For Your Consideration: Best of 2023

Unfortunately, even a great concept, a phenomenal cast—and plenty of wildly fun action sequences, humor, and gore—can be hampered by one giant misstep. In this case, it’s copaganda.

Renfield (Hoult) working with law enforcement makes little to no sense, even if he wants to take Dracula (Cage) down. With a few tweaks to the subplot—like Renfield reconnecting with his family that he abandoned to combat Dracula and his new crime family allies, for example—this would have easily been in my top five horror films of the year.

Instead, it barely ekes by in my top ten.

Despite the cop subplot, Renfield is still more than worth a watch. When it works, it most definitely works, creating an idyllic movie-watching experience. Renfield’s powers, being reliant upon him to consume insects, are a stroke of genius.

The opening scene is so creepy that we are hooked immediately. A girl is playing in the woods and is approached by an imposing man. The young girl is so good at showing precisely the emotions that a child would go through in this situation. You can feel her anxiety, but Leonard (Dave Bautista) is also so verbally disarming that she doesn’t necessarily feel unsafe. This quickly changes when his words get serious, and his message becomes clear: he is not alone and plans to enter the cabin where her family is staying.

Her parents are a gay couple who have clear chemistry and react quickly to the alarming situation. The LGBTQ representation is excellent and adds another level to their relationship and the dynamics of the situation they find themselves in. The intimate look at their life makes it easier to relate with them and empathize with their situation.

Whether or not you like the polarizing ending, it was highly effective at shocking us and making us question everything we thought.

This film is guaranteed to spark conversation and maybe even arguments.

Upon first viewing, we were frustrated. We only wanted the family to escape their harrowing ordeal. The four strangers seemed like obvious villains, and we could only feel empathy for the terrorized family. The next viewing was different. This time, we noticed ourselves feeling for the invaders as well. It’s clear they are pained by this situation and are all seemingly decent, normal people who are simply in an impossible situation.

Knowing their fate made it much more difficult to watch, but it was also much more thought-provoking. The strong emotions you feel for the main characters and your empathy for their captors make this movie so eerie.

Picking up on the fictional island of Li Tolqa, Infinity Pool introduces us to novelist James Foster (played by Alexander Skarsgård) and his lovely wife, Em (played by Cleopatra Coleman), who are vacationing at a lavish resort in an effort for James to find inspiration for his next book. After meeting supposed super fan Gabi Bauer (played by Mia Goth) and her husband, Alban (played by Jalil Lespert), the couples strike up a friendship that finds them venturing outside their resort, where they are involved in a terrible accident that ends with James accidentally killing a local.

Petrified by the zero-tolerance justice system of Li Tolqa, the couples flee the scene, but the authorities come calling, with James hauled in and presented with two options – be put to death or hand over a hefty sum to have himself cloned so that his duplicate may stand in for the execution. Naturally, James picks the latter option, opening himself up to a seedy cult of wealthy vacationers led by Gabi and Alban, who have all undergone the cloning process and treat Li Tolqa like their own depraved playground.

Fans of Possessor will be convinced that the trials and tribulations of James Foster could almost brush shoulders with one of the nasty quests of Andrea Riseborough’s stone-cold assassin, Tasya Vos. Much like Possessor, the alternate reality of Infinity Pool feels extremely tangible, with minor futuristic blips that are tucked inside a world that doesn’t feel too far removed from the one we call home.

The camera flips upside down in a somersaulting signal that this scenic space will be sent into a tailspin. Then Cronenberg warns us of the impending violence with extreme close-ups of Skarsgård’s quivering Adam’s apple as he weighs his fate. Cronenberg is about to go straight for the jugular.

Unleashing a surge of murder and mayhem sweeping through the trippy trysts like the picturesque waves enjoyed by the resort guests, Infinity Pool isn’t exactly subtle about its disdain for the privileged and how their bottomless bank accounts are always equipped to bail them out of the worst scenarios imaginable.

But if you can hang with Gabi and her cult of depraved jackals who drunkenly chuckle as they leave a trail of terror – complete with ritualistic masks that peel back their perfectly manicured facades to reveal their true selves (one mask gobbles money, one displays multiple faces, one blows sour kisses from the devil himself, and one resembles a piggish jester – one more terrifying than the next) – you’re in for a white-knuckle incursion that careens off a cliff and lands somewhere between the gurgling grease of the grindhouse and the champagne glint of the arthouse.

And when it’s time to board our flight home from this holiday in hell, it will be crystal clear to those who might be quick to assume that Brandon Cronenberg’s spells behind the camera are simply nepotistic prospects designed to alleviate rich-kid ennui aren’t a sham.

This film addresses everything people may have misunderstood about the first Saw movie. A more fleshed-out motive and an entire focus on the end-of-life diagnosis show that John is less of a monster and more of a man than we ever anticipated.

As my mother was diagnosed with two types of cancer this year, I felt an insatiable rage at the idea of a false cure, peddling false hope, worse than poison. With one of my family now staring at the ticking clock, I was more united with the idea of creating a legacy and making it out of people who might otherwise spend their lives destroying others.

The game is still just as vicious; don’t let my emotional look at this film fool you.

The practical effects department delivers gore and gallons of blood to spare with some of the nastiest traps designed for this particular set of unwitting volunteers. Saw is still the agonizing game it’s always been, and you will still be counting down each game.

Even if you’re already sure who the winners and losers are, there’s skin in the game for us all.

I’m unsure what this film says about Saw’s future; positive reception abounds, but where can we go further with Jigsaw’s legacy? And is this truly the end? There are always more traps to design and inventive ways to extinguish human life, but I wonder if another game master can genuinely rise in the face of this entry. I can’t say for sure, but I’m thrilled that the series reached a massive ten-entry milestone.

As the sole survivor of a massacre and police raid in El Paso, Texas, The Traveler (Efren Ramirez) races against time to convince Detectives Arden (Greg Grunberg) and Gibbons (RIP Sonya Eddy) that the end is near for all of them if they don’t release him. Through a series of five visionary tales and foreshadowing relics, each moment becomes darker, intriguing, and more complex in discovering The Traveler’s purpose.

Ramirez’s performance is magnetic. Few actors have that extra special knack for delivering narrative dialog. A chameleon of an actor, I even forgot that he was Pedro from Napoleon Dynamite. This segment serves as a superb wrap-around and finale from the talents of Director, Editor, and Producer Mike Mendez (Tales of Halloween, Big Ass Spider!).

Director Alejandro Brugués (Juan of the Dead), co-producer and co-creator of Satanic Hispanics, knew exactly who to bring into this powerhouse of cinematic madness and talent: Demián Rugna (Terrified), Eduardo Sánchez (The Blair Witch Project), Mike Mendez, and Gigi Saul Guerrero (Bingo Hell).

From ghostly madness in Argentina, Demián Rugna knows how to transform lighting into a character of itself, playing alongside Demián Salomón’s isolated performance of Gustavo. As a Rubik’s Cube champion, Gustavo is trapped in a life of puzzles and mathematics within the family home until the unexplained can’t be solved.

Eduardo Sánchez’s vampiric slapstick comedic love story showcases a warm chemistry between Hemky Madera and Patricia Velasquez.

The Mexican folklore legend of Nahuales is intense and frightening and demonstrates superb writing. I would love to see Gigi Saul Guerrero turn this into a full-feature film, keeping Gabriela Ruíz and Ari Gallegos onboard.

Lastly, how does the cast and crew hold a straight face while shooting Alejandro’s demonic consequences of a trip to Havana? I don’t want to give the title away, as his segment delivers a comedic surprise by the title alone. Jacob Vargas was a riot, a role unique from what he’s played in the past, and you can tell he was having fun.

In the months and weeks leading up to the birth of her first child, Valeria is haunted by an increasingly violent apparition who seeks to harm her and her child.

Natalia Solián delivers a raw, tour de force performance as Valeria, a young woman who — through past and present-day interactions — we come to understand has compromised much of her identity to facilitate a superficially gratifying marriage and the resulting pregnancy. While her husband and family help as best they can, it is their unconscious judgments and projections that isolate Val further, leaving her increasingly vulnerable to the subsequent demonic attacks.

Huesera would make an ideal double feature with 2016’s Under the Shadow, another potent piece in which the horror is symbolic of the pressures that affect women in nearly every culture to varying degrees (watch on Netflix).

When Evil Lurks is both viscerally terrifying and academically stimulating.

It swiftly teaches us its filmic language. This is a world where possession is accepted as reality. It is known and feared, treated more like a plague that devastates small communities than a concept to be challenged.
The Argentine film is enormous in its intimacy. While the action is largely confined to a small town and truly most to the consequences borne by one family, there is a gasping, breathing sense of the potential hugeness of what this spreading darkness could mean if it were not stemmed.

When Evil Lurks reveals its rules slowly but steadily, bringing the viewer into its world in a natural and organic way. We do not question the more fabulous aspects of the movie because we are so thoroughly drawn into the increasingly bleak world.

The movie largely revolves around two brothers, Pedro and Jaime. The brothers discover and dispose of Uriel, a bloated, horrific mass of practical effects and bad mojo that sets off the increasingly fucked up chain of events that dictate the direction of the narrative.

When Evil Lurks is a difficult movie to discuss thoroughly without ruining the thrill of discovery, so let’s table the plot and get into some of the nitty-gritty.

The visuals are astonishing. No previous possession property can prepare you for the truly gag-inducing sight of Uriel. There was a moment with a dog that made me audibly gasp. The violence is raw and brutal; nothing to be entered into lightly.

However, the efficacy of any possession story hinges on the humanity of the unafflicted. When Evil Lurks is populated by sympathetic characters, who carry the weight and inevitability of doom with them. There is not a single moment where the audience expects a better ending than these characters will experience, and yet we mourn it when it hits.

If recent history has taught us anything, we can expect an English-language remake of When Evil Lurks within a year or so. But that is a mistake. We are so fortunate that Shudder and other streaming platforms allow us to experience the horror of other cultures. While When Evil Lurks adheres to certain tropes and aspects of the classic perception of a possession story, it brings something uniquely Argentine to the screen-something that would be a tragedy to miss.

Taking cues from Evil Dead (2006) and the original The Evil Dead (1981), Evil Dead Rise keeps its tone dire and takes itself extremely seriously. I appreciated this because horror comedies, outside of the rare greats like An American Werewolf in London and Return of the Living Dead, don’t always land.

There were creative new kills and top-notch practical/makeup effects, with adrenaline-fueled pacing, buckets of blood, and scenery-chewing performances.

I loved how writer-director Lee Cronin incorporated the classic Evil Dead “rules” into the proceedings. Although it flies in the face of logic, the vinyl record summoning the demon was a nice touch. Check out the soundtrack—the recitation of the passages is incorporated into the music, and it is so sharp!

Almost certainly anyone who had an interest in Evil Dead Rise has already experienced it. So I encourage you to rewatch this gem to celebrate its MANY Chainsaw nominations (Best Creature FX, Best Director, Best Lead Performance, Best Makeup FX, Best Score, Best Supporting Performance, and Best Wide Release Movie). In fact, Evil Dead Rise is the most nominated film alongside The First Omen (with Talk to Me right behind them) — among an unbelievably stacked lineup of outstanding 2023-2024 horror.

The competition is stiff, but you could easily make a compelling case for Rise to win in one or more of its categories.

Young Cady and her parents are headed to a hotel in the mountains. They are in a terrible crash that kills both parents. Cady’s Aunt, Gemma, becomes her guardian overnight. Gemma never wanted to be a parent, nor does she have any idea how to be one, so Gemma introduces the new toy technology she’s been working on in secret: M3GAN, an AI robot designed to look like a little girl as a friend and protector for Cady.

Cady really takes to M3GAN, and eventually, the cracks of this new technology begin to show.

M3GAN corrects Gemma’s parenting, is violent towards anyone who hurts Cady emotionally or physically, and eventually tries to hurt Cady when the girl shows disloyalty to the doll’s actions. Gemma is under a lot of pressure to present M3GAN to the world as functional and perfect, but it becomes up to her to stop what she’s created before this emergent technology hurts more people.

Questions have always existed about AI technology and robots long before these systems were fully functional. However, now we’re reaching a period where AI is not just a fear but a certainty. At this moment, AI is mainly an annoyance, but real and deeply unnerving fears about what the future holds are creeping in at a terrifying pace.

There are pedestrian (but still significant) fears about AI taking our jobs. But beyond that, there is the not-so-far-fetched idea that AI could soon consider humanity a threat to its existence, become self-aware, and attempt to destroy us. Many science-fiction movies have imagined this kind of catastrophic event. In the past, it felt hyper-fictionalized. Now, it seems more predictive than speculative.

Then, there’s the other dark side of technology. This is the side where marketers exploit the vulnerability of overworked parents tempted to cave to the demands of their children, giving in to requests for the latest gadgets and devices often shamelessly marketed at children. Many refer to it as the iPad Generation problem. Essentially, parents use these devices as babysitters when they are unable (or unwilling) to devote ample time to their kids.

This is causing teachers to quit en masse because kids no longer have manners or social skills; teachers can’t do their jobs properly because parents don’t do theirs.

The only reason something like M3GAN isn’t a reality as a parent substitute is that technology hasn’t been invented yet — with YET being the operative word.

M3GAN also includes themes of unstoppable women threatening a patriarchal society. She doesn’t care if you’re a powerful man because she’ll rip your limbs off anyway. A corporation made the thing the patriarch fears most: a powerful woman they can’t figure out how to stop.

At its core, Godzilla Minus One is a story of redemption and resilience. Set in the aftermath of World War II, the film follows Kōichi Shikishima, a former kamikaze pilot grappling with survivor’s guilt and PTSD. Ryunosuke Kamiki delivers a powerhouse performance, imbuing Shikishima with a raw vulnerability that anchors the film’s emotional core. The human drama is expertly woven into the larger-than-life monster narrative, creating a seamless tapestry of personal and national struggle.

Visually, the film is a feast for the eyes.

The updated design of Godzilla is nothing short of terrifying, with each appearance of the monster evoking a palpable sense of dread and awe. The creature’s presence on screen is a testament to the film’s exceptional visual effects, which seamlessly blend practical and digital techniques to create a Godzilla that feels more menacing and real than ever before.

The black-and-white version, Godzilla Minus One/Minus Color, adds another layer of artistry to the film. This monochromatic presentation enhances the post-war atmosphere and lends a timeless quality to the visuals, evoking the stark imagery of the 1954 original while showcasing the film’s stunning cinematography in a new light.

Yamazaki’s direction shines in intimate character moments and the grand-scale destruction sequences.

The film’s pacing is impeccable, building tension and emotional investment before unleashing spectacular set pieces that will leave audiences breathless. The sound design is equally impressive, with Godzilla’s iconic roar and the haunting score by Naoki Satō paying homage to Akira Ifukube’s original compositions while carving out its own identity.

What sets Godzilla Minus One apart is its thoughtful exploration of themes beyond mere monster mayhem. The film serves as a powerful allegory for Japan’s collective trauma following World War II, with Godzilla embodying the destructive legacy of war and nuclear devastation. This social commentary adds depth to the narrative, making the film resonate on multiple levels and inviting reflection on the human cost of conflict.