Everyone remembers their first horror movie.
Maybe it was at a sleepover where everyone insisted they weren’t scared. Maybe it was sneaking to the theatre to catch a film you weren’t allowed to watch as a child. Horror has always been a communal experience — a genre passed around through hushed recommendations, shared dares and dark living rooms.
My first horror film memory was catching The Exorcist (1973) on television with my cousins, knowing full well we weren’t supposed to be watching it. We’d scream at the jump scares, laugh immediately afterwards, then spend the rest of the night dissecting every scene and convincing each other we could definitely sleep with the lights off.
That was followed by years of movie marathons of horror movies. I barely remember every plot detail. What I remember is the feeling: the anticipation, the adrenaline and the thrill of being scared together.
From box-office blockbusters to online fandoms, horror has become the genre that best captures the fears and anxieties of our times
Horror has long held a unique place in the realm of entertainment, thriving not just as a cinematic experience but as a deeply communal one. The thrill of horror lies not solely in the films themselves; it’s equally found in the shared experience of gripping fear, the cathartic laughter that follows each jump scare, and the animated discussions that ensue long after the movie ends.
HORROR’S BOX OFFICE MOMENT
No genre has defined the 2026 box office quite like horror, with multiple releases crossing the $200 million mark worldwide and contributing to Hollywood’s strongest theatrical recovery since the pandemic.
While horror has always thrived as a fringe genre with its own cult following, it has never received the critical acclaim it does today. Sinners and Weapons were not only the biggest blockbusters last year, they also received widespread critical acclaim, earning Academy Awards for best actor for Michael B. Jordan for his portrayal of twins Smokes and Stack and best supporting actress for Amy Madigan as Aunt Gladys.
In 2026 so far, horror movies such as Obsession, Backrooms, Hokum, Scream 7 and Scary Movie have dominated the pop culture discourse. The most intriguing aspect is that the two biggest hits, Obsession and Backrooms, are created by Gen Z directors who are disrupting the box office with their independent horror films made with meagre budgets.
HORROR AS A MIRROR OF SOCIETY
The resurgence of horror reflects far more than an appetite for scares. Horror has always held up a mirror to society to reflect its prevalent fears and anxieties.
A 2026 research study titled ‘Consuming fear as entertainment: horror movies, youth culture and the social production of fear in contemporary media contexts’ found, through audience-centred approaches, that viewers actively construct meaning from movies, engaging with narratives through interpretation, negotiation and contextual understanding.
This is why movies of every region, including many non-Western ones, develop horror narratives that often intersect with local myths, religious beliefs and supernatural imaginaries, making them particularly resonant and meaningful for audiences.
Each major era of horror cinema reflects the collective anxieties of its time. In the early 20th century, horror was shaped by the looming threat of industrialisation, war and bodily fragility. Films of this period, such as The Phantom of the Opera (1925), often centred on deformity, death and the instability of the human body, mirroring a society grappling with rapid technological change and the trauma of war.
By the mid-20th century, horror shifted inward, reflecting deeper psychological and social unease. As post-war societies confronted shifting gender roles, a rising consumer culture and questions of individual identity, the genre became preoccupied with paranoia, repression and moral instability.
Psycho (1960) and Rosemary’s Baby (1968) depict this change through stories in which the threat is no longer external but embedded within domestic life, institutions and the psyche itself. These films capture a growing sense that the familiar — home, marriage, community — could no longer be fully trusted, turning horror into a mirror of societal uncertainty.
Horror in the modern era is no longer about evil spirits or monsters that lurk in the shadows. It concerns spaces and systems that become hazardous. These days, the ‘monster’ is a regular person who participates in the structures that support discrimination, patriarchy and oppression.
The Substance (2024) and The Neon Demon (2016) are two well-known examples of body horror films that highlight the extremes people will go to for vanity. Through a horror lens, Get Out (2017), Us (2019) and Sinners (2025) skilfully addressed racism, cultural appropriation and prejudice.
Weapons’ release last year sparked several think pieces and Reddit conversations about its meaning. Overall, it was about how society ignores indicators of abuse and neglect towards the most vulnerable section of society — children.
GEN Z AND THE RISE OF LIMINAL HORROR
Today’s horror films have become a medium for exploring personal and collective anxieties surrounding identity, technology, isolation, social fragmentation, and the uncertainty of modern life. As the world grows more unstable, horror has become one of cinema’s most revealing cultural mirrors. Gen Z is driving the genre’s popularity through theatrical attendance and online fan culture.
This year, Backrooms and Hokum explored the malevolence of liminal spaces and the crimes they hide. The claustrophobia resonates with the audience, evoking a sense of being trapped in a system with no exit in sight. Obsession, the breakout success of the year, has emerged as a cultural phenomenon. The audience resonated with the themes of incel culture (an online subculture of primarily young, heterosexual men who identify as ‘involuntarily celibate’) and relationship issues at play, with the movie cleverly subverting the crazy girlfriend trope and interrogating themes of coercion and consent in romantic relationships.
The entire audience in the crowded theatre where I saw the film was made up of young couples who were laughing at every allusion to a common relationship problem that arose in a scene. Additionally, Obsession gained momentum on social media due to thousands of memes and reels about its scenes, as well as viral analyses of specific scenes.
Horror, in particular, stands out as a genre that aligns perfectly with this engaging cultural exploration. Films like Backrooms and Obsession not only captivate but also reward attentive audiences, inviting them to peel into layers of complexity with layered symbolism, ambiguous narratives and details that invite repeat viewings.
As the first generation to grow up in a digitally connected, algorithm-driven world, Gen Z rarely consumes culture passively. Fashion trends, Taylor Swift lyrics, television and films are endlessly dissected for symbolism, hidden meanings, and Easter eggs. In many ways, interpretation has become a form of participation.
This phenomenon reflects a deeper quest than mere internet sleuthing. In a culture rife with misinformation, AI-generated content and cultural cynicism, decoding has become a vital tool for seeking authenticity, fostering community, and claiming ownership of narratives. Online fandoms have transformed from mere consumers of media into active investigators, debaters and co-creators of meaning.
The conversation doesn’t end when the credits roll; it migrates online, where Letterboxd reviews, YouTube video essays, Reddit threads and TikTok theories transform horror into an ongoing cultural discourse.
The genre no longer thrives solely on fear — it thrives on interpretation.
The writer is a clinical psychologist and a freelance journalist writing for several international publications. She can be reached at rabeea.saleem21@gmail.com
Published in Dawn, ICON, July 5th, 2026