What is Art-Horror?


Have you ever come across the term “elevated horror” or heard people talk about “smart” horror films more frequently in recent years? That’s no coincidence. Since the early 2010s, a specific horror subgenre has been gaining momentum—one that’s hard to define. My mission: Forget vague labels like “elevated” or “smart.” Instead, remember the term “Art-Horror.” Here’s why.


Art-Horror: A New Wave of Horror Films

Over the past decade, the horror genre has experienced something of a renaissance in cinema. This revival began with films like It Follows (2014) by David Robert Mitchell and The Babadook (2014) by Jennifer Kent. In both movies, horror serves less as a conventional scare tactic and more as a stylistic choice—used to heighten the emotional impact of their narratives. These films set the stage for a new wave of horror, inspiring works like The Invitation (2015) by Karyn Kusama, The Blackcoat’s Daughter (2015) by Osgood Perkins, and It Comes at Night (2017) by Trey Edward Shults.

Yet, within this modern horror movement, two filmmakers stand out above the rest. Robert Eggers stunned audiences with his atmospheric folk horror film The Witch (2015), only to raise expectations even further with the eerie, surreal The Lighthouse (2019). Meanwhile, Ari Aster left moviegoers shaken with his psychological horror-drama Hereditary (2018). Just a year later, he took audiences on a disturbing, sun-drenched nightmare with Midsommar (2019).

Critics were overwhelmingly enthusiastic, and while these films achieved moderate box office success, they often divided mainstream audiences. This is evident in their CinemaScore ratings (a U.S. audience grading scale from A+ to F). Hereditary received a D+, Midsommar a C+, and The Witch a C-. Other films like It Comes at Night (D) faced similar reactions.

However, for film enthusiasts and progressive horror fans, these independent directors were a breath of fresh air—rejecting Hollywood’s commercial horror formulas in favor of bold, original storytelling. As I argue in my book Art-Horror (2022), horror has never been this inventive and compelling.

Horror as a Means to an End

Another defining trait of these films? The director and screenwriter are often the same person. These (mostly young) filmmakers want complete creative control over their stories, shaping them from start to finish. Each of them wrote their screenplay alone or collaborated with a co-writer, a testament to how deeply personal these films are. And when you watch them, that personal touch is unmistakable. Their stories feel raw, intimate—almost as if the directors themselves have lived through these experiences and are now sharing them with an audience that doesn’t yet fully exist. Often, this is done with an astonishing, sometimes unsettling attention to detail.

Speaking of detail—there’s one crucial aspect that sets these films apart: The story and its themes take precedence over traditional genre conventions. These filmmakers aren’t simply making horror movies; they’re using horror as a tool—a flexible framework that they adapt, reinterpret, and mold to serve their unique artistic visions. They are both selfish and creative, unbound by genre constraints. For them, horror is nothing more than a stylistic vehicle—a means to tell deeply personal, often unconventional narratives.

Why “Elevated Horror” is the Wrong Term

The term “elevated horror” first emerged in the early 2010s, introduced by Simon Oakes, CEO of the revived Hammer Films (established in 2006). It was meant to describe this new wave of horror films, but the label quickly became controversial.

Horror fans were outraged, viewing it as yet another attempt to dismiss the genre as lowbrow or unrefined. To them, the term implied that mainstream critics despised horror so much that, whenever they unexpectedly enjoyed a horror film, they had to categorize it as something else. Thus, “elevated horror” became a convenient way to distance these films from the genre’s supposed inferiority. Many saw this trend as nothing more than another condescending insult to a genre that has long been misunderstood and undervalued.

And they weren’t wrong. The word “elevated” inherently suggests that other horror films are lesser, inferior, or artistically lacking. Over time, even critics began to recognize the problematic nature of the term and started moving away from it.

Art-Horror – A Definition

Horror films can generally be divided into two broad categories:

  1. The thrill rides – from Halloween (1978) to Final Destination (2000), designed to shock, entertain, and keep audiences on the edge of their seats.
  2. The subtler, Arthouse-style experiences – including the new wave of horror films that gained traction in the 2010s.

The key term here is “Arthouse”, which is a far more accurate descriptor than “elevated horror.” This distinction is not meant to suggest that classic horror films are inferior; rather, the intent behind these films is simply different—and that should be acknowledged by both fans and critics alike. That’s why the widely used term “elevated horror” is misleading and should be replaced by “Art-Horror.”

These films are Arthouse horror at their core, replacing cheap jump scares with existential dread and prioritizing psychological unease over immediate thrills. It’s no longer just about fearing monsters, demons, or supernatural entities—instead, it’s about crafting an oppressive atmosphere that lingers long after the credits roll.

My Definition of Art-Horror: Art-Horror blends intellectual concepts, psychological narratives, and striking visual aesthetics with unconventional storytelling, unique acting styles, and experimental camerawork. These elements are framed within a horror setting that either:

  • Evokes fear and dread in a classical sense or
  • Shocks with extreme violence, surrealist imagery, or even absurdist-comedic undertones.

However, the core theme is not necessarily horror itself—it often stems from a deeper thematic foundation, which the horror elements serve to amplify.

For those looking to explore Art-Horror further, my book Art-Horror: The Films of Ari Aster and Robert Eggers (2022) offers a deep dive into this still-emerging genre. Aster and Eggers stand as the genre’s defining filmmakers, pushing horror beyond its traditional limits and into uncharted artistic territory.

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