Every year, horror fans gather to decide what the best horror movies of the year are; 2025 alone saw what many would consider contemporary masterpieces, such as Sinners and The Ugly Stepsister. Yet, the brutal truth of being a horror fan is that there is always that chance you will miss out on what would be the actual ‘best’ movie of the year based on your tastes, with countless gems tucked away on streaming sites like Tubi, or never getting the deserved push to bring them to the forefront. This is further compacted when looking back at pre-streaming or even pre-home video. Increase the scope internationally, and the genre has easily produced hundreds, if not thousands, of movies annually.
No one can keep up with all the horror movies that are released, let alone watch them all. Unfortunately, this means that masterpieces often fall into obscurity. These 10 horror movies may not have pierced the mainstream, but they deserve a second look and to be championed.
‘One Cut of the Dead’ (2017)
A cult sensation, One Cut of The Dead only really teeters on the obscure, as those who love international horror movies certainly tuned in for the chaos on the screen in this Japanese found footage horror film. The story here follows a camera crew heading out to make a zombie movie, only to find themselves under attack from the dead. Nothing here is as simple as it seems, and while One Cut of the Dead has been out for several years, the trick is still to see it knowing as little as possible.
One Cut of the Dead takes two pretty established genres, zombie and found footage, and manages to do something wholly original with them. Yet originality is not always the key to mastery, and here, filmmaker Shin’ichirō Ueda also delivered a love letter to indie cinema, backed by a charismatic cast that lands the movie’s humorous moments just as well as its horrific ones. The movie is an utter delight from start to finish.
‘The House of the Devil’ (2009)
It was a fascinating time to be a horror fan back in the late 2000s and early 2010s, with much of the landscape shifting with the rise of the now-defunct ‘elevated horror’ label, driving a divide in the fandom. While Ti West would become one of the most beloved directors in 2022 with his film X, The House of the Devil was dividing fans and bringing the ‘not scary’ argument to the forefront during the changing face of horror. Still, time has been kind to The House of the Devil, and it now exists as one of the most stylish and unsettling movies of the decade.
The story is deceptively simple: a young student finds herself in an odd arrangement where a babysitting job soon leads her to suspect there is something more sinister going on. Here, it is more about atmosphere and a slow build to a singular moment of terror. While this formula is common now, at the time, The House of the Devil’s pacing was jarring in the horror landscape. Not necessarily a first, either, but an early horror movie that brilliantly tapped into that slow-burn formula that is just as effective today as it was on release.
‘Razorback’ (1984)
Who does not love some animal-themed chaos? Whether it’s killer sharks, apes, or snakes, the horror sub-genre has long been a staple among fans. The idea of nature turning on people will always have its appeal, and while it may seem like many of the classics from the 80s have already been explored, one certainly flew under the radar: Russell Mulcahy’s Australian killer-boar movie Razorback.
First and foremost, the design of the killer Razorback is pure 80s bliss, using practical effects and cinematography to bring the giant beast to life. At the same time, Mulcahy shows a clever reserve in using the creature, and throughout the film, it takes on an almost mythical aura, accompanied by smoky visuals and audio cues. It truly was ahead of its time at release and would prove highly influential in its own right. However, its very distinct Australian identity pushed Razorback into obscurity, leaving it to the vocal few to champion it as the stand-out it is.
‘Masking Threshold’ (2021)
Masking Threshold follows a man who suffers from a symptom similar to tinnitus but believes there is a deeper meaning behind the sounds that trigger it. Through a series of sound and visual experiments, he begins to unravel what he believes to be the truth, while the viewer bears witness to a terrifying, obsessive madness.
In the modern landscape of horror, it is increasingly difficult to come across originality. For this reason, Austrian director Johannes Grenzfurthner has become an exciting creative force, slowly building a cult following. Here, Grenzfurthner takes his obsession with technology and visual art to craft a story primarily told through micro cameras and monologues. It is an utterly uncomfortable experience, but one that is so meticulously crafted from start to finish, painting a frightening vision of madness and violence. Masking Threshold offers a fully immersive, unforgettable experience deserving of masterpiece status.
‘Come True’ (2020)
A standout sci-fi horror movie that hovers between dreamlike flow and nightmarish visuals, Anthony Scott Burns’s story starts by treading some familiar ground: a young, troubled teen, Sarah (Julia Sarah Stone), enters a scientific study to help earn some cash and cure her insomnia. However, as Sarah becomes more involved in the study, her visions of otherworldly figures start to manifest in her waking life, potentially opening up a portal to something far more sinister.
While the film feels like it exists in two parts and has a twist ending that could be divisive, Come True delivers visuals that capture dreamscapes and the ominous entities that dwell there, landing its horror hauntingly between sleep-paralysis demons and Lovecraftian horrors. The movie does not hit you over the head with scares, but it nuzzles its way in with an ethereal flow and dreamy pace that complement a horror movie that draws its terror from dreams.
‘Under the Blossoming Cherry Tree’ (1975)
Classic Japanese horror already exists in the realm of the obscure for many, as while films like Onibaba and Kwaidan have become revered for their artistry, they are not as widely championed by the masses. Digging even deeper into classic J-horror, the movies grow increasingly obscure when not given proper retrospectives or added to the Criterion collection.
Under the Blossoming Cherry Tree is a beautiful tale of madness set in Feudal Japan, in which a ruthless warrior captures a woman to be his wife after finding her beneath a blossoming cherry tree. Yet, when he brings her home, he finds himself succumbing to her charm and wishes, as she forces him to feed into his more violent tendencies to keep her appeased. Seductive, cruel, and a dark commentary about the nature of humanity, the movie’s total obscurity borders on criminal.
‘Always Shine’ (2016)
A psychological horror/thriller, Always Shine follows two best friends, Beth (Caitlin FitzGerald) and Anna (Mackenzie Davis), who also happen to be aspiring actors. While Beth has seen some success, Anna has had little luck landing a role. To get away from the pressure of their careers, the two head to a cabin together to unwind, reconnect with their creative selves, and strengthen their friendship, which has been challenged by jealousy in the ultra-competitive industry. Yet, a single incident turns the peaceful outing into a spiral into madness and paranoia.
Always Shine is such an apt title, with the dire push for stardom staying relevant through the film’s dark twists and turns. The film has such rich psychological and thematic depth, phenomenal performances, and offers a clever critique of misogyny and a scarcity mentality in the movie industry. In the current landscape of socially conscious cinema, Sophia Takal’s Always Shine deserves to be revisited and championed.
‘The Witch Who Came From the Sea’ (1976)
Matt Cimber’s The Witch Who Came From the Sea is a deeply unsettling psychological horror movie that hid its true brilliance behind an exploitative veneer. Set in a decaying Southern California beach town, the movie follows Molly (Millie Perkins), a local bartender living with her alcoholic brother. Both struggle with mental health, having grown up with an abusive father, but for Molly, years of repressed emotions start to manifest in violent ways as her sexual obsessions begin to meld with murderous intent.
While the movie gets lumped in with many of the ’70s shockers, The Witch Who Came From the Sea takes the sensational sexuality and brutality of the exploitation genre and turns it on its head. Instead of the eroticized violence or cathartic revenge that dominated exploitation cinema, here trauma is shown as cyclical, ugly, and unresolvable. Add in its bleak tone, uncompromising melding of sex and violence, and ambiguous story, and it is no surprise that it was both brushed off as sleaze but also lost on those looking for just that. A movie ahead of its time that is still just as powerful today as it was in the 70s.
‘Alucarda’ (1977)
Initially lumped into the exploitation genre, the Mexican folk horror of Alucarda has grown in appreciation over the years, but has not gained enough notoriety to be championed alongside other standouts of the horror subgenre. The story follows Justine (Susana Kamini), a young orphan sent to a remote convent, who gets introduced to Satanism when she befriends the rebellious Alucarda (Tina Romero). This singular event acts as the catalyst for a complete breakdown of the church, as they try desperately to oust the devil.
Alucarda is quite the ride, with the transgressive film melding together many genres and styles. Here, you have gothic vampire mythology contrasting with the more sensational nunsploitation, and religious hysteria often manifesting through psychedelic visual excess. This makes the movie far from a ‘polished masterpiece,’ yet it stands as a singular work within an era of exploitation cinema that is unlike any other. Moreover, the movie offers a subversive and clever critique of the church that was ahead of its time.
‘Toad Road’ (2012)
Landing somewhere between a video diary and a drug-included nightmare, Toad Road starts innocently enough, with a couple, James (James Davidson) and Sara (Sara Anne Jones), deciding to take on a viral challenge and visit a remote location where people have disappeared. However, when Anna does not return, and James can’t recall the details of what happened, he finds himself on the run and indulging in self-destructive behavior as he tries to drown out his guilt with substance abuse and physical pain.
The horror here is a bit more loose, as Toad Road exists as a sort of mystical place that looms over much of the story without being clearly defined. Notably, the question is posed early on: who actually got lost when visiting Toad Road? Where the movie shines, however, is in its raw authenticity, as James spirals and slowly destroys his own life in a desperate bid to find forgiveness. Think mumblecore degrading into abject horror and depression, and you get a rough idea of what kind of expertly crafted horror film director Jason Banker was aiming for.
This story originally appeared on Movieweb
