Editorials
The ‘Thir13en Ghosts’ Remake Ushered Old-School Horror Into a New Millennium [Revenge of the Remakes]
Welcome to Revenge of the Remakes, where columnist Matt Donato takes us on a journey through the world of horror remakes. We all complain about Hollywood’s lack of originality whenever studios announce new remakes, reboots, and reimaginings, but the reality? Far more positive examples of refurbished classics and updated legacies exist than you’re willing to remember (or admit). The good, the bad, the unnecessary – Matt’s recounting them all.
I am so exhausted by complaints about how the 2000s horror era was a wasteland of unoriginality and recycled cash-ins. We’ll save the post-9/11 “torture porn” discussions for another column (or when relevant here). My frustration stems from the idea that remakes were the bane of horror cinema for almost a decade. You know this, you’re here every month riding shotgun on this journalistic adventure. I mean, how can you watch Steve Beck’s Thir13en Ghosts and whine about studios rehashing older titles for a second go-around like they’re creatively bankrupt?
It wasn’t long ago that Revenge of the Remakes glommed onto The Blob, which is appropriate since Thir13en Ghosts shares similar “remake reasoning” in terms of justification (for those who need that). William Castle’s 13 Ghosts dates back to 1960, and the Dark Castle reinvigoration lands more than forty years later. Technological advancement alone brings enough validation to the table, given decades of cinematic evolution as commonplace as colorized projections. As horror fans already know, the American-Canadian aughts classic—yes, CLASSIC—challenges audiences not only through its nightmarish Black Zodiac roster but an extravagant desire to honor Robb White’s core screenplay while embracing the fiesta that is differentiation.
So crank the nu-metal, kiddies—it’s time to relive one of my favorite horror titles from the 2000s.
The Approach
The starkest distinction between 1960’s 13 Ghosts and 2001’s Thir13en Ghosts (besides that exxxtreme number inclusion in the title) is the personality of the titular ghosts. William Castle commands more of a funhouse atmosphere where mustachioed supernatural chefs hurl plates like playful poltergeists, where Steve Beck oversees a roster of wayward souls who only comprehend the calming effect of grotesque violence. The death of J.R. Bourne’s estate manager so early in Thir13en Ghosts is a tremendous contrast to Martin Milner’s Benjamin Rush, who becomes the “surprise” villain in 13 Ghosts. Writers Neal Marshall Stevens and Richard D’Ovidio adapt an original tale about greed overshadowing spectral curiosity and generate the haunted house vibes we’d expect via spiritual threats—no doubt influenced by 2001’s ability to sell the ghastliest of tormented ghouls.
Enter Tony Shalhoub as Arthur Kriticos, the remake’s patriarch who inherits his deceased uncle Cyrus Kriticos’ (F. Murray Abraham) elaborate glassy complex. Daughter Kathy (Shannon Elizabeth), son Bobby (Alec Roberts), and nanny Maggie (Rah Digga) are given a tour by Cyrus’ lawyer Ben Moss (J.R. Bourne) of this labyrinthian manor that almost resembles a functioning contraption on a massive scale. Psychic Dennis Rafkin (Matthew Lillard) sneaks into the house with a pair of Cyrus’ ghost-seeing specs and is horrified to discover all the nastiest souls they collected together are contained in the basement—until Mr. Money-Hungry Lawyer unwittingly sets them all free. Thus begins Arthur’s quest to save his family, avoid the Black Zodiac prisoners, and prevent Cyrus’ whirring, reorganizing trap of a homestead from opening an eye into Hell.
All the hallmarks of 13 Ghosts exist. Cyrus Kriticos is the Dr. Plato Zorba role, cheekily referencing Castle’s protagonist, Cyrus Zorba (Donald Woods). An estranged uncle bequeaths his homemade abattoir to an unsuspecting nephew whose poverty-stricken family becomes sacrificial inhabitants unaware of a grander ritualistic scheme. Both adolescent boys—Buck (Charles Herbert) in the ‘60s iteration—harbor an obsession with death, although Buck is more of a conduit where Bobby can be seen as a scampering victim. Buck uses the special ghost-seeing glasses to interact with floaters on a friendly level, watching headless lion tamers put on a show, while the ‘01 version drenches audiences in a constant state of unrest. Castle operates within his generational constraints to support the film’s earthly evils—Beck slices to the core of fear, still retaining that human folly but adhering to stricter, far bleaker usages of unquiet souls.
Does It Work?
Does The Angry Princess enjoy crimson tub soaks? I’m going to channel The Blob once again because both remakes succeed on similar grounds. The tethers that connect 13 Ghosts and Thir13en Ghosts are thinner than piano wire and yet hold stronger than chain links. General horror fans might not even know William Castle’s 13 Ghosts exists—or at the least have no nostalgia for the property—which permits Neal Marshall Stevens and Richard D’Ovidio a bit more freedom for original twists. There’s never a ripoff or shot-for-shot snicker. Go ahead and compare the film’s opening sequences, one a museum chat about the La Brea Tar Pits, the other a junkyard massacre with a liquid transport truck spewing blood and a magical containment unit.
One might assume going the gnarlier, more macabre horror route in 2001’s reanimation might dull the moral intrigue at stake. Steve Beck’s Black Zodiac is a lineup of monsters all primed for personalized spin-offs versus the more modestly costumed apparitions inserted via early photo-overlay filmmaker tricks. The fear is that mean mugs and destructive appetites might distract from Arthur’s familial gauntlet—tying his late wife to the Black Zodiac—but core development still centers around man’s obsession with a replaceable “something.” Money. Power. It’s all the same whether that’s Benjamin’s sleuthing for Plato’s fortune (and willingness to crush Buck in a collapsing bed device) or Cyrus’ fake-out in an attempt to see the past, present, and future using his Latin-inscribed facility. The degrees to which both frighteners lash out are on opposite spectrums, but the ending remains the same as in 2001’s finale—Cyrus’ afterlife hostages are freed from their purgatorial torment.
The addition of Arthur’s marital tragedy treads dangerously overdramatic waters, but the power of the ‘00s endures. It’s a vibe still influenced by the Wild West that is ‘90s horror with a bit more reverence. There’s a sincerity to Arthur’s movin’ on up into Cyrus’ upgraded lifestyle, but also a commitment to the graveyard maniacs that impatiently wait within. Better yet, Thir13en Ghosts understands what horror fans want and provides by any means necessary. Danger remains paramount as the invisible inmates escape their asylum walls, and locked eyes with any of Cyrus’ subjects requires immediate panic. One might lament the lack of bite in 13 Ghosts, which Thir13en Ghosts rectifies out the gate while achieving the grandest levels of scream-in-your-seat enjoyment.
The Result
I mean, Thir13en Ghosts rips or slaps or whatever the newest internet lingo might say. From the opening shot, it’s like the ripcord on a chainsaw is revved, and the gas tank never empties (ignore electric models for this metaphor). It’s what I’d describe as comfort horror not because I ever feel safe, but more because whenever I’m in the mood for some boilerplate, dictionary definition horror, Thir13en Ghosts is that stability selection. Production design goes above and beyond to ensure you feel as trapped as doomed characters. Practical effects demonstrate why flesh-and-prosthetics monsters will always be superior to animated pixels. Thir13en Ghosts is a big-budget, high-concept horror blockbuster that leaves a lasting impression. Unfortunately, its tragic $68m gross on a $42m budget is a legitimate failure of the horror community (and push towards studios striving for lower budgets with higher rewards).
Should we be surprised Greg Nicotero and Robert Kurtzman brought Thir13en Ghosts to life (er, back from the dead)? The Black Zodiac features creations that mark the pinnacle of what makeup artists and special effects warehouses had to offer at the time (and still hold up stupendously). I think of The Hammer with railroad spikes puncturing beefy biceps or The Torso, played by Daniel Wesley, a double amputee. It’s no exaggeration to dub The Angry Princess iconic with her full-frontal gashes or The Jackal legendary with his beastly savagery and that broken cage over his head as a useless precaution. Thir13en Ghosts is a showcase for cosmetic applications in the horror genre and feeds off each ghost’s presence in the same way horror fans appreciate kitchen-sink approaches like Cabin In The Woods. The Black Zodiac is some Hall of Fame composition, along with Ben Moss’ sliding-door demise where he’s halved side-to-side. The howl I let out every time Ben’s front half slips to reveal his exposed insides as the back follows shortly after is a distinct pleasure.
If you’re not into Matthew Lillard playing a smartass psychic ghost-hunter who despises jump scares despite constantly putting the see-all glasses on right in front of ghosties, I have questions. There are absolutely some quintessential ‘00s horror performances between rapper Rah Digga as the “oh hell no” nanny or Shannon Elizabeth’s older sister routine. Still, they fit within the tonality of Steve Beck’s direction. A world where discarded automobiles devour Cyrus’ lackeys like they’re eating a snack or quicksilver flares repel dead-but-furious attackers tearing fathers to shreds with berzerker abandon. So is it a peculiar choice to end the film on Digga’s character muttering jokes about babysitting not being worth her night in a madman’s graveyard zoo? I thought so until I watched 13 Ghosts go out with a wink as the haggard caretaker grabs a broom to all but confirm she’s an actual witch.
The Lesson
Stop doubting 2000s horror! We get stuck in the generalization that everything was either another futile attempt at banking on existing IPs or another Saw ripoff. Were there countless? No argument. Does that mean an entire class of horror films like Thir13en Ghosts, Stay Alive, and House On Haunted Hill (close enough) are unceremoniously lumped in as well? Every damn time. Steve Beck handles Thir13en Ghosts as a remake with a clean slate, ushering old-school horror into a new millennium with infinitely more malice but the same focus on mortal ugliness. The ghosts, after all, are just prisoners of Cyrus—aka the John Hammond of Neal Marshall Stevens and Richard D’Ovidio’s narrative.
Oh, did I not get into my rant about how Thir13en Ghosts is pretty much Jurassic Park? I’ll save that bite for another month or a Twitter thread.
What did we learn?
- The more time that passes, the more remakes can assert themselves.
- If you have Greg Nicotero working in your effects department, you’re on the right path.
- The characterization of monsters is just as crucial as your heroes and anti-heroes.
- We’re never going to forget the Black Zodiac.
- The best remakes are viewed as tributes that eventually veer down unique explorations or further enrich existing story bones.
The more I cover 2000s horror remakes, the more I’m furious over the snobbish disregard around opinions of this era’s genre output. Thir13en Ghosts is one of those titles I slam into my Blu-ray player whenever someone makes the mistake of admitting it’s a blind spot, with no fault to the new viewer. Critics and audiences turned their back on horror in the 2000s, and now’s the time for a reclamation. Start by celebrating the ones that deserve your apologies most, like Thir13en Ghosts.
On July 13th, 2026, the world lost one of its brightest stars.
Beloved New Zealand actor Sam Neill passed away from pneumonia after a long battle with stage 3 lymphoma. The multifaceted movie star will be remembered by mainstream audiences for his iconic role as Dr. Alan Grant in Steven Spielberg’s 1993 masterpiece Jurassic Park, as well as powerful turns in A Cry in the Dark (1988), The Piano (1993), and Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016), and prestige TV series The Tudors and Peaky Blinders. But horror fans know him as one of the genre’s most surprising Scream Kings.
Through a handful of memorable starring roles, Neill spent the 80s and 90s bringing life to a wide variety of characters and finding humanity in the most unusual leading roles, regardless of how heroic or villainous.
The Final Conflict (1981)
After a decade on the stage and screen in New Zealand and Australia, Neill made his international debut as Damien Thorn in Graham Baker’s The Final Conflict, the third installment of The Omen franchise. Now a 36-year-old businessman, Damien is fully aware of his devilish parentage and hell-bent on world domination. But rather than a hooved and horned monstrosity, Neill’s Antichrist is a suave businessman who leads his followers in an expensive suit and seeks to bring about the apocalypse through deceptive altruism rather than grand proclamation.
Despite his austere demeanor, the man’s true evil knows no bounds. When a prophecy foretells the second coming of Christ, known in the film as “the Nazarene,” Damien commands his followers to commit widespread infanticide, murdering all baby boys born on a specific date. He seduces a high-profile reporter while transforming her teenage son into a bloodthirsty disciple, then uses the child as a human shield. This tricky role allows Neill to demonstrate his trademark versatility, easily charming the outside world while dropping his suave mask of normalcy behind closed doors. Though certain aspects of The Final Conflict are admittedly dated, Neill’s performance feels eerily prescient. He’s mastered the heinous portrayal of a politician willing to sell his soul for power that will ultimately bring about the end of the world.
Possession (1981)
Though Andrzej Żuławski’s Possession is often remembered for Isabelle Adjani’s stunning depiction of a woman on the edge, Neill delivers an equally unhinged performance as Mark, a spy returning home from a lengthy assignment in divided Berlin. Upon discovering that his wife Anna (Adjani) wants a divorce, Mark desperately tries to hold his family together even at the expense of her sanity. Filmed the same year as The Final Conflict, Neill dives headfirst into this visceral role, managing to evoke sympathy for the distraught father who becomes ever more desperate to regain control. Inspired by his own divorce, Żuławski resists blaming either party for the separation, instead showing the chaos and heartache that comes in the wake of a family’s dissolution.
Once considered to replace Roger Moore as the next James Bond, Neill has fun with the international spy persona as Żuławski’s plot grows increasingly bizarre. But the skilled actor never lets us forget that Mark is a flawed human being struggling to keep his life from falling apart. A second character emerges in the film’s mesmerizing climax, allowing Neill to lean into full villainy with a glassy-eyed stare that chills to the bone. Now a cult classic, Adjani and Neill bounce off each other’s seething rage, creating one of the most effective cinematic duets in the history of horror.
Jurassic Park (1993)
When Steven Spielberg’s creature feature first hit theaters, Neill was by no means a household name and hardly a traditional leading man. Without the swashbuckling swagger of Harrison Ford, the mega-watt smile of Tom Cruise, or the chiselled jaw of Brad Pitt — all famous action stars of the era — Neill felt like an unconventional choice for this massive role. But he perfectly captures the essence of Grant, an aloof academic who prefers dig sites to fancy fundraisers and social events. Despite an aversion to children, the dinosaur expert finds himself tasked with saving the theme park’s youngest survivors who gradually break down his emotional walls. Grant’s transformation into a courageous caretaker is a landmark deconstruction of traditional gender norms wrapped in the guise of a rugged outdoorsman.
Neill proves to be the perfect action star, effortlessly navigating Spielberg’s stunning set pieces without losing the character’s relatable hook. But perhaps the film’s most touching moment is Neill’s childlike wonder at seeing a dinosaur for the first time. Stunned to speechlessness, he channels the audience’s wondrous joy when Grant first spies a real, live Brachiosaurus. But he seamlessly weaves this infectious awe into serious concerns about the creature’s existence, amplifying the story’s prophetic messaging. Jeff Goldblum may utter the film’s iconic warning, but the duality of Grant’s performance perfectly illustrates the scientific imperative, reminding us that just because we can doesn’t mean we should.
Neill would go on to lead Joe Johnston’s 2001 sequel Jurassic Park III, in which Grant is again tasked with saving a child. In 2022, he would appear in Colin Trevorrow’s legacy sequel Jurassic World Dominion, which merges the franchise’s two distinct eras while bringing the carnage onto mainland shores. Despite turning in strong performances, neither film is able to top the magic of Spielberg’s original or Neill’s captivating performance as the stoic leading man. But his nuanced depiction of Alan Grant inspired a generation of would-be paleontologists and quiet kids who could now see themselves as courageous academics capable of surprising strength.
In the Mouth of Madness (1994)
After catapulting to worldwide fame, Neill returned to horror proper to lead John Carpenter’s mind-bending In the Mouth of Madness. We first meet John Trent (Neill) as he’s dragged, kicking and screaming, into a padded cell. An unknown stretch of time later, he recounts an unbelievable story while covered in protective crosses scrawled into his skin — and the cell’s walls — with black crayon. A private investigator, Trent has been tasked with locating Sutter Cane (Jürgen Prochnow), a world-famous yet elusive genre author whose work has been driving his ravenous readers to disturbing acts of random violence.
A love letter to fans of horror fiction, we delight in watching Trent explore literary easter eggs that lead him down jarring rabbit holes. A late-night road trip takes Trent and Linda Styles (Julie Carmen), an editor for Cane’s publishing house, to a tiny New England hamlet teeming with darkness. While investigating an ominous cathedral on the outskirts of town, Trent realizes that he’s somehow been transported into the author’s interdimensional story and become its unwitting protagonist.
Neill serves as a skeptical everyman and the audience’s conduit through this bizarre tale of literary monsters that find a way to burst through the page. An often overlooked Carpenter film, In the Mouth of Madness spirals into insanity, but Neill keeps us grounded throughout each outlandish twist. A shocking conclusion leaves us gaping at our screens and contemplating our own relationship with horror fiction. After all, does free will truly exist? Or, like Trent, are we merely pawns in someone else’s monstrous creation?
Event Horizon (1997)
One of the scariest movies ever set in space, Paul W.S. Anderson’s Event Horizon builds upon the heroic image Neill established for himself in Jurassic Park. Dr. William Weir (Neill) is a physicist temporarily joining the crew of the Lewis and Clark to assist in their latest rescue mission. Seven years after vanishing without a trace, a spaceship called the Event Horizon has suddenly reappeared near Neptune’s orbit. As the creator of a top-secret gravity drive designed to facilitate faster-than-light travel, Dr. Weir has been sent to explore the ship and find out what happened to its missing crew.
Still haunted by his late wife’s suicide, Dr. Weir is a sympathetic figure, particularly in comparison to the harsh Captain Miller (Laurence Fishburne) who commands the crew of the Lewis and Clark. But Weir’s desperation to return to the infamous ship hides a sinister secret that leads his fellow astronauts to the threshold of hell. Neill’s talent for playing the everyman pays off in spades as the formerly sympathetic widower transforms into a disciple of this frightening dimension. Resembling a long-lost cenobite, Weir claws out his own eyes and prepares to drag the crew into a world consumed with sadistic pain.
Daybreakers (2009)
Neill returns to his Omen roots in Michael and Peter Spierig’s action-packed film as a secretly sinister businessman. But rather than the Antichrist, Charles Bromley (Neill) is a proud vampire convinced of the species’ superiority. With human blood in short supply, Bromley Marks Corp. is working on a synthetic substitute to prevent the human race from impending extinction. While hematologists perfect the formula, Bromley oversees disturbing fields of humans chained to massive machines that systematically harvest their blood.
Neill chills in this sinister role with vampiric yellow eyes, a pale complexion, and subtle fangs. But more upsetting is the fact that he honestly doesn’t believe he’s wrong. Once diagnosed with cancer, Bromley was delighted to find that vampirism would totally reverse his illness and grant him the gift of eternal life. He begged his daughter Alison (Isabel Lucas) to turn alongside him, but she has rejected her father’s controversial choice and is now hunted by his bloodthirsty goons. In a heartbreaking moment of clarity, Bromley brings his daughter to the brink of death, then turns away in disgust when she will not embrace his undead lifestyle.
Daybreakers is a surprisingly thrilling exploration of survival and sustainability. Similar to a plot Damien Thorn would hatch, Bromley’s ultimate plan is to placate the vampire population with synthetic blood while allowing the human population to replenish itself. With a larger stock, he plans to sell authentic humans at a premium, hunting these poor souls to season the meat. Bromley rejects a cure that would reverse the vampiric disease, choosing to enrich himself over saving the world. The strangely captivating villain’s end is a cathartic nightmare and fitting punishment for a wealthy man who places himself above everyone else.
In the Mouth of Madness
While the world may remember Neill for his signature role as a gruff but compassionate paleontologist going head to head with a raging T-Rex, horror fans may picture the versatile actor maniacally rocking back and forth in a filthy Berlin apartment, commanding a boardroom of corporate vampires, disappearing into the darkness of a haunted spaceship, sermonizing to satanists, or giggling over popcorn in a deserted movie theater. Or perhaps you have another favorite role in the beloved actor’s stellar career. But whether he was playing a hero or villain, Neill brought undeniable humanity to every role, redefining our idea of masculinity and the very nature of goodness vs. evil. By bringing such disparate characters to life, Neill challenged audiences with a variety of complex roles, asking us to examine the humanity of each character no matter how flawed or virtuous.
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