A Primer in Grief Horror Films, Just In Time For Valentine's Day

We all have feelings about Valentine’s Day. I’m not a huge fan, but I’m not grumpy about it either. Originally, this week’s post was going to be a “real love song” playlist, but I just couldn’t get excited about it or make up my mind about what the theme would actually be.

And then my brother and I started talking about one of my all-time favorite topics: horror movies. Growing up, I unintentionally traumatized my little brothers with all the horror I used to watch, so neither of them are big horror fans. My brother watched The Babadook recently and loved the way the entire movie was a metaphor for grief, and he got intrigued about the potential of horror movies to serve as metaphors for grief/loss/guilt.

And then I got excited because that’s one of my favorite subgenres of horror — horror as a metaphor or analogy for grief/loss/guilt. You can make the argument that a good horror film is always serving as a metaphor for something, which would be true, but I especially love ones that star grief, guilt and loss.

So I decided to write up a crash course in this subgenre for my brother and for all of you. In no particular order, I present to you: a primer in grief/loss/guilt horror:

Pet Sematary (1989)

If you’re on Twitter, you might know that Stephen King has really stepped in it recently and shown his cis-male white privilege on a few occasions. While that’s unfortunate, it doesn’t change the fact that Stephen King is a true master of horror, and Pet Sematary is no exception. A doctor and his wife move to a new town with their too-adorable-for-their-own-good kids, yadda yadda yadda, an ancient Native American ritual site whose soil has “gone sour” gets involved (I know, I know, it’s a…questionable choice, but here we are) (although, you might be able to argue that the crux of the film resting on an ancient Native American ritual site is also some kind of commentary on colonialism, I don’t want to start reading things into the text that aren’t really there), things get weird with a zombie cat, and then things get REALLY creepy. This movie is iconic for a reason.

The Babadook

Obviously. The catalyst for this list. There is so much to love about this film — that it’s about a woman whose husband died while she was giving birth to her son is heartbreaking enough. To watch her struggle to be a “good” mother to her son, who is a constant reminder of her husband and his death is so real and gut-wrenching. It upends tropes about what it means to be a “good” mother and what “good” parenthood looks like, and asks questions about what it means to be a mother and parent when you’ve experienced devastating trauma alongside an event that is supposed to be one of the happiest of your life, and what it means to struggle with a grief that threatens to consume you. UGH. Plus, it’ll keep you double-taking the shit you see out of the corner of your eye for at least 24 hours after you watch it.

Dark Was The Night

A favorite trope of mine is “small town law enforcement suddenly has to deal with a whole bunch of supernatural shenanigans and MAN, is it above their pay grade” and Dark Was The Night fits that bill. A creature feature shot mostly in frosty, moody blue tones, this one follows a small town sheriff who is swimming in grief and guilt following the loss of his son. His backstory is revealed bit by bit in tandem with his investigation into what exactly is terrorizing his small town. We grow to really love the sheriff and his deputy, and all you want for them is love, happiness, lively earth tones, and some sunshine, for god’s sake. Creature features (another absolute favorite horror subgenre of mine) can be hit or miss with the creature effects, but Dark was the Night keeps the mystery alive throughout most of the film and saves the big reveal for the very end, which is the best move they could have made. I’ve watched this movie three times now, and still, every time, my heart just wants that sheriff to open himself to love again.

The Final Girls

I love a good horror comedy, and The Final Girls is such a pleasant surprise. Taissa Farmiga stars as a woman whose late mother was an actress whose claim to fame was the lead role in a campy 80s slasher flick (that is clearly a spoof of Friday the 13th). Through some weird inexplicable twists, Farmiga’s character gets to see her mother again, except they’re all inside the campy 80s slasher film. This film will startle you with slasher scares while making you laugh and breaking your heart and sending up the campy 80s horror genre, all at the same time. Also, you can’t beat this cast: Malin Akerman, Nina Dobrev from The Vampire Diaries, Alia Shawkat from Arrested Development, and Adam Devine from Pitch Perfect and Workaholics. SO GOOD.

The Ritual (2017)

This is a British creature feature that follows 4 friends who go on a backpacking trip through northern Sweden in honor of their murdered friend. One of them busts an ankle, and they opt to take a shortcut to their hotel through some ominous-looking woods. We all know what happens next, but also…we don’t. I’ve watched this one twice, and get a mood for it more often than you’d think. This film is a seamless blend of creature feature, Swedish folklore, and a metaphor for an overwhelming grief and guilt that forces you to bow down to it.

The Void

A small-town cop finds a drugged out guy in the middle of nowhere and brings him to a hospital that is in the process of shutting down. The bare-bones night staff includes his wife, from whom he’s separated, and things get real intense, real quick from there. Many reviews of this movie call it an homage to low-budget ‘80s horror, which it is, but it really is so much more than that. There are nods to Lovecraftian horror and even ‘80s Italian horror director Lucio Fulci, and it’s clear that horror video games like Resident Evil are an influence here too. Aesthetics aside, at its heart, The Void is about different facets of grief, and all the ways it can destroy a person’s humanity.

Phantasm

Now, this one might be stretch, but I can’t not put it on the list. Phantasm is a Don Coscarelli film, and it’s a bonkers one at that. Jody and Mike are brothers whose parents have recently passed away. When Mike begins to be chased by a creepy entity they call the Tall Man, Jody tries to protect him, and things get pretty bananas from there. This movie is full of bonkers one-liners and WTF moments, and you’re probably never going to fully understand what’s going on. You’ll just have to be okay with that, and go along with wherever the movie takes you. It’s like a glorious, hilarious, campy, gory poem. In the midst of all its disorientation, Phantasm has great moments of tenderness and its characters live out emotions that will feel familiar to anyone who has been stricken with panic about the possible death of a loved one or has felt fiercely protective of a family member for whatever reason. I’ve seen this one countless times, and it hits me just as profoundly (and hilariously) every time.


These are only the first few that came to mind when I started this list — I’m sure there are many obvious ones that I’ve forgotten to add, but this is a good start. There are also movies I initially wanted to put on this list that didn’t make the cut because they featured grief, but not as a metaphor (see: Hereditary and Midsommar). If I left a film off this list that you think would be a good addition, tell me about it!

If you have a dark, broody, twisted side, like me, then this actually feels like the perfect Valentine’s Day post. So happy Valentine’s Day anyway, everyone. Hang out or snuggle up with your preferred scary movie partner and please, please, please, for the love of god, watch and enjoy these movies. These ones are some of my favorites, and I hope you all love them as much as I do.

I’m hard at work this week testing a recipe for a (hopefully) super delicious pie for M’s and my own V-Day celebrations, and I’ll tell you all about it next week. It might even have a playlist to go with it. And you might need to get ready for a lot of Jason Isbell and Kacey Musgraves.