The mistake most marathons make is consistency - same tone, same energy, film after film. Vary the weight. Follow something heavy with something lighter. Let the list breathe.
The 2010s produced a generation of films that refused to be just one thing. Smarter than they needed to be. Better than expected.
Great horror films are never really about the monster. They're about what the monster represents â fear, grief, guilt, the unknown.
A serial killer strikes fear in the hearts of residents of Hamburg during the early 1970s.
A family discovers that dark spirits have invaded their home after their son inexplicably falls into an endless sleep. When they reach out to a professional for help, they learn things are a lot more personal than they thought.
When a fearless enemy out for revenge unleashes a brutal and deadly new virus, BSAA captain Chris Redfield enlists the help of Agent Leon S. Kennedy and Professor Rebecca Chambers to bring down the death merchant and save New York City.
After suspecting that their police officer neighbor is a serial killer, a group of teenage friends spend their summer spying on him and gathering evidence, but as they get closer to discovering the truth, things get dangerous.
A darkness swirls at the center of a world-renowned dance company, one that will engulf the artistic director, an ambitious young dancer, and a grieving psychotherapist. Some will succumb to the nightmare. Others will finally wake up.
These films work because they respect their audience. They don't rush to the scare. They build it, layer it, let it sit â and then they deploy it perfectly.
Columbus, Tallahassee, Wichita, and Little Rock move to the American heartland as they face off against evolved zombies, fellow survivors, and the growing pains of the snarky makeshift family.
U.S. federal agent Leon S. Kennedy sneaks into the "East Slavic Republic" to verify rumors that Bio-Organic Weapons (BOWs) are being used in the country's civil war, which the U.S. and Russia are making preparations to jointly intervene in. Right after his infiltration, the U.S. government orders him to leave immediately. Determined to uncover the truth, Leon ignores the order and enters the battlefield to end the chain of tragedies caused by the BOWs.
During a shootout in a saloon, Sheriff Hunt injures a suspicious stranger. The doctor's assistant, wife of the local foreman, tends to him in prison. That night, the town is attacked and they both disappear-only the arrow of a cannibal tribe is found. Hunt and a few of his men go in search of the prisoner and the foreman's wife.
True-crime writer Ellison Oswalt is in a slump; he hasn't had a best seller in more than 10 years and is becoming increasingly desperate for a hit. So, when he discovers the existence of a snuff film showing the deaths of a family, he vows to solve the mystery. He moves his own family into the victims' home and gets to work. However, when old film footage and other clues hint at the presence of a supernatural force, Ellison learns that living in the house may be fatal.
A good cry isn't weakness - it's release. These films provide it honestly, without manipulation, without cheap sentiment.
These films work not in spite of their darkness but because of what they do with it. Fear, in the right hands, is one of cinema's most honest tools.