1. Midsommar
Ari Aster’s folk horror nightmare is less about jump scares and more about the slow, agonizing unraveling of a relationship amidst sun-drenched pagan rituals. It's an uncomfortable watch that sticks with you, challenging what horror can be when it trades shadows for blinding light. And honestly, it’s a brilliant, albeit disturbing, portrayal of codependency taken to its absolute extreme, making you question every summer vacation plan.
2. Eraserhead
David Lynch’s debut feature is a masterclass in atmospheric dread, a black-and-white dive into industrial alienation and the anxieties of parenthood. Its dream logic and unsettling sound design create an experience that’s less narrative and more a pervasive feeling of unease. You won't exactly "understand" it, but you'll certainly feel it, long after the credits roll, cementing its place in surrealist cinema.
3. Hereditary
Another A24 horror gem, *Hereditary* isn't just scary; it's a profound, excruciating exploration of intergenerational trauma and grief. Toni Collette’s performance anchors this descent into familial madness and occult terror, leaving you utterly shattered. And while its final act leans into the supernatural, the true horror lies in the inescapable weight of inheritance, playing out like a Greek tragedy wrapped in a nightmare.
4. Possession
Andrzej Żuławski’s *Possession* is a Cold War-era divorce drama that spirals into grotesque body horror and existential madness. Isabelle Adjani’s raw, visceral performance is legendary, particularly that subway scene. It’s a film that defies easy categorization, a fever dream of marital collapse and doppelgängers, reflecting societal anxieties through its bizarre, unforgettable lens. And truthfully, it's a testament to how far cinema can push boundaries.
5. Tusk
Kevin Smith’s foray into body horror, *Tusk*, is exactly what happens when a podcast joke goes *way* too far. It's absurd, disturbing, and often darkly funny, a bizarre tale of a man surgically transformed into a walrus. You really can’t unsee it. And while it’s definitely not for everyone, it’s a testament to Smith’s willingness to experiment, even if the result is truly, undeniably "out there."
6. The Lobster
Yorgos Lanthimos brings us *The Lobster*, a wonderfully deadpan dystopian satire where single people are forced to find a partner in 45 days or be transformed into animals. It’s a biting critique of societal pressures around relationships, delivered with Lanthimos’ signature awkward humor and unsettling formality. And honestly, it makes you re-evaluate every dating app profile you’ve ever seen.
7. Under the Skin
Jonathan Glazer’s *Under the Skin* is a mesmerizing, chilling experience starring Scarlett Johansson as an alien predator. It’s a sparse, atmospheric film that uses real hidden camera footage, blurring lines between fiction and reality. The film explores themes of identity, humanity, and consumption with a quiet, haunting power. And truly, it makes you question what it means to observe and be observed in our world.
8. Brazil
Terry Gilliam’s *Brazil* is a fantastical, nightmarish vision of a hyper-bureaucratic future that feels eerily relevant. It’s a darkly comedic, visually inventive masterpiece about a man trying to escape a stifling system, constantly battling paperwork and oppressive technology. And while its ending is notoriously bleak, it’s a vital, imaginative piece of filmmaking that still resonates with anyone who’s ever filled out a form.
9. The Lighthouse
Robert Eggers’ *The Lighthouse* is a black-and-white, claustrophobic descent into madness, featuring two lighthouse keepers succumbing to isolation and their own toxic masculinity. Willem Dafoe and Robert Pattinson deliver incredible, intense performances, making the film a masterclass in psychological tension. And honestly, it’s a grimy, salty, and utterly compelling watch that leaves you questioning everything you thought you saw, and probably smelling like brine.
10. Pink Flamingos
John Waters’ *Pink Flamingos* is the absolute pinnacle of "trash cinema," a joyous, defiant celebration of the grotesque. Divine’s iconic performance as Babs Johnson, "the filthiest person alive," anchors this outrageous, no-holds-barred assault on good taste. It’s deliberately shocking and designed to provoke, a true counter-culture artifact that continues to challenge conventional entertainment. And honestly, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.
