Editorials
Monsters, Mental Health and ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’
Movies are one of my favorite ways to celebrate holidays. And while Halloween is my personal favorite holiday, I also look forward to the Christmas season and the movies that come with it. There are several films I enjoy during this time of year, with a special one being The Nightmare Before Christmas. This animated masterpiece was one of my first adventures into the dark and strange. From the tune of “This Is Halloween” to the delightfully creepy inhabitants of Halloween Town, I fell in love instantly. I came to love Jack and Sally, as well as the numerous designs of each monster. I’m not even the biggest musical person and I adore the film’s soundtrack.
The Nightmare Before Christmas is a wonderous film that contains a great deal of nostalgia for me – it has also helped me through difficult times. Throughout my life I’ve sought the film out; sometimes just for the sake of fun, but also to find comfort. Given that it is the holidays, I wanted to write something personal about my relationship to The Nightmare Before Christmas and the emotional significance I find within its narrative and protagonist.
A big reason I fell in love with horror was because of monsters – I’ve always held a special place in my heart for them. Though I’m a big fan of Dracula and The Creature from the Black Lagoon, Frankenstein and the Wolfman always stood out to me for how tragic they came off. I saw them as beings who either just wanted to fit in or who had no control over their impulsive actions, respectively. Flawed, misunderstood; in the wrong at times, but not evil.
I’ve spoken before about my relationship to horror and that of my mental health in the past – how horror movies have provided me a means to reflect upon myself and the struggles I’ve gone through. As someone who came upon the horrors of depression and OCD at an early age, I carried a great sense of “otherness.” For all my intrusive thoughts and compulsions, I felt ugly at times, and yes – even monstrous. The Nightmare Before Christmas brings me a lot of joy for the nostalgia it offers and how it celebrates the holidays, but it also empowers me in its celebration and positive light focused on the other.
While there are drastic differences between us, part of me identifies with Jack’s internal turmoil. It wouldn’t be until years after my initial viewing of the film where I picked up on what he was expressing in the song “Jack’s Lament.” He is known as the Pumpkin King, meant to champion Halloween and perform every year. Everyone looks forward and admires his work, but he is tired and itches for something new. He wants to know he is more than just the crown placed upon him.
A fun monster will scare and creep people out, but a powerful monster will get someone to reflect. Movie monsters oftentimes represent societal anxieties and fears (e.g., Godzilla, the Xenomorph from Alien) – to me though – they also offer a personal analysis. I’ve developed threads between Jack’s identity conflict and that of my own OCD and depression. I have had my moments where I’ve been afraid that I am just my mental illnesses, that my disorders make me who I am.
As a kid with mental illness, I didn’t see much representation of my particular struggles in media. Mental illness wasn’t a popular topic in kids’ movies or shows at the time – Thomas the Tank Engine wasn’t trying to work through gloom and mania each morning. The Nightmare Before Christmas, a kid’s movie, touches upon such ideas (even if they are a bit loose). The protagonist is combating depression and having an existential dilemma.
He eventually finds something that sparks him with inspiration – that being Christmas – and strives to take it over. He becomes obsessed with trying to find meaning within it, as well as inserting himself into that meaning. In his selfish drive, Jack succumbs to a moment of defeat, stating that he failed to bring about Christmas and change himself. Yet, in the song “Poor Jack,” he also acknowledges that he did his best and discovers a sense of rejuvenation. He finds peace in who he is, knowing that he is capable of creativity and being more, and looks forward to next Halloween where he can bring new scares to his friends.
Throughout the years and stories I’ve experienced, it has meant a great deal to witness this moment of development in Jack. Many tales surrounding monsters tend to involve fearing them or pointing out a fear they represent – but here is a movie where the monster comes to find their place in life.
Those of us who endure battles with mental illness each have our own story. In my experience, I used to carry a tremendous feeling of loneliness; that I was so different and incapable of being loved outside of my family, that no one would accept me for my mind. As I began to watch more horror growing up, monsters became a means for me to not feel as alone. I don’t think The Nightmare Before Christmas is this massive exploration of the psyche and existential distress, but through its narrative and protagonist, it is a special movie that has clicked with me.
Monsters, the horror genre for that matter, has this phenomenal power to heal and teach. I’ve come to meet a lot of folks who, while different from myself in many ways, have walked similar paths of suffering. The creepiness that may weird out others, brings us comfort; the dark is our blanket, and a reminder of how strong we are. I enjoy a lot of things – I’m a big ole geek – but I’ll always have a very unique, super important place in my heart for horror and its ghouls. Across all the stories I’ve watched, read, or played, I’ve always been attracted to the other; characters who were kind, maybe a little odd, but who wanted to fit in and just couldn’t. There are many characters I’ve come to love – who have offered me a sense of strength – but no one quite like the Pumpkin King.
For a long time, The Nightmare Before Christmas was solely a powerful source of joy and nostalgia in my life; as an adult though, I’ve come to acknowledge the emotional gifts it has provided me. That said, I feel that I’ve always known there was something extra special about this monster movie – it just took some years of growing to fully understand its value. It is one of those experiences that has changed my life forever (and in more ways than I could ever imagine). The Nightmare Before Christmas is a beautiful story full of charm and spooky delight, and of celebrating the holidays for the cheer they bring. It’s also a film that shows that monsters too face uncertainty and anxieties; that they too are hard on themselves. But even for a monster – The Nightmare Before Christmas speaks to the importance of believing in oneself.
Be safe ya’ll and Happy Holidays. – Michael
We’re now officially in the back half of 2026 now that July is here, but what a year it’s been for horror so far. The sequels and reboots are still holding strong at the box office with films like Scream 7 and Scary Movie, but it’s also been a year where new voices are shattering records in unexpected ways.
Markiplier eschewed conventional production and distribution channels with his feature adaptation of Iron Lung, for example. We’re also still in the midst of Backrooms and Obsession-mania, with the former back in theaters with bonus footage and the latter extending its box office reign. Liminal horror has exploded, and low-budget indie horror is seeing just as much, and sometimes even more, success as big studio-backed fare.
All of which to say that 2026 has been a hell of a year so far for the genre, and it’s only getting warmed up. Still on the way are Evil Dead Burn, Insidious: Out of the Further, Resident Evil, Clayface, Whalefall, and Werwulf, just to name a few.
Also catch up with the Best Horror Books and Best Horror Games of the year so far.
Here are the ten best horror movies of the year (so far).
10) Chime
Horror master Kiyoshi Kurosawa is back with one of his most haunting yet, though one that’d likely be higher on this list if it were more accessible. The 45-minute feature was initially produced and distributed as an NFT before receiving a theatrical run earlier this year, with no plans to distribute digitally or on home media. It spins a somewhat cryptic tale, introducing a culinary teacher, Takuji Matsuoka (Mutsuo Yoshioka, Never After Dark), whose classroom becomes disrupted by a strange sound that leads to violence. It’s a quiet but haunting unraveling, one that leaves no aspect of Matsuoka’s life untouched, in true Kiyoshi Kurosawa style. That it defies any easy explanation also ensures Chime embeds itself under your skin.
9) Send Help
Sam Raimi’s splatstick return to form is a delightfully deranged two-hander that doubles as infectious catharsis for anyone who’s ever had a bad boss. Rachel McAdams (Doctor Strange) and Dylan O’Brien (The Maze Runner) face off when their characters are shipwrecked on an island, prompting a bid for survival in more ways than one. While O’Brien often matches her, It’s McAdams who shines as she deftly handles everything that Raimi, working from a script by Damian Shannon & Mark Swift (Freddy vs. Jason), throws at her. Send Help is full of vibrant personality, packed with all of Raimi’s signatures, making for one of the most entertaining films of the year.
8) Mārama
New Zealand filmmaker Taratoa Stappard’s gothic tale begins in familiar fashion, with Mary Stevens (Ariāna Osborne) arriving in Yorkshire upon invitation to learn more about her parents, only to find the remote manor haunted. Just when Stappard’s period horror story feels doomed to succumb to familiar gothic trappings and jump scares, though, its true horror emerges. The more Mary uncovers about her heritage and her Māori culture, the clearer it becomes that this grim home is built on violence and exploitation. Stappard’s vision comes into its own when it leaves behind its gothic influences and embraces its Māori identity; few scenes are as powerful as when Osborne’s Mary performs a haka in response to her vile oppressors, heralding in a righteous bloodbath.
7) Touch Me
Writer/Director Addison Heimann draws from retro Japanese horror, exploitation cinema, and perhaps even hentai for his campy, psychosexual sophomore feature. A toxic friendship plagued by trauma, codependency, and addiction gets tested to the extreme when Brian (Lou Taylor Pucci), a hip-hop-loving, tracksuit-sporting alien, gets between them. Olivia Taylor Dudley and Jordan Gavaris have an easy rapport and play off each other well as directionless, depressed Millennial besties prone to ignoring their problems until they become insurmountable. But it’s Pucci’s inspired, childlike take on the chicken nugget-loving extraterrestrial with tentacled secrets of his own that steals the show. Heimann has a lot on his mind with his sophomore feature and neatly condenses it all into a quirky, eccentric psychosexual camp odyssey that leans heavily into humor.
6) Backrooms
Director Kane Parsons translates the vast liminal labyrinth of his web series to the big screen in his feature debut, one that instills existential dread with its atmospheric horror and narrative. The ‘ 90s-set horror movie introduces a protagonist with a serious chip on his shoulder over life’s many disappointments, who then discovers his furniture store harbors a hidden door that leads to an endless labyrinth. It’s not just the incredible production design that instills a disorienting sense of doom and terror, but the lead characters’ palpable and profound sense of loneliness and isolation. Parsons exudes impressive confidence and control as he methodically entrusts his quiet worldbuilding and talented leads to carry the dramatic weight. While Backrooms does deflate by the film’s cryptic, cliffhanger-y end, it’s arguably the most effective and scariest yet at capturing the uncanny valley of generative AI.
5) Leviticus
Writer/Director Adrian Chiarella uses an It Follows-like supernatural entity that relentlessly stalks its prey as a launchpad to immerse audiences in the horror of constantly living in fear for simply existing. A conversion therapy ritual among a deeply conservative community plunges a pair of erstwhile lovers into a nightmarish bid for survival when it summons a force that takes the shape of those whom the afflicted desires most. Chiarella refines the horror mechanics and metaphor with much sharper precision, ensuring that the scares and emotional gravity of the young couple’s terrifying predicament reach their intended impact. It’s the central layered performances by Joe Bird (Talk to Me) and Stacy Clausen (Thrash) that clinch emotional investment in their heartbreaking plight, ensuring that the social horror cuts deep.
4) Redux Redux
The McManus Brothers, writer/director duo Matthew and Kevin McManus (The Block Island Sound), dials up the intensity of a classic revenge story by setting it within a multiverse, where Irene Kelly (Michaela McManus) seeks to snuff out every single iteration of her daughter’s murderer, Neville (Jeremy Holm). The more she stalks and slays every world’s Neville, the more she risks losing her humanity entirely. Through a narrative foil in Mia (Stella Marcus), Redux Redux smartly bypasses repetition as it explores the moral complexities and vulnerabilities of Irene’s extremely violent quest. Holm becomes utterly terrifying in the climax, ensuring that no matter whether Irene loses herself to vengeance for good or not, it’s justified if it means ridding the world of this sick maniac.
3) 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple
Director Nia DaCosta takes the reins in the second entry in writer Alex Garland and original director Danny Boyle’s trilogy, picking up from the previous conclusion that saw Spike (Alfie Williams) fleeing from the infected straight into the welcoming arms of Sir Jimmy Crystal (Sinners’ Jack O’Connell). From here, DaCosta presents a stark contrast between humanity’s best and worst. The former sees the tender studies of Dr. Kelson (Ralph Fiennes) make poignant strides toward humankind’s future, while the latter unleashes more pain and bloodshed courtesy of the Jimmies. The dual paths of light and dark collide in one epic conclusion, an inspired confrontation between good and evil on a stunning set piece of heavy metal insanity. Yet it’s DaCosta’s handling of both extremes that impresses most, teeing up one epic conclusion to this trilogy.
2) Obsession
Sketch comedian turned horror filmmaker Curry Barker (Milk & Serial) wrings blood-curdling terror from a classic Monkey’s Paw wish fulfillment scenario in a way that no one could have ever anticipated. To say that it’s taken the box office by storm would be a massive understatement; Obsession is the top horror movie of the year in terms of gross. It’s not hard to see why, either. While Monkey’s Paw scenarios often yield predictable outcomes, and this outcome is practically telegraphed from the start, Barker manages to surprise with the journey itself. And it’s one insane journey paved with blood-soaked violence and no shortage of nightmare fuel. What truly sets it apart, though, is leads Michael Johnston and Inde Navarrette as the central pair undone by one vicious wish. Expect to see a lot more from breakout Navarette.
1) Hokum
A surly, traumatized writer must break free from his self-imposed shackles of guilt when confronted by a wicked witch haunting a quaint Irish inn in the latest by writer/director Damian McCarthy (Oddity). Adam Scott’s Ohm makes for an atypical but rewarding protagonist, and his complicated emotional journey gives way to a deeply moving story of a man so thoroughly broken by personal trauma that he constantly dwells in darkness. In true McCarthy style, expect the creepy as hell witch to dole out some supernatural retribution for crimes committed, but never in the way you’d expect. The filmmaker has a way of making whimsy pure nightmare fuel; Hokum distorts a kids’ show into eerie, uncanny valley-induced terror in its torment of Ohm. Channeling Stephen King, this creeper plays like a traditional campfire tale in mood and style, infusing genuine scares with a sense of magic and heart.
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