#1 ·
So, I’ll give you the quick rundown on what the horror genre looked like over the last decade, shall we? Let's dive in...
The first decade of the 2000s didn't exactly leave a massive mark on cinema history, did it? We barely scraped together four or five films that could actually be called masterpieces in the strictest sense of the word, even if we were drowning in a sea of great movies and a mountain of very good ones.
Look, I’m not saying there hasn't been some good stuff worth watching, because there definitely has been. But if you actually take a second to compare this decade to the ones that came before it, the genre is showing some serious signs of burnout and nothing more than hollow attempts at a comeback. It feels like we're drowning in a sea of endless sequels, cheap remakes, tired adaptations, and constant references that feel less like homage and more like pure parasitism. Why is everything so obsessed with leaning on what worked yesterday? We've got too much staring into the rearview mirror and far too little actual vision for where we're going next...
We haven't seen a single true visionary emerge this decade, someone on the level of Richard Stanley—you know, the guy who burst onto the scene in the early '90s and then basically went underground to make fascinating documentaries after that whole Dr. Moreau fiasco? Sure, we've had a handful of decent contenders trying to claim the throne of horror master, but every single one of them seems to be in such a desperate rush to break their own promises. Take Alexandre Aja, for instance; right after he delivered the brilliant High Tension, he packed his bags for Hollywood just to spend his time churning out remakes. Even his version of The Hills Have Eyes, despite all its flaws, still stands as one of the best horror remakes we've seen in this decade. Then there’s Mirrors, which had its flashes of inspiration and fun, and I'm sure we'll see more of that in his 3-D Piranha (2010). But honestly... is this really where the future of horror is headed?
The man who signed off on the purest, most flawless masterpiece of this decade, Kinji Fukasaku, passed away shortly after, leaving his son to nothing more than a deeply disappointing sequel to Battle Royale. Now, looking at X-Cross Fukasaku’s recent work, I suppose it was watchable enough—a moderately entertaining piece of trash—but is there really anything in there that suggests even a trace of his father’s DNA?
Guillermo Del Toro might be the guy who signs off on a handful of dark fairy tales, but does anyone else feel like his obsession with over-the-top fantasy is starting to backfire? It’s like he’s constantly trying to sugarcoat his recent work with this increasingly heavy, baroque, almost comic-book aesthetic that just ends up diluting any actual sense of dread or genuine terror. Honestly, with him leaning so hard into this stylized spectacle, is he even capable of delivering a true horror masterpiece anymore?
Neil Marshall kicked things off with that fun, popcorn-flick vibe of Dog Soldiers, then leveled up with the absolute claustrophobic masterclass that was The Descent, only to pivot straight into Doomsday—which, let’s be honest, felt like one of those forgettable, mediocre attempts at paying homage to late 70s and early 80s exploitation cinema. Is he totally washed up? Maybe not quite yet, but for now, he feels like just another one-trick pony, much like most of those horror directors who crawled out of the 90s scene, you know, guys like Lucky McKee, Brad Anderson, James Wan, or Ti West...
Sure, Pascal Laugier signed off on an absolutely brutal horror masterpiece with Martyrs, but I can’t help feeling a bit uneasy about his creepy debut, St. Agnes, or the way he seems to be flirting with the allure of Hollywood and that whole Ajin vibe. Is he actually going to become someone significant? Honestly, the only way that happens is if he manages to resist the siren song of the Hollywood machine—if he can actually stick to his own rules instead of selling his soul to some cursed corporate dollar. It’s such a massive shame that those mindless American studio execs couldn't just step aside and let him handle his own Hellraiser remake.
After delivering a film as mentally taxing and visceral as Ginger Snaps, John Fawcett followed it up with The Dark, and then—was it even earned?—he just completely vanished off the radar.
It turns out the horror weekend warriors—those directors who don't spend their entire lives exclusively trapped in the genre—actually end up pulling off much more impressive feats with their one-off ventures, don't they? You look at guys like Bong Joon-ho, Lars von Trier, Alejandro Amenábar, Danny Boyle, Bill Paxton, Edgar Wright, Ruben Fleischer, Bruce LaBruce, Robin Campillo, Tomas Alfredson, and Shinya Tsukamoto, and you have to wonder: why does a single dive into the macabre often yield such massive results compared to the specialists?
The legends of horror aren't exactly popping up everywhere like they used to, are they? They’ve mostly scattered, forgotten by time or just drifting through a sort of semi-senile haze with dulled senses, and when they actually try to bite back at the genre, it’s usually just an embarrassing spectacle for both the directors and their most die-hard fans—though I’m not counting those mindless, uncritical devotees who worship at their altars. This whole crowd of former masters fits the bill perfectly: Carpenter is busy chasing high highs and playing easy games, Hooper has retreated to the direct-to-DVD trenches, and Argento seems lost in a madness of his own making, sinking deeper into pure trash. Then you’ve got De Palma, who basically vanished into action movies, while Cronenberg decided he’d rather be "respectable" than bother showing up for the genre anymore. Larry Cohen occasionally resurfaces with some B or C-list script, but it’s a far cry from the stuff he used to pull off. Old man Romero is still trying to squeeze blood from a stone with his zombie flicks, though the success is drying up fast, and Craven is still desperately hunting for a new Freddy—honestly, out of this entire lot, he’s the only one who looks like he might actually deliver something above average, maybe even something genuinely relevant. I want to believe in a comeback for Carpenter—I really do, considering the man gave us two flawless masterpieces like Halloween and The Thing—but... well, we’ll see what happens this year when The Ward drops.
When looking at the newer names, the only director besides Pascal Laugier that I’d actually put some serious money on is Fabrice du Welz. Sure, his debut, Calvaire, was a bit messy and hit some awkward notes in certain spots, but let's be real—it was a wildly ambitious experiment that didn't just blow up in his face; it actually managed to pull off some genuine quality here and there. Those flashes of brilliance are almost perfectly realized in his latest work, Vinyan, which is truly excellent, so... I’m choosing to believe in his upward trajectory.
As for the veterans, my only safe bet remains Takashi Miike. Even though he doesn't touch horror all that often, every time he even gets within range of the genre, he churns out something totally unique and, at the very least, well above average. Then you have Takashi Shimizu, who really needs to prove he can do something more than just endlessly recycling his nonsensical, fragmented Ju-On; he clearly knows how to craft a creepy scene—you can see it in his low-budget experimental Marebit—but he still has to demonstrate that he can actually tell a cohesive story and use that terror for something higher than just a cheap "jump scare" moment. Meanwhile, Koji Shiraishi has already shown he can terrify us with Noroi and make us sick with Grotesque, so let's just hope he starts using those talents a bit more frequently and, you know, intelligently.
And that’s about it for now. 🙂
The first decade of the 2000s didn't exactly leave a massive mark on cinema history, did it? We barely scraped together four or five films that could actually be called masterpieces in the strictest sense of the word, even if we were drowning in a sea of great movies and a mountain of very good ones.
Look, I’m not saying there hasn't been some good stuff worth watching, because there definitely has been. But if you actually take a second to compare this decade to the ones that came before it, the genre is showing some serious signs of burnout and nothing more than hollow attempts at a comeback. It feels like we're drowning in a sea of endless sequels, cheap remakes, tired adaptations, and constant references that feel less like homage and more like pure parasitism. Why is everything so obsessed with leaning on what worked yesterday? We've got too much staring into the rearview mirror and far too little actual vision for where we're going next...
We haven't seen a single true visionary emerge this decade, someone on the level of Richard Stanley—you know, the guy who burst onto the scene in the early '90s and then basically went underground to make fascinating documentaries after that whole Dr. Moreau fiasco? Sure, we've had a handful of decent contenders trying to claim the throne of horror master, but every single one of them seems to be in such a desperate rush to break their own promises. Take Alexandre Aja, for instance; right after he delivered the brilliant High Tension, he packed his bags for Hollywood just to spend his time churning out remakes. Even his version of The Hills Have Eyes, despite all its flaws, still stands as one of the best horror remakes we've seen in this decade. Then there’s Mirrors, which had its flashes of inspiration and fun, and I'm sure we'll see more of that in his 3-D Piranha (2010). But honestly... is this really where the future of horror is headed?
The man who signed off on the purest, most flawless masterpiece of this decade, Kinji Fukasaku, passed away shortly after, leaving his son to nothing more than a deeply disappointing sequel to Battle Royale. Now, looking at X-Cross Fukasaku’s recent work, I suppose it was watchable enough—a moderately entertaining piece of trash—but is there really anything in there that suggests even a trace of his father’s DNA?
Guillermo Del Toro might be the guy who signs off on a handful of dark fairy tales, but does anyone else feel like his obsession with over-the-top fantasy is starting to backfire? It’s like he’s constantly trying to sugarcoat his recent work with this increasingly heavy, baroque, almost comic-book aesthetic that just ends up diluting any actual sense of dread or genuine terror. Honestly, with him leaning so hard into this stylized spectacle, is he even capable of delivering a true horror masterpiece anymore?
Neil Marshall kicked things off with that fun, popcorn-flick vibe of Dog Soldiers, then leveled up with the absolute claustrophobic masterclass that was The Descent, only to pivot straight into Doomsday—which, let’s be honest, felt like one of those forgettable, mediocre attempts at paying homage to late 70s and early 80s exploitation cinema. Is he totally washed up? Maybe not quite yet, but for now, he feels like just another one-trick pony, much like most of those horror directors who crawled out of the 90s scene, you know, guys like Lucky McKee, Brad Anderson, James Wan, or Ti West...
Sure, Pascal Laugier signed off on an absolutely brutal horror masterpiece with Martyrs, but I can’t help feeling a bit uneasy about his creepy debut, St. Agnes, or the way he seems to be flirting with the allure of Hollywood and that whole Ajin vibe. Is he actually going to become someone significant? Honestly, the only way that happens is if he manages to resist the siren song of the Hollywood machine—if he can actually stick to his own rules instead of selling his soul to some cursed corporate dollar. It’s such a massive shame that those mindless American studio execs couldn't just step aside and let him handle his own Hellraiser remake.
After delivering a film as mentally taxing and visceral as Ginger Snaps, John Fawcett followed it up with The Dark, and then—was it even earned?—he just completely vanished off the radar.
It turns out the horror weekend warriors—those directors who don't spend their entire lives exclusively trapped in the genre—actually end up pulling off much more impressive feats with their one-off ventures, don't they? You look at guys like Bong Joon-ho, Lars von Trier, Alejandro Amenábar, Danny Boyle, Bill Paxton, Edgar Wright, Ruben Fleischer, Bruce LaBruce, Robin Campillo, Tomas Alfredson, and Shinya Tsukamoto, and you have to wonder: why does a single dive into the macabre often yield such massive results compared to the specialists?
The legends of horror aren't exactly popping up everywhere like they used to, are they? They’ve mostly scattered, forgotten by time or just drifting through a sort of semi-senile haze with dulled senses, and when they actually try to bite back at the genre, it’s usually just an embarrassing spectacle for both the directors and their most die-hard fans—though I’m not counting those mindless, uncritical devotees who worship at their altars. This whole crowd of former masters fits the bill perfectly: Carpenter is busy chasing high highs and playing easy games, Hooper has retreated to the direct-to-DVD trenches, and Argento seems lost in a madness of his own making, sinking deeper into pure trash. Then you’ve got De Palma, who basically vanished into action movies, while Cronenberg decided he’d rather be "respectable" than bother showing up for the genre anymore. Larry Cohen occasionally resurfaces with some B or C-list script, but it’s a far cry from the stuff he used to pull off. Old man Romero is still trying to squeeze blood from a stone with his zombie flicks, though the success is drying up fast, and Craven is still desperately hunting for a new Freddy—honestly, out of this entire lot, he’s the only one who looks like he might actually deliver something above average, maybe even something genuinely relevant. I want to believe in a comeback for Carpenter—I really do, considering the man gave us two flawless masterpieces like Halloween and The Thing—but... well, we’ll see what happens this year when The Ward drops.
When looking at the newer names, the only director besides Pascal Laugier that I’d actually put some serious money on is Fabrice du Welz. Sure, his debut, Calvaire, was a bit messy and hit some awkward notes in certain spots, but let's be real—it was a wildly ambitious experiment that didn't just blow up in his face; it actually managed to pull off some genuine quality here and there. Those flashes of brilliance are almost perfectly realized in his latest work, Vinyan, which is truly excellent, so... I’m choosing to believe in his upward trajectory.
As for the veterans, my only safe bet remains Takashi Miike. Even though he doesn't touch horror all that often, every time he even gets within range of the genre, he churns out something totally unique and, at the very least, well above average. Then you have Takashi Shimizu, who really needs to prove he can do something more than just endlessly recycling his nonsensical, fragmented Ju-On; he clearly knows how to craft a creepy scene—you can see it in his low-budget experimental Marebit—but he still has to demonstrate that he can actually tell a cohesive story and use that terror for something higher than just a cheap "jump scare" moment. Meanwhile, Koji Shiraishi has already shown he can terrify us with Noroi and make us sick with Grotesque, so let's just hope he starts using those talents a bit more frequently and, you know, intelligently.
And that’s about it for now. 🙂