The horror genre is not for the faint of heart. Whenever I tell someone I love horror movies – the graphic, heart-pounding, stomach-churning kind – I’m often met with a cringing response, “not my thing”. It’s a reaction that I, like many fans of the genre, are well-used to.

Recently, however, I’ve noticed a trend among horror fans and critics: the increasing use of the term ‘elevated horror’ to describe certain modern films. It’s a vague descriptor, largely unexplained and indeterminate in origin, yet increasingly referred to.

“Elevated horror is a meaningless label, one that should be abandoned in favour of simply admitting to our individual tastes in horror”

The use of the term has largely unbothered me. After all, I have got the gist what people were trying to say; movies like The Babadook (2014) or Longlegs (2024) are supposedly elevated, whilst Killer Klowns from Outer Space (1988) is not. It seemed to be a term used to refer to artsy horror with psychological themes and social commentary, right?

But the more I saw the term, the more I felt the need to examine what it actually means. My conclusion? ‘Elevated horror’ is a meaningless label, one that should be abandoned in favour of simply admitting to our individual tastes in horror.

The biggest issue with the term lies with its lack of a clear definition. There is no consensus on what qualifies as elevated horror and no authority to tell us what its defining traits are. Lists of so-called elevated horror films often include the works of Ari Aster, Robert Eggers, and Jordan Peele, but they also feature unexpected entries like John Krasinski’s Blockbuster A Quiet Place (2018), and even the stop-motion childhood classic Coraline (2009). Some sources (looking at you Wikipedia) stretch the label even further, retroactively applying it to silent-era arthouse films like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) or Nosferatu (1922) – movies that were made so early in film history that the term would have been inconceivable to their creators.

This inconsistency makes the label ineffective. If someone asked me for recommendations on artistic or psychologically complex horror, I wouldn’t point them to an ‘elevated horror’ list that includes both the action-packed Nope (2022), the slow-burn period horror The Witch (2015), and the experimental nightmare Skinamarink (2022). The term lacks specificity to be a helpful descriptor, let alone a sub-genre, and appears to be an invention of critics rather than filmmakers. I couldn’t help but be amused to see the comment in an interview made by John Carpenter, director of Halloween (1978) – which inexplicably appears on IMDb’s ‘elevated horror’ list – saying he had “no idea” what the term meant.

“Horror films that achieve mainstream success or critical acclaim must be ‘distinguished’ from the rest of the genre”

If we examine when and how the term is used, it becomes clear that ‘elevated horror’ is primarily a marketing tool. It’s a way to reassure horror-curious audiences that “this horror movie isn’t like other girls”. Take The Substance (2024), Coralie Fargeat’s colourful and grotesque body-horror film. Initially, it seemed destined for cult-classic status. But the moment it started receiving prestigious award nominations? The film began to appear on ‘elevated horror’ lists. The implication is clear; horror films that achieve mainstream success or critical acclaim must be ‘distinguished’ from the rest of the genre.

This reflects a deeper issue, being horror’s historic struggle for legitimacy in cinema. The genre has long been dismissed as ‘cheap entertainment’, associated with cheesy thrills, excessive gore, and screaming victims. Even today, horror movies must do a lot more for themselves than films in other genres to be taken seriously.

But why does horror alone require this treatment? No one refers to John Wick (2014) as ‘elevated action’ or Call Me by Your Name (2017) as ‘elevated romance’. Other genres are allowed to have a range of styles, tones, and sub-genres without needing an additional label to validate themselves. Horror should be no different.

Like many fans of the genre, I am delighted to see horror films begin to gain wider recognition and praise. Audiences deserve to be exposed to the vast and varied thrills that scary movies have to offer. But using terms like ‘elevated horror’ won’t be what secures the genre’s place as high cinema. Instead of trying to dress up the palatability of the genre, we should embrace its full spectrum – from slashers to psychological thrillers to experimental nightmares. Horror is horror, and that should be enough.

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