My favourite time of year (and my favourite holiday) is upon us once again.
It is time to creatively carve pumpkins, distribute an obscene amount of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups to evening guests who arrive knocking, and discover what great horror movies greet us from our wonderful streaming services.
‘Tis the season, my friends!
Ever since I could barely walk, horror has been my long-standing favourite genre, far above them all.
I was raised on the streets. Yes, I am being honest. The Nightmare on Elm Street series was as much a core part of my childhood as Santa Claus, Hulk Hogan and Reading Rainbow.
I would ask my parents to buy me Five Star notebooks in elementary school so I could draw the Cenobites from Hellraiser (as well as the flying chrome orbs from Phantasm II) all day long and proudly carry the art with me everywhere.
My elementary school friends and I would collect full sets of Monster in My Pocket toys while I tried to claim Jeff Rovin’s Encyclopedia of Monsters from the International Falls public library (while late fees stacked up like in the Mr. Bookman episode of Seinfeld).
When autumn arrived, it was time to invest in multiple boxes of Boo Berry, Count Chocula, and Franken Berry cereal (not to forget the discontinued Fruit Brute and Fruity Yummy Mummy) to make it a legacy on par with Animal House.
Childhood was defined by collecting the Time-Life Mysteries of the Unknown book series and using Ghostbusters action figures (as well as the King of Cartoons from Pee-wee’s Playhouse…he sort of looked like Dracula) to act out the movie The Monster Squad with childhood friends Lisa, Teresa, and Travis from our trailer park.
Weeknights welcomed Unsolved Mysteries, The Extraordinary (from Australia), and Sightings then.
Celebrity Ghost Stories, The Haunting Of…, and Haunted on Netflix now.
Tales from the Crypt and The Twilight Zone always had a presence in my home growing up (even to the point that a cardboard promotional cutout of the Cryptkeeper in a director’s chair sat in the corner of my bedroom).
Hellraiser movie series collector’s cards in my pockets.
Fangoria magazine in my homeroom desk.
Every three days, the genre would fulfill the 3-Day, 3-Movies, 3-Dollar promotional special from Top Tan Video.
Making peace with shadow
I love (and always have loved) horror.
Believe it or not, I have always found comfort in the paranormal, the supernatural, and hauntings.
I always found peace in it.
What terrified others are the very things that made me feel safe.
Somewhere along the line (at a very early age), I made peace with the dark just as I did with the light.
Moving around a bit led to occasional changes in friend groups—so rather than understanding them as the unspoken or the chilling, I thought of ghosts and spirits as friends.
To tell you the truth, there are many stories from growing up that I can’t even begin to explain. Relatives were spooked, but I always sat back with a comforting grin.
Horror: More than what it seems
If one looks beyond the chilling shell or gore, horror presents many creative (and, at times, subversive) questions about human nature, the hereafter, and what (or with whom) we could possibly be sharing our world.
The creative and storytelling dimensions are often second to none. When Wes Craven created the Freddy Krueger character, he developed a villain who personified three common fears (animal attacks via the glove, burn trauma via his scars, and stranger danger by means of his hat). His red and green sweater was selected after Craven read in a book on optical illusions that red and green are two intensely difficult colours for the human eye to focus on together. Elm Street (which lends itself to commonplace Americana) was also infamous because of its association with the Dealey Plaza tragedy.
Many of Stephen King’s books (and film adaptations) propose that there are often unseen costs to popular wishes coming true, expressed best in Pet Sematary and Needful Things.
The original Candyman, full of poetics and class beneath the jagged rust, presents belief in a being as an act that can conjure it into existence.
Midsommar and the original The Wicker Man reveal how belief itself can be lethal.
Dark reflections
When there is a mirror, both the shades of dark and the highlights of light are reflected back.
Reflection—this is precisely the cleverness of the horror genre.
The fears and anxieties of any age and era are reflected back by horror literature and film.
During a time of massive reservations about atomic energy following the Second World War, film produced giant monsters created by radiation.
During a time of increasing televised violence as the Vietnam War raged, film became a means of supporting peace by showing the very nature of violence.
Following the chaos of the September 11 attacks (when many feared danger could come from anywhere in ravenous form), zombies began to sprint, run, and overwhelm.
Today, in an era when a focus on mental health and emotional turbulence seems to define our times, films like Obsession take these themes to extremes.
The fears, concerns, and anxieties of any age have found their reflections within film and literature.
Why do we love it?
The love of this genre is purposefully expressed in this writing, and I hope it is conveyed.
When horror is done right (not gore or jump scares for their own sake, but when the poetics, reflections, archetypes, and symbolism become clear), it can be art.
For us fans, it is similar to riding a roller coaster, taking a bungee jump, or doing a nu-metal stage dive, where fear, thrill, and adrenaline can manifest within controlled and safe conditions.
In a very real way, one can wrestle with fears and anxieties from any corner, make it through, smile, and do it all while indulging in popcorn.
There are a ton of great horror films that today’s streaming services make readily available.
A misunderstood art, but art nonetheless.
So here is a toast and tribute to the genre.
May the poetics, the subversion, and the symbolism reflect clear and true.
In the meantime:
Am I haunted?
Yes.
Gloriously.
Peacefully.
Lovingly haunted, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Robert Horton is an educator, author, orator and linguist. He is a member of Rainy River First Nations.
Five horror movies to bring the scary to your Halloween
Candyman (1992)
Graduate student Helen Lyle explores the Cabrini-Green area of Chicago while writing her thesis on a historic tragedy which has now returned, similar to the story of Bloody Mary in the mirror, but far spookier.
Talk to Me (2022)
A group of friends begin to conjure spirits at a party game, but breaking the wall between worlds comes at a higher cost than they expect.
Midsommar (2019)
A group of students travel to Sweden to experience culture and tradition until they realize where culture and tradition can lead without scrutiny. It is art-directed and beautifully shot, but the movie lingers well after its closing.
Obsession (2025)
Following the story of a young man named Bear who makes a wish on a One Wish Willow. The love spell that steals his love interest’s free will and agency has unexpected consequences from the spirit world.
The Serpent and the Rainbow (1988)
Based upon the written account of a Harvard ethnobotanist, a wandering traveller into the world of voodoo practitioners in Haiti suddenly becomes much more than anyone expected.
Amazing documentaries about horror cinema
Eli Roth’s History of Horror
Behind the Monsters
Cursed Films
Bravo’s 100 Scariest Movie Moments
Netflix: Haunted
Shudder’s 101 Scariest Horror Movie Moments of All Time
Shudder’s Horror’s Greatest
Chiller 13: The Decade’s Scariest Movie Moments
Never Sleep Again: The Elm Street Legacy
Cinemassacre’s Monster Madness
