate freak show." 

22. Inland Empire  

Wait, you say, Lynch? Really? Yes, to me, David Keith Lynch is one of our leading horror directors. He is the master of nameless dread, of the ostensibly mundane looming suddenly beyond terrifying. Now, I love Lynch, and though I still think this film is bloated and even self-indulgent in places, and could certainly use a diet (hey, anyone else notice how diet and edit are anagrams?), its moments of pure, inarticulate fear are peerless and shocking. Nightmarish in every sense. Existential sitcoms in which the characters are large, anthropomorphized rabbits. Laura Dern, a woman in trouble. Harrowing and sad Hollywood street scenes featuring embedded screwdrivers and discussions about bus schedules. Plus, anyway, how often have you been able to enjoy a roomful of extremely ordinary and likeable hookers dancing to "The Locomotion"? Okay, don't answer that. 

23. À l'intérieur (Inside)  

Wow. I mentioned French extreme stuff earlier, and this is a perfect example. Brutal violence and genuine terror done with style. Seriously, this (ostensibly) home invasion film is gory as hell and is steeped in Cronenbergian body-horror, taking home invasion to its logical and dismayingly intimate conclusions. It's truly relentless and please, non-horror fans, all the warnings you'd expect apply to this one, even the trailer. Gruesome and beautiful and there seems to be an ever-present femininity to these French films that's often lacking elsewhere in the genre—not necessarily feminist, but certainly not content to bring suffering upon womankind without some kind of an accounting. Plus, Béatrice Dalle. I repeat: Béatrice Dalle.

24. The Blair Witch Project  

Another divisive film. Some feel it wasn't even particularly scary, but I disagree. The low-key slow-build to one of the creepiest endings in any film ever was worth it for me (I still shudder when I think of it, as it reminds me of actual nightmares I've had, so this shit's personal, yo). Yes, even the annoying, leaky-nostriled Heather character was kind of essential to how all the various strands led to that one urban legend shocker of a moment. Besides, Blair Witch reignited the whole "found footage" concept that had burst into life with the infamous Cannibal Holocaust twenty years earlier, only to go oddly underexploited ever since. In a world filled to the brim with the likes of Paranormal Activity, Cloverfield, V/H/S, etc, that's hard to believe. But it's true, I tells ya.

If you're one of those rare types who haven't seen it (I feel you. I watched Titanic for the first time ten years after all the hype had died down and it was a'ight), don't even dream of watching this clip. 

28. to 25. Flapping Jaws to Buzzing Saws

25. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre 

Ha, I can feel the hardcore horror fans starting to lighten up a little now (while mainstream fans balk). Just you wait. ;) But yeah, Tobe Hooper's low budget slasher film was a benchmark of massive proportions. As with Psycho, it was inspired by the repulsive exploits of real-life killer Ed Gein, although it took that inspiration in a whole different direction, but another predecessor deserving of a nod would be Deliverance, made just two years earlier. And since, there have been hundreds of TCM wannabes, most of them pale shadows. There's a scene where Leatherface slams shut a sliding steel door that still gives me inexplicable nightmares. And it's odd: the reputation of this film doesn't prepare you for its reality. It's not particularly gory, for one thing—plenty of smart misdirection and suggestion precludes the need for it. It's just kind of insane, creepy, and frightening. (And yes, I know the image is from one of a kazillion remakes, but I like its feel; for me it captures some of the dread of the original, and I like minimalist road shots. Whatever.)

26. Se7en  

Ditto. You could flip this and the last entry around. Both are doing a very similar thing: demonstrating the bleak, nihilistic heart at the centre of the police procedural/ forensic psychology subgenre (without these films, we may never have arrived at a CSI, a Dexter, or now, of course, a Hannibal). Crime, horror? The distinction melts away, along with any sense of justice, redemption or hope, with the now-infamous ending. But before we even get there, we've tripped over a series of gruesomely tormented corpses and witnessed some of the worst things humans are capable of. This is some dark and frankly terrifying shit. Casting and performances, as with the previous entry, were nigh on perfect.

27. The Silence of the Lambs  

This is the point where people get upset with me and say Silence is not a horror film. Well, its my list, dammit, and you can go make your own (aw, sounds meaner than I meant it to), and if you think this is a stretch, wait till you see what I have even higher up the list! But I say if this isn't horror, then what is? It's not just Lecter and his taste for both intrigue and human flesh, it's Clarice's courageous yet aching vulnerability throughout, it's the liberal use of real life serial killer awfulness to "flesh out" the backstory, it's creepy as hell from start to finish and finally, how can a movie featuring a man who is trying to fashion a woman suit from the skin of his victims not be deemed a horror film? Every bit as sharp as Thomas Harris's source material with an added feminist sensibility. A film balanced perfectly on its moment in time.

28. Night of the Living Dead  

Without Romero's classic film, we almost certainly wouldn't have had the relentless zombie mania of the last few years. And it always makes me smile that such a bleak, violent, and even subversive film made its debut between the so-called Summer of Love and Woodstock. Ha. Schizophrenic much, America? But like the Body Snatcher movies, Living Dead was read by more thoughtful critics as social commentary, in this case critiquing anything from the '60s counterculture, Vietnam and the Cold War, to American racism. And in terms of its reception, the critical arc went from "junk film" to the Library of Congress adding it to its National Film Registry. (This trailer is funny, yet the film really isn't.)

32. to 29. Carnies to Barbies

29. Wolf Creek 

The Aussies are coming. And then some. This film takes its sweet yet never boring time building backstory and character so we truly care about these young British and Australian backpackers, before unleashing a "based on a true story" demented Crocodile Dundee character with the innocuous name of Mick Taylor. And yeah, we're plunged into a nocturnal outback world of pure awfulness we hope is over sooner rather than later, for the sake of the innocent and undeserving young folks stalked by this revolting yet gleeful human monster. If you can stomach it, it's a brilliant, sickening, relentless horror film, period.

30. [REC] 

The great thing about the current state of horror in film is the truly global aspect of it. On my short list alone are French, Swedish, British, American, Australian, Finnish, Japanese, Canadian, South Korean, Dutch and, here, Spanish offerings, all bringing something new to the genre. Nerve jangling, claustrophobic, and pretty much plain terrifying, you're off balance throughout, with the film seeming to posit numerous scenarios (zombies, demons?) behind a strange and gruesome outbreak among the residents of a quarantined apartment block. Oh, and yeah, it's frightening.

31. The Wicker Man

Unlike anything else, this British film from 1973 was dated from the moment it was released, which doesn't matter, since it was self-contained and creepy-strange beyond belief from the get go. A unique clash between paganism and Christianity, liberal sexuality and puritanism, prurience and piety, bacchanalia and Presbyterianism, the rampant and the reproachful, the sensual and the censorious, all of its no-doubt predictable struggles play out against the foment of the times in which it was conceived, and yet the final and—oh god(s) help us—lasting impression is one of bleak, stark, inexorable, human-centric horror. Hence its inclusion here.

32. Carnival of Souls

The early '60s was a fertile period for new takes on horror. For one thing, I was born. Okay, kidding. Ha! But yeah, Hitchcock was working his special alchemy alongside a few others whose careers were—sadly and quite frankly, stupidly—not exactly enhanced by their association with the genre (I'm talking about you, Michael Powell!), but the context for this particular gem is difficult to unravel from such a distance. Eerie, creepy, spooky, and haunted are all adjectives that occur, but for me, the feminine sensibility—as depicted by the anxious, blurrily magisterial Candace Hilligoss—is the warm, strange heart of this self-contained and atmospheric wonder. That and a truly disconcerting "something wicked" motif, as painted by the manic, incessant dark carny music. (Pro tip: the full movie is on YouTube.)

36. to 33. Infected to Invaded

33. Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978) 

For me, this (directed by Philip Kaufman) is the most horrific version of the classic story. Most would argue it's science fiction, but I'd still advocate for its inclusion within the definition of horror I'm running with here. Not only for its squish factor (those pods!) but ultimately for that scene, what I think of as the "Sutherland howl." I won't bother with the in-depth allegorical stuff here, but read up on how this story has been interpreted over the years, it's fascinating. (*Spoiler* Do not watch this clip if you plan on seeing the whole film.)

34. Sauna 

Also known as Filth or Evil Rising. A gorgeously stark Finnish film about the aftermath of a war and the attendant moral degeneration. Despite the awfulness of wartime acts, can we yet find redemption? This movie is relatively unknown and unseen, but its grim atmosphere, lack of supernatural cop-outs (mostly), overall contemplative tone punctuated by truly frightening moments, strong performances (Ville Virtanen is outstanding), and bleak-as-hell's-basement visuals make this a surprise late entry in some ways. Albeit a good surprise.

35. Hostel 2 

For a while there, it became fashionable to turn up critical noses at so-called "torture porn." Honestly, I think that's a cop-out. Horror is meant to horrify. It's supposed to take us out of our so-called comfort zones and shine a light on things that were once hidden yet now increasingly hide in plain sight. That's why they're scary. The word "gratuitous" should never even enter the equation; you can't be half a horror fan. So, Hostel was good. But Hostel 2 was better still. Cruel and bloody, sure, often excruciatingly so, but it asked uncomfortable questions about our world in which a tiny minority retain power and privilege and often act appallingly with apparent impunity. 

36. 28 Days Later 

Don't get me wrong, I love zombie and apocalyptic films. Dystopian narratives are my lifeblood. But it's so rare anyone gets it completely right. Director Danny Boyle made the attempt here, and I think he hit the ruined nail on its rusting head, not because the infected could move fast (boring argument, move on), but because he concentrated on the human connections and feelings, and evoked the sheer moodiness of an eerie England slowly abandoned by the authorities. In other words, one of my favourite dystopian films (Alfonso Cuarón's brilliant Children of Men) could not have been made without this.