Editorials
Can Horror Movies Go Too Far?
A friend of mine once explained that she didn’t watch horror movies because the daily news was already horrific enough for her. While I obviously don’t agree with that sentiment, her opinion is entirely valid, and there’s no reason to disrespect those who don’t share in our gruesome tastes. That being said, her statement can be regarded as a symptom of a long-standing issue in the world of blood, gore, and frights.
After all, in a society as frustratingly violent as our own, it’s only natural that some would question the need for disturbing imagery in media. Popular culture has seeped into nearly every aspect of modern life, so you can’t blame people for feeling a little apprehensive about the possible side-effects of this weird relationship. With these social anxieties in mind, we horror fans are faced with an exceedingly pertinent question regarding our beloved genre: Can Horror Movies Go Too Far?
People have been arguing over the limits of violence in media since media was barely old enough to shave, and these arguments will likely continue into the distant future. One recurring thread in this everlasting debate is the unjustified depiction of horror films, books, games and other media as scapegoats for seemingly inexplicable acts of real-world violence. For some people, it seems that the genre has already crossed the line.
This rather unfair treatment of scary movies and the like isn’t anything new, with even the incredibly popular Universal Monster movies facing heavy censorship back in the day, but the discussion resurges seasonally like an undead slasher villain, usually in light of recent tragedies. Admittedly, this problem has become less prevalent with the rise of the internet, but it hasn’t exactly disappeared, and nearly every big horror filmmaker has had to deal with these issues at some point in their lives.
Movies don’t always have to be a pleasant experience…
The late Wes Craven was unfortunate enough to be in the spotlight of such controversy more than once in his legendary career, facing heavy criticism for pushing the limits of horror with his work. An early example of this is his terrifying 1972 thriller, The Last House on the Left. Many accused Craven of glorifying the incredibly realistic violent acts depicted in the picture, deeming it particularly offensive towards women. This led to the film, which was ironically well-received by most critics, being banned/censored in several countries.
The Scream movies, which aren’t even that explicit when compared to most other slasher films, were also targeted due to a series of alleged copy-cat murders inspired by the Ghostface killer. While the public eye will always desperately try to find an easy-to-digest motive behind these unfortunate incidents, it’s quite obvious that the Scream franchise’s involvement in these crimes was tangential at best (which is also what the legal system declared nearly every time horror movies have been blamed for real-world crime).
Of course, the horror genre is far from the only form of media affected by these controversies, and several other big-name directors have also dealt with their own fair share of criticism. Quentin Tarantino is one of my favorite examples, as it’s always amusing to watch him passionately defend his use of violence when faced with some of the most annoying critics that the industry has to offer. In his case, however, the exaggerated use of blood and guts has since been accepted as its own style of neo-grindhouse filmmaking. When it comes to public perception of the genre as a whole, horror is still somewhat marginalized, despite countless examples of mainstream financial success.
This contradictory relationship with the genre is even stranger when you consider that, during most of their history, scary movies have actually been reinforcing traditional societal values. Hell, even the most disturbing haunted house movies still make a point of honoring family and religious tradition. I’m not even going to begin to dissect the not-so-subtle puritanical subtext of most classic slasher films.
That’s not to say that there haven’t been any particularly subversive horror flicks in the past, as many filmmakers have attempted to question what is and isn’t acceptable on the big screen. Movies like the August Underground trilogy routinely challenge our perception of brutality in fiction, sometimes feeling more akin to a snuff film than a traditional horror movie. The artistic merit of some of these more extreme productions may be questionable at times, but they certainly have a right to exist. This is especially true when these cinematic limits are pushed in order to make a point.
Should some movie tickets double as coupons for therapy?
One of the best examples of this would be Srđan Spasojević’s A Serbian Film, which uses its brutality as a storytelling device, provided you can make it to the bitter end. Personally, I think the film is masterfully directed, with several layers of well-crafted metaphors and social commentary, but I can’t honestly say that I enjoyed watching it. Nevertheless, in cases like this, maybe that’s the point, and I don’t have to necessarily like the movie in order to appreciate it.
Not every film needs to please mainstream audiences, and absolutely no one is forced to like these movies. At the end of the day, horror is just one genre within several art forms, and artists should be free to explore even the darkest aspects of human experience. Social responsibility shouldn’t really be on a filmmaker’s mind when trying to craft an enjoyable/meaningful story, as that doesn’t factor in on whether or not a movie is actually good.
Naturally, the horror genre would certainly benefit from more nuanced and purposeful depictions of violence and depravity, but it doesn’t really owe us anything. Not only that, but audiences aren’t wrong for enjoying some of the more savage examples of filmmaking. People have been entertained by the macabre and grotesque since the age of the first fairy tales, and there’s no real reason to stop now. Any horror fanatic can vouch for the genre’s positive impact on their life, so maybe it’s time to accept that great things can come from dreadful places.
In the end, I don’t think it’s possible for horror movies to go too far. The horror genre as a whole is defined by its willingness to break boundaries and go where other genres won’t, so why limit that progress? While there truly is no accounting for taste, and there’s no guarantee that extremely sadistic films will actually be good, I feel that humanity is better off having the option to watch some amazingly trashy works of art every once in a while.
There’s a lot of reading left to do in 2026, between the glut of summer releases and the approach of fall, when horror titles get a special push from publishers, but this has already been an incredible year for horror literature.
Some of the biggest names in the genre have turned in outstanding work, rising stars have made their mark, and we’re only halfway through the year.
To celebrate the midway point of 2026, with plenty of horror books still to come, we’re taking a look back at the best horror books we’ve read this year so far, listed alphabetically by author.
If you missed any of these books earlier in the year, consider this your reminder to catch up.
Japanese Gothic by Kylie Lee Baker
A student running from a crime he may or may not have committed escapes to his father’s country home in Japan, only to find himself haunted by strange apparitions, while in the past, a young samurai tries to find salvation for her family and finds a door to the future instead. Kylie Lee Baker’s Japanese Gothic begins with this dialogue between past and present, and then blossoms into so much more, a cross-time ghost story about old wounds and what it really takes to finally heal them. I got so happily lost in this one that I would have read at least 200 more pages.
Persona by Aoife Josie Clements
In this tale of shut-ins, sex workers, artists, and the horrors they both summon and recoil from, Aoife Josie Clements weaves something that feels less like a story to be experienced and more like a psychic wound to be endured, and I mean that in the most complimentary way possible. Evocative in its prose and nightmarish in its imagery, Persona is a story of the masks we wear, and the understanding that not all of our masks are particularly pretty or even easy to breathe through. It’s a dense, literary, unnervingly vicious book, and while it’s already attracted an audience, it deserves a much bigger one.
Dead First by Johnny Compton
Johnny Compton’s latest novel opens with a throwing down of the gauntlet, a sequence that made me instantly think “How on Earth is he going to top this?” It’s a story that begins with a billionaire hiring a private investigator to determine why, despite trying in many brutal ways, he cannot die. That premise, and the scene which sets it all off, is so alluring and delightfully gruesome that you almost can’t believe it’s the way a book begins, and then Compton just keeps going, delivering a supernatural mystery that I could not put down.
Make Me Better by Sarah Gailey
A woman grieving for the life she wanted visits a mysterious island renowned for the healing salt its residents harvest and sell, seeking renewal and relief. What she finds instead is a strange cult with a twisted history with surprising resonance in her own life, and a people who are more than willing to grant the relief she wants, for a price. Laced with beautiful prose and moments of profound realization alongside folk and even cosmic horror, this is vintage Sarah Gailey.
Partially Devoured by Daniel Kraus
If you love horror film history and analysis, Partially Devoured is an essential. Written by Pulitzer Prize-winner Daniel Kraus, the book is a deep dive into his favorite movie of all time, George A. Romero‘s Night of the Living Dead, complete with exhaustive research into the making of the film and passages of deeply moving memoir woven in. If you’ve ever wanted to know what the eerie music that opens the film is called while also bursting into tears at how horror movies can save your life, this is a must-read.
Wretch by Eric LaRocca
Our reigning King of Extreme Horror, Eric LaRocca weaves books of uncommon beauty out of the most nightmarish parts of humanity, and Wretch is no exception. The story of a grieving man who longs for relief and searches for it amid a strange support group that might be a cult, Wretch is a brutal journey into the darkest part of us all, and explores what salvation we might find when we get to the rotten core of the world and peel back its layers. LaRocca’s on a tear of great work right now that few other genre writers can match.
Headlights by CJ Leede
A mystery, a serial killer horror show, a tribute to Stephen King‘s The Shining. All of these things describe CJ Leede’s Headlights, and yet they don’t begin to cover the full breadth of horror awaiting you in this novel. The story of a former FBI agent drawn back into the cold case that haunts him most, it’s a shocker brimming over with vivid moments that’ll live behind your eyes. CJ Leede has now published three novels, and they’re all bangers, so it’s time to get on board if you haven’t already.
It Came From Neverland by Cynthia Pelayo
Cynthia Pelayo has been one of our finest genre writers for years now, but It Came From Neverland is my favorite thing she’s written, and it’s not even close. A dark take on Peter Pan from the perspective of an adult Wendy Darling living in World War I-era London, Pelayo’s book works as both a satisfying horror narrative and a rich exploration of what it really means to never grow up. The horror never loses its potency, but it’s the search for the meaning behind the Peter Pan phenomenon in our own lives, and what we can do about it, that sticks with me most.
Filth Eaters by Ito Romo
Ito Romo’s Filth Eaters is a slim volume, one you can read in just a couple of hours if you’ve got the inclination, but it has the feel of a generation-spanning epic. The story of a breed of vampires born in Central America, the European vampires who encounter them, and the offspring they eventually produced, it spans centuries and packs loads of juicy lore into its pages while never losing its grip on character and narrative drive. I would read hundreds more pages of this world, but I’ll settle for this uncommonly grand-scale novella for now.
Dead But Dreaming of Electric Sheep by Paul Tremblay
A former pro gamer gets a job at a tech company to pilot a brain-dead human body across the country, and so Paul Tremblay’s sci-fi-horror juggernaut begins. Indebted to Philip K. Dick, the primal snarl of Harlan Ellison, and the quirky comedy of The Big Lebowski, and yet wholly original, this is a towering and ambitious novel by one of horror’s most respected voices. What starts as a high-concept tech thriller soon becomes a startling meditation on the value of stories, who gets to tell them, and what happens when we cede too much control to machines we don’t understand. It’s a stunner.
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