The Phantom Carriage
If ever a film’s reputation preceded it, Victor Sjöström’s The Phantom Carriage is that film. On more than one occasion, Charlie Chaplin called it the best motion picture ever made, and in a 1924 interview he deemed Sjöström “the greatest director in the world.”
Robert Montgomery in Night Must Fall
The actor’s Oscar-nominated, atypically sinister turn supports the notion that unassuming fellows are often the ones to fear most.
James Stewart in Vertigo
In the inaugural entry of a new column singling out enduringly creepy film characterizations, an American sweetheart cast against type emerges as one of cinema’s most unexpectedly chilling villains.
Eyes Without a Face
Though recent events have redefined masks as symbols of caution and courtesy, their role in the horror pantheon is steadfastly sinister.
The Innocents
Jack Clayton’s masterpiece of narrative ambiguity The Innocents begins with a time-honored tableau: Deborah Kerr, hands clasped devoutly, imploring a higher power to make her useful to her young wards (“more than anything, I love children”).
Pearl
This past March, X, Ti West’s gleefully raunchy hybrid of two late-’70s subgenres (farmhouse horror and farmer’s-daughter porn), overachieved in four meaningful ways.
The Unknown
Unfairly remembered more for his staggering innovations with makeup than for his equally staggering dramatic skills, Lon Chaney is the absent father of horror cinema.
What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?
When Bette Davis as Jane served Joan Crawford’s Blanche her pet bird for “din-din,” a new strain of horror was born. Either “Grande Dame Guignol” or “psycho-biddy cinema,” depending on your degree of reverence…
Soylent Green
There’s no crueler fate for an inventive, well-crafted film than being remembered solely for its twist ending, especially with said twist divulged through a line reading that oxidized into self-parody as soon as it entered the atmosphere.
Class Acts
Acclaimed stars’ forays into horror roles are always revealing, and sometimes revelatory.