Just a few years back, the selection of horror films featuring overtly queer characters and themes was quite limited. While there have been numerous excellent movies rich in subtext (and we’ll discuss some of those), few actually brought those themes to the forefront. This scarcity is surprising, considering the horror genre boasts a large, dedicated (Gay Horror Movies) queer fanbase—many of the most passionate horror enthusiasts I know identify as anything but straight, myself included. Recently, there’s been a noticeable increase in horror films that center around queer characters. This shift isn’t merely about adding diversity; it’s about fulfilling the desires of viewers. Some of these films cleverly weave in distinctly queer coming-of-age narratives or metaphors, while others feature LGBTQ leads without making a big deal about it. You’ll find examples of “elevated” horror alongside serial killer tales and slasher flicks.
Knife + Heart (2018)
Knife + Heart (2018) is a stylish French slasher film set in the late 1970s that follows Anne, a gay porn producer, as her cast and crew are stalked by a mysterious killer. As she grapples with heartbreak and her failing career, Anne becomes obsessed with uncovering the truth behind the murders. Blending noir aesthetics, campy horror, and a haunting synth soundtrack, the film offers a surreal exploration of love, obsession, and violence in the LGBTQ+ community. (Gay Horror Movies)
I Saw the TV Glow (2024)
There isn’t a singular interpretation of writer/director Jane Schoenbrun’s follow-up to their earlier, similarly noteworthy, but less talked-about film, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair. Despite Glow’s mysterious and ambiguous tone, its underlying themes are easily discernible. Isolated and marginalized teens Owen (Justice Smith) and Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine) form a connection through their shared passion for the fantasy television series The Pink Opaque, a show that feels more authentic to them than their mundane suburban existence. At its core, the film explores the theme of transition, reflecting Schoenbrun’s own journey, encapsulating both the magic of leaving behind the past and the genuine, instinctual fear associated with embracing change.
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)
I’ve watched Rocky Horror at least a dozen times (in various states of undress), and I still can’t quite explain what it’s about—something involving Brad and Janet (Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon) stopping at a bizarre old house inhabited by queers (led by Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter) from another planet. This film transformed from a cult favorite to a rite of passage for young LGBTQ+ individuals, featuring delightfully exaggerated characters who either begin as sex- and gender-fluid or embrace those identities by the film’s conclusion. It cleverly subverts many classic horror tropes and, while it may not be the scariest film in queer cinema, it’s incredibly entertaining and a fantastic way to shock the straight-laced people in your life. (Gay Horror Movies)
Knock at the Cabin (2023)
M. Night Shyamalan’s psychological thriller presents an unthinkable dilemma for married couple Eric and Andrew (played by Jonathan Groff and Ben Aldridge): one of them must be sacrificed to save the world. What initially appears to be a home invasion led by the formidable character portrayed by Dave Bautista gradually unfolds into a compelling warning about the necessity of this sacrifice. The film’s escalating sense of existential dread is amplified by the warm domestic atmosphere surrounding the couple, who simply wish to nurture their daughter and enjoy their charming cabin retreat.
Sleepaway Camp (1983)
Problematic? Absolutely! However, queer horror fans of the 1980s (give or take) knew how to seize our enjoyment wherever we could find it. As a slasher, this film is particularly unusual, blending over-the-top comedic moments with some genuinely impressive kills. Strangely, the fact that no two actors seem to be in the same movie adds to the campy (pun intended) atmosphere. The ending, which I’m about to spoil, is both the best and worst aspect: our killer is revealed to be Angela (Felissa Rose)—who is then disclosed to be Peter, traumatized after discovering her father in bed with another man and further traumatized when her quirky Aunt Martha (Desiree Gould) raised Peter as the daughter she had always desired. Angela has often been labeled a trans villain, though it’s unclear exactly what’s happening here. The film’s politics are questionable, but as a chaotic slasher filled with delightfully messy queer characters, it strikes many of the right chords. (Gay Horror Movies)
Dracula's Daughter (1936)
In this direct sequel to the Bela Lugosi classic, the theme of like father, like daughter unfolds as Countess Marya Zaleska (Gloria Holden) confronts Edward Van Sloan’s Van Helsing from the original film. Both vampires share not only an arch-nemesis but also an attraction to women, with Countess Zaleska first seducing the troubled Lili and then abducting Janet. Leading up to the film’s release, producers and censors expressed concerns about the film’s lesbian themes, yet they also leaned into this aspect in their marketing, highlighted by the provocative tagline: “Save the women of London from Dracula’s Daughter!”
Huesera: The Bone Woman (2022)
Pregnancy and body horror make for an unforgettable cinematic pairing, and Michelle Garza’s film excels in this genre. Val (Natalia Solián) is expecting a child but is married to the wealthy and arrogant Raul (Alfonso Dosal). Initially, she is excited about motherhood, but soon she realizes that her husband and his family view her merely as a vessel—her worth seen primarily in her role as a mother, with her individuality taking a backseat. As she experiences visions of the titular demon woman, she finds herself drawn back to her slightly eccentric ex-girlfriend. The film powerfully implies that the suffocating pressure of heteronormative conformity is one of the most horrific fates imaginable. (Gay Horror Movies)
Bit (2020)
Nicole Maines (Supergirl) stars here as Laurel, a trans teenage girl moving in with her brother in LA following her transition. A club afterparty leads to lots of making out and then some blood—it’s not long before Laurel is offered the chance to join a group of vampires dedicated to taking care of the many predatory men walking the city’s streets.
Bride of Frankenstein (1935)
The queer coding in the hauntingly funny Bride of Frankenstein is so pronounced that it transcends mere subtext—there’s simply too much gay energy to overlook. The story centers around the fabulously flamboyant Dr. Septimus Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger), a former mentor to Victor Frankenstein, who arrives on the eve of Victor’s wedding night to whisk him away (with minimal persuasion) for a series of experiments aimed at discovering if they can create life together. With this storyline and the notable queer representation both in front of and behind the camera (including Thesiger and director James Whale), the film undeniably becomes a gay horror fever dream. (Gay Horror Movies)
Stranger by the Lake (2013)
This horror film resonates with the allure of classic sexy thrillers. Pierre Deladonchamps stars as Franck, a frequent visitor to a nude beach and the nearby woods, both of which are popular cruising locations. Franck embarks on a passionate relationship (which involves a lot of explicit encounters in the woods) with Michel (Christophe Paou), only to later witness Michel drowning someone in the lake. Awkward, right? As the investigation into this incident intensifies, Franck struggles to let go of his enticing romance, even in light of the murder. In true erotic thriller fashion, the better the sex, the more risks Franck is willing to take.
Seed of Chucky (2004)
Don Mancini, the openly gay creator of Child’s Play, has been weaving in queer subtext since the very beginning of the series, having written, directed, and/or produced every film in the main franchise. The introduction of Bound star and icon Jennifer Tilly as the voice of the doll Tiffany in 1998’s Bride of Chucky marked a significant step toward transforming subtext into explicit representation. However, it was in Seed of Chucky that things truly took a wild turn. In this installment, Tiffany partners with Chucky (voiced by Brad Dourif) to raise their non-binary child, Glen-or-Glenda (a nod to an Ed Wood film), all while attempting to possess the bodies of the real-life Jennifer Tilly and actor Redman (playing themselves). And if that’s not enough campy appeal, John Waters makes a cameo, providing his stamp of approval. (Gay Horror Movies)
Bodies Bodies Bodies (2022)
While many queer horror films explore the difficulties of being anything but straight, Bodies Bodies Bodies places a queer couple at the forefront: Sophie (Amandla Stenberg) and Bee (Maria Bakalova) are a relatively ordinary couple who find themselves thrust into a nightmarish situation when Sophie invites her girlfriend home to meet her old friend. What begins as a murder-in-the-dark game takes a sinister turn when an actual murder occurs, quickly revealing that Sophie and Bee might be the most well-adjusted individuals in the entire group.
The Jessica Cabin (2022)
While it’s not intended to be terrifying, The Jessica Cabin is a brisk, slightly sad, yet mostly charming ghost story that’s perfect if you’re in the mood for something horror-adjacent without the gore. The couple Nicky (Chase Williamson) and Preston (Will Tranfo) arrive at the titular Airbnb, which we eventually discover is named after one of the individuals who has died there. It quickly becomes apparent that their relationship is far from ideal. Meanwhile, they are being watched by best friends Jackson (Daniel Montgomery) and Taylor (Riley Rose Critchlow), two ghosts haunting the cabin, stuck in an afterlife of endless boredom—until the dead Jackson develops a fascination with the living Nicky. This low-budget film unfolds as a delightful tale about love and longing, embodying the essence of many great ghost stories. (Gay Horror Movies)
Spiral (2019)
Jeffrey Bowyer-Chapman stars as Malik, who relocates to a new town with his white partner, Aaron, and their teenage daughter, all seeking a bit of peace and quiet. Naturally, things start to get strange—first in familiar ways, such as passive-aggressive comments and unreturned greetings, and then in increasingly disturbing ways. As a more openly queer and Black man, Malik appears to be the only one truly aware of the growing hostility around them, leading him to question both his relationships with his family and his own sanity. (And don’t confuse this with the 2021 Saw movie of the same name.)
The Babadook (2014)
The Babadook found its place in the queer pantheon somewhat accidentally: at one point, Netflix mistakenly listed it in its LGBT section, and the label stuck, turning “the Babadook is gay” into a playful catchphrase. Viewed through this lens, the film serves as a powerful queer allegory: well-meaning yet overwhelmed widow Amelia (Essie Davis) struggles to raise her son Sam on her own, increasingly troubled by his behavior. The imaginary monster that soon becomes tangible can symbolize grief, illustrating that battling it is far less effective than embracing it. This also serves as a potent metaphor for the experiences of parents with queer children. The more Amelia attempts to change her son and suppress his behavior, the stronger the Babadook becomes, eager to break free. It is only through acceptance and confronting the unchangeable reality that Amelia can find peace for both herself and her son. (Gay Horror Movies)
Scream (2022)
Taking on the crucial role of the pop-culture-savvy member of the “core four,” Jasmin Savoy Brown joined the Scream requel as Mindy Meeks-Martin, a character who may not know who the killer is but certainly understands the rules of the game. As an out lesbian, she introduces the first canonically queer character to a franchise that began with murderers loosely inspired by the infamous lovers Leopold and Loeb. With a blend of humor and brutal kills, the fifth Scream film successfully rebooted the franchise, which boasts a legion of queer fans, and set the stage for an even more exciting sequel.
The Fear Street Trilogy (2021)
We’re diving into three movies at once, as each film in this trilogy, adapted from R.L. Stine’s books, shares a consistent tone, quality, and director—Leigh Janiak, who was previously known for Honeymoon before tackling Fear Street. The trilogy features lead characters Deena and Sam (played by Kiana Madeira and Olivia Scott Welch), star-crossed girlfriends battling an ancient curse across different time periods. Fear Street Part One: 1994 kicks off the series by introducing the town of Shadyside, which local teens derisively refer to as “Shittyside,” known for its dark history of numerous murders, most of which have been concealed. When a group of teens disturbs the grave of a witch, they inadvertently awaken a murderous cult. The atmosphere is reminiscent of Stranger Things, complete with genuine gore and scares—this is YA, but far from child-friendly—as Janiak pays homage to a wide array of classic horror films. The saga continues with Fear Street Part Two: 1978 and concludes (for now) with Fear Street Part
Titane (2021)
In a landscape flooded with superhero films, stand out with a story about a gender-fluid erotic dancer, Alexia/Adrien (played by Agathe Rousselle), who engages in an intimate relationship with a car, resulting in an unexpected pregnancy. She is then taken in by a man (Vincent Lindon) who believes he has found his long-lost son. To add to the intrigue, our protagonist is also a serial killer. Writer/director Julia Ducournau’s wildly unconventional love story brims with complex themes, but what truly stands out is how Alexia/Adrien’s gender nonconformity is portrayed not as a horror element, but ultimately as a story of love.
The Perfection (2018)
Echoes of Suspiria (and Black Swan) resonate in this tale as Charlotte Willmore (Allison Williams) returns to her prestigious music academy after a hiatus, only to discover that another woman (Logan Browning) has claimed her former position at the top of the class. As the two begin a sexual relationship, the intentionally fragmented narrative quickly spirals into an intensely claustrophobic realm of body horror. While it may not be the first film to extract dark thrills and gore from the world of arts education, it pushes boundaries further than most.
The Latent Image (2022)
Maximizing its budget, The Latent Image presents an isolated cabin-in-the-woods slasher story infused with artful and surreal twists. Ben (Joshua Tonks), a novelist grappling with writer’s block and separated from his boyfriend, encounters a mysterious stranger (Jay Clift) who might just be seeking a place to stay for the night. As Ben’s vivid imagination blurs the lines between reality and fiction, the ambiguous chemistry between the two characters becomes increasingly charged—hinting at both potential desire and danger.
All of Us Strangers (2023)
Although it doesn’t market itself as a horror film—Searchlight prefers to present it as a romantic fantasy—All of Us Strangers evokes a profound sense of existential dread that rivals many entries on this list. It may lack graphic murder scenes, but if the fear of being alone and forgotten resonates with you, this film will certainly send chills down your spine. The narrative follows lonely screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott) as he embarks on a romantic relationship with his enigmatic neighbor Harry (Paul Mescal), both of them the sole residents of a daunting new apartment building. As their bond deepens, Adam returns to his family home, where he encounters his (long-deceased) parents, who appear surprisingly vibrant and alive. This poignant film serves as a powerful reminder that loss is an inescapable aspect of life, suggesting that true solace can only be found in the act of forgetting and moving forward.
They/Them (2022)
While it may be somewhat milder than its provocative title (pronounced “They Slash Them”) implies, this film earns its stripes by treating its queer characters with genuine respect. However, the atmosphere is far from idyllic, especially at the conversion camp run by the suitably sinister Owen Whistler (played by Kevin Bacon), where a serial killer lurks in the woods, seemingly seeking a gruesome form of revenge.
Midnight Kiss (2019)
An installment of Hulu’s Into the Dark anthology film series, the feature-length Midnight Kiss follows a group of gay friends (along with their straight female companion) as they journey to a stunning desert locale for an annual tradition: each person randomly selects someone to kiss at midnight. As the night unfolds, old grudges rise to the surface, fueled (unknown to most) by the presence of a serial killer. It’s no surprise that not everyone will survive until New Year’s Day.
Slay (2024)
There’s elevated horror, and then there’s simply campy fun, which is exactly what you get with this Tubi original featuring RuPaul alums Trinity the Tuck, Heidi N Closet, Crystal Methyd, and Cara Melle. The film follows a group of drag queens who arrive at a rundown bar for a gig, only to find themselves caught up in a vampire escapade. While it could have easily devolved into pure silliness, there’s a notable commitment from the entire cast: the performances are surprisingly solid, and the practical effects are impressive, showcasing the filmmakers’ ability to maximize their budget. Imagine From Dusk Till Dawn, but with a fabulous twist!
Pitchfork (2017)
Let’s be honest: queer individuals deserve their share of silly little slashers, and this stylish film is a cut (pun intended) above the rest. What begins as a coming-of-age tale about Hunter returning home to come out to his conservative father swiftly takes a bloody turn. Hunter and his supportive friends soon find themselves being stalked through the woods by the titular killer.
Director Maio Mackay’s T-Blockers brilliantly maximizes its budget by merging classic EC Comics aesthetics (complete with a matching color palette) with genuinely compelling performances. The film is anything but subtle; it follows Sophie (Lauren Last) and her close-knit group of queer friends as they navigate life in an increasingly anti-queer climate. Things take a turn for the worse when parasitic worms appear, leading to mysterious disappearances. The film’s commentary on the rise of alt-right bigotry and hate is overt, but this directness works in its favor. Ultimately, it serves as both a coming-of-age narrative and a bold statement against hate, all wrapped in a gory, freaky monster movie package.
