Editorials
‘Death Weekend’: Canadian Exploitation and Rural Revenge [Horrors Elsewhere]
Horrors Elsewhere is a recurring column that spotlights a variety of movies from all around the globe, particularly those not from the United States. Fears may not be universal, but one thing is for sure — a scream is understood, always and everywhere.
Content Warning: This article discusses sexual assault.
Black Christmas, The Changeling, and Prom Night prevail in discussions of classic Canadian horror because of their international renown. When analyzing the less obvious, home-grown horrors from the “Canuxploitation” era — low-budget, genre flicks made between the late 1970s and early 1980s — one director’s name tends to come up again and again. William Fruet is responsible for a handful of notable “B” movies of yesteryear; Blue Monkey, Funeral Home, Killer Party, Spasms, and Trapped all have that touch of weirdness the filmmaker is known for. Yet before audiences ever laid eyes on those Canadian curios, Fruet teamed up with future Ghostbusters director Ivan Reitman to produce the best film of his career.
The 1976 film Death Weekend takes place in the tranquil Ontario countryside. Diane (Brenda Vaccaro) is accompanying her date, a dentist named Harry (Chuck Shamata), to his isolated estate when she attracts the unwanted attention of another car. Diane responds to the catcalls by running the other party, a Camaro loaded with four drunken bumpkins, off the road and into a creek. The incensed men then discover the couple’s whereabouts and crash the party, looking to enact revenge on the woman who humiliated them.
City folks finding trouble in their new, bucolic surroundings because they cannot acclimate is a common theme among all horror. The 1970s ran away with this idea and refused to treat it with kid gloves. In the case of Death Weekend, the two urbanites waste no time when it comes to offending the locals. Diane asks to drive Harry’s Corvette, and once she takes over, she reveals her lead foot. Promptly, the film’s villains — a quartet of goons led by Don Stroud’s Lep — show up and egg Diane into a race. Instead of ignoring her harassers, the protagonist gives them a taste of their own medicine. And as is the practice in these narratives, Diane wrongly assumes she is afforded the same protections as someone in the city; she never stops to think maybe her safety is not guaranteed out here in the boonies. Meanwhile, Harry is the more cautious of the two main characters, seeing as he visits the area enough to have a faint grasp of the social order. Although his trepidation is not necessarily out of respect for the lifers either.
With authentic grindhouse productions, viewers have come to expect the discolored and sometimes splotchy aesthetic along with an intentionally drab presentation. A dismal display better emphasizes the frequently heinous and inhuman acts waiting to unfold within. Director of photography Robert Saad, on the other hand, tweaks the formula without sacrificing the need to reflect the story’s eventual discomfort and rawness through appearance. Death Weekend looks relatively brighter than its peers; the outdoors plays a large role in the film. The November weather is in full effect as sparse greenery pokes through the otherwise extremely autumnal exterior. The sun shines down on a good part of the film, expunging any notion that bad things can only happen in the dark. Fruet’s movie indeed looks warm and soft, if not yellowy and overexposed. In spite of the general gleam, there is a particular lack of vivid colors other than Lep’s eye-grabbingly red Camaro. After all, it would only make sense that his most significant belonging is so flashy and vibrant; it is the one bright spot in his dreary life.
What improves the overly familiar story of Death Weekend is Fruet’s attention to the three leads. The filmmaker does not write them as vacuous characters. First off, Harry may not be a degenerate like Lep and his pals, but he is also far from being the decent type. Early conversations with Diane reveal he is entitled and materialistic; he makes assumptions about how this weekend is going to play out. When Diane denies him the pleasure, he throws a tantrum and tells her to walk home. His remorse is short-lived once Lep and his fellow hosers arrive, and he shows more concern for his house and possessions than Diane’s welfare. Harry goes against type in these kinds of movies where the man is above all protective of his loved ones. In contrast, he is here to underscore the perceptible social disparity between himself and the antagonists. Harry might have grown up poor — on the topic of money, he tells Diane “having it is a hell of a lot better than not having it” — but new wealth has made him forget his roots or how to treat someone as disadvantaged as Lep, who could very well be him had things turned out differently in life.
Lep is an unsociable misogynist and an all-around bad guy with sycophants for friends. His grievance is initially with Diane, but after seeing Harry’s expensive house and goods, he is triggered. Harry throwing money at the problem does not help matters; now Lep feels like less of a person and more of a nuisance. Financial reparation for his car’s damages means nothing in comparison to the pain he can inflict on Harry. Lep assumes Harry feels superior in both class and power, and therefore, he wants to bring him down to his level. Once he realizes Diane is of less importance to him than his house and property, Lep takes to destroying that. For all his deplorable behaviors, Lep is at the very least smarter and more insightful than others give him credit for.
Death Weekend being obscure means people will miss out on Vaccaro’s portrayal of Diane. Her impressive range transforms Diane into a conscious character who is not only charming and smart but also uncertain and vulnerable. Fruet’s heroine is never outmatched in either mind or body; she refuses to compromise herself with Harry, and when it comes to her victimizers, Diane does not go down without a fight. Her ability to fix and hotwire cars is convenient to the plot, but it also establishes Diane is independent and resourceful. Her initiative is what saves her in the end, whereas someone with a limited imagination like Harry does not fare too well when things get messy.
While Fruet does not overlook the inherent brutality of rape, he does aim at creating nuance. Diane “detaches” in one instance and then complies during another so she can make her first move toward survival. As Diane faces off with Lep in the tool shed, she eventually stops fighting back and succumbs to stillness and a searching stare. This behavior only assuages the rapist, who is rendered impotent by Diane’s sudden passivity. Before one of the other men has his way with Diane in a locked bedroom later on, he first forces her to style herself. Once she is to his liking, Diane submits to her attacker in order to carry out the inevitable revenge portion of the film. Watching Diane drown one guy in a bog and blow up another is indeed gratifying. Nevertheless, she is not actually seeking vengeance; Diane kills because it is the only way she can escape.
Fruet’s first horror film inhales a significant amount of inspiration from Straw Dogs and grindhouse benchmark, The Last House on the Left. In fact, Reitman managed to double-bill it with Craven’s 1972 movie in the U.S. There it proved to be fairly popular at the drive-ins under its new title, The House by the Lake. Back home, however, critics treated it no differently than other domestic horrors they disavowed. Such is the case with panned genre offerings from back then, Death Weekend is now finally getting the adulation it deserves, albeit at a slower rate compared to films of a similar age and quality. Those in its corner recognize and promote the movie for its skilled cast, layered writing, and a considerable amount of intelligence not always synonymous with “B” movies.
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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