Editorials
7 Great Horror-Themed Board Games You Should Be Playing
Horror and table-top gaming have always gone hand-in-hand, making “game night” a term that transcends images of sitting around a card table with your family accusing each other of cheating at Monopoly.
Here are some of my personal favorites.
Dead of Winter (Plaid Hat Games)
The Game: In this co-op game, you and up to four friends must work together to survive the zombie apocalypse in the harshest weather conditions. While this may sound like a reductive premise, the game keeps things fresh with the inclusion of the possibility that one person in your group is not what they seem. This game is not for novices and the first few plays may be a little rocky (you will lose multiple times, and that’s okay). But once you get the hang of things, you’ll want to start playing on the harder setting.
Who should play: Your friends who bitch about how The Walking Dead has killed the zombie genre.
The Bloody Inn (Asmodee)
The Game: Set during the nineteenth century in the French countryside, players take turns shuffling guests in and out of the titular inn in hopes to accumulate the most money by the end of the game. However, the means through which said money is earned is deception and murder. This game is a blast, but it takes a lot of patience. The rules are pretty straightforward, but each turn is limited in actions, which makes each decision vital. This game is not “action-packed,” but the tension is palpable. Getting caught red-handed is always something that can occur, and trying to watch out for yourself while screwing over the other players is continuously engaging.
Who should play: Your friends who joke about the best way to hide a dead body (but secretly they’re not joking).
Letters from Whitechapel (Fantasy Flight Games)
The Game: Letters from Whitechapel is broken up over the course of four nights in London in 1888, during which Jack the Ripper stalks the streets, on the hunt for victims. This game can be played by up to six players, with one player taking the role of Jack and the others as detectives trying to stop the murder spree. This game is all about strategic movement and deception. The player controlling Jack has a slight advantage as his player card is hidden from his rivals, making his moments unpredictable in the on-going investigation. Each night within the game is broken down into several phases that make the ostensibly overwhelming pacing flow pretty well. Working together with the other detectives to stop Jack from killing five victims before the end of the fourth night is exhilarating. But playing as Jack is almost more rewarding…if you can get away with it.
Who should play: Your creepy friends who sincerely ask the question, “who is your favorite serial killer?”
Smash Up (AEG)
The Game: Okay, this is a bit of a cheat because technically Smash Up isn’t a horror-themed game in the traditional sense. But what it is, is a battle card game where you can play as every movie monster imaginable. In Smash Up, players are dealt two decks of cards known as “factions.” Each faction has a special ability based on the monster (or fantasy creature) its cards represent. For example, vampire faction cards drain the power of other players’ cards; the zombie deck resurrects cards from your discard pile; and so on. Players use cards to destroy bases placed in the middle of the table, gaining the points they hold until one player reaches the preset point limit. What makes Smash Up so much fun is how versatile it is. Point limits can be raised or lowered depending on how quickly you’d like the game to move along. And selecting the right pair of factions is an ever-evolving process.
Who should play: Your friends who love monsters and are good at simple math.
Eldritch Horror (Fantasy Flight Games)
The Game: In this Lovecraftian co-op role playing game, you and up to seven friends take the roles of investigators trying to stop an impending apocalyptic doom. Eldritch took everything that was great about it spiritual predecessor, Arkham Horror and condensed it down to a tighter, faster game that doesn’t lose any of Arkham’s charm or intricate play-style. Theme and story-telling take the forefront here, making this a great experience for Lovecraft nuts and RPG-lovers.
Who should play: Your friends who argue over the spelling and/or pronunciation of “Cthulhu” will be enthralled.
The Walking Dead Risk: Survival Edition (USAopoly)
The Game: Sometimes all it takes is a small tweak to make a classic game feel fresh again. While a lot of licensed property versions of board games offer nothing but new paintjob, The Walking Dead Risk injects new threats and tactics to what is arguably the king of all table-top strategy games to create something special. While games like Dead of Winter focus on the micro transactions and inner-personal tension found within a zombie apocalypse, TWD Risk focuses on the macro-aggressions of a turf war (and dealing with the pesky undead fucking up your strongholds).
Who should play: Your friends who felt ripped off when they realized their copy of Star Wars Monopoly was just regular Monopoly with X-Wings instead of thimbles or whatever.
Betrayal at House on the Hill (Avalon Hill)
The Game: This game kicks so much ass. In “Betrayal,” players take turns building a haunted house, filled with multiple levels, secret rooms, and terrors waiting around every corner. Once the house is built and the haunts are put into place, one player takes the roll of the traitor and is given their own rule book on how to completely destroy the other players in the game. What sets this game apart (and why it’s number one on this list) is its complete unpredictability and the anticipation of which of your friends will become the nightmare in the game and which of the myriad scenarios you’ll have to survive.
Who should play: Your friends who say Ghost Hunters is dumb, but secretly DVR it.
So there you go. What’s your favorite horror-themed board game?
Editorials
Why Mainstream Horror Should Lighten Up
“Elevated Horror.” Of all the combinations in the English language, that one is the most insufferable.
It represents almost a decade of scary movies that, for the most part, took themselves too seriously. Horror responds to the moment, so its “why so serious” lean makes sense as we scuttle through the “worst of times” equation of Charles Dickens’ famous opening lines. But there’s still an opening and a need for a lighter approach; one that not only has fun with its audience but takes the piss out of a genre that is seemingly letting its newfound “respectability” go to its head.
Wes Craven believed devotees see horror films to let out their fears one primal scream at a time. At their core, these movies are roller coasters; they bring us as close to the edge as possible before pulling us back into a safety net of reality. The need for a bigger and badder coaster increases during times when the size of that net decreases.
There’s a thrill that comes from imagining being in a foot race with a madman, or outthinking the hordes of zombies on the other side of the door, plus the scavenger humans coming behind them. There’s even a rush that comes from imagining how one might deal with possession to see good triumph over evil in the end. It’s all about building tension and releasing it through catharsis. That cathartic release usually sounds like screams followed by laughter, which signals relief. Genre heavy hitters over the past 10 years offered very little of that respite when the credits rolled. Films like Hereditary, The Witch, Talk to Me, and even Smile (pick one) keep that tension going after the screen fades to black.

Hereditary
As the genre became obsessed with creating trauma metaphors, that lack of release made sense. Anyone with even a small sample size of traumatic experiences knows those emotions don’t magically resolve themselves in an allotted run time. But how much trauma can one take? Especially when there’s a mess going on outside that few of us can escape from. Movies offer that off-ramp, no matter how short.
Everything can’t be, nor should it be, “elevated.” Audiences need thoughtful explorations of life’s ills via monsters as much as they need murdering masked maniacs with kitchen knives. And no, it doesn’t have to go any deeper than that. Sometimes, a knife is just a knife, and it’s still worth our time and respect. As weird as it sounds, that simplicity is comforting not in spite of the trauma but because of it.
The worst of times should manifest more than just anguish. People need to laugh just as much as they need to think seriously about this moment in time. Even the Scream franchise forgot the meta rock upon which it built its church when the latest foray sacrificed the subtle comedy for serious drama. Scary Movie returned at the perfect moment. It provides the necessary laughs, but it’s not a cure-all.
This isn’t a call for Scary Movie imitators but a return to a mainstream landscape where Killer Klowns from Outer Space sat with The Serpent and the Rainbow, nestled neatly with the latest Nightmare on Elm Street, which took nothing away from The Vanishing.

They Live
Even They Live, John Carpenter’s horror sci-fi satire sandwich, kept its tongue firmly in cheek while discussing serious ideas still relevant in 2026. Yes, a film about aliens taking over the world through subliminal messaging only visible through coded sunglasses is, in fact, a tad silly. Carpenter understood that mainstream horror can’t become so self-important that it never looks itself in the mirror and laughs at that inherent silliness.
The thing is, horror historically excels at poking fun at itself. Most of the Scream franchise, The Cabin in the Woods, or The Blackening show adoration without kowtowing. They recognize tropes and trappings but invert them for an audience already in on the joke, but one that also finds solace in said conventions. This keeps the genre on its toes; once something gets parodied, it’s usually time to evolve. That breeds new ideas and fresh filmmakers, which not only strengthen the genre’s collective voice but also amplify it.
Get Out, as “elevated” as some critics want us to believe it is, is a cathartic, populist scary movie that spoke to an untapped audience rather than speaking down to them. Backrooms is one of the biggest horror hits in years, partially because it’s fine-tuned for modern-day teenagers instead of their parents. Movies like these tell everyone the genre is open for business; open for innovation and, yeah, open for new ways in which people can lovingly poke fun at with a wink and a nudge.
Horror needs dread as much as it needs laughter.
Catharsis is just as important as tension, and pulpy populism has the same merit as more high-brow material. Respectability shouldn’t come at the expense of an experience akin to walking through a haunted house. At a time when joy seems in short supply, horror should look to its past to map out its future, and make things just a tad brighter for audiences.

Backrooms







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