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Four Black Horror Movies to Watch this October

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Rhodes chapter.

It’s spooky time: my favorite time of the year. Everyone’s wearing black, getting scared, and scoring a few cavities. My favorite October pastime is cozying up with good foods and good scary movies. Now, I wasn’t always a brave viewer, for many years, I watched some of my favorite horror flicks through the slits in my fingers, screaming to drown out my sister’s mocking laughter. However, my love for the genre grew, and being a Black horror lover – a Black consumer at the least – I wanted to see myself on screen, too.  

I remember during the rise of Jordan Peele’s Get Out, there was a rumor that claimed that Black people did not like Horror movies, so I made a list to put that rumor to shame. Here you have four of my picks of Black Horror movies of many subgenres that will get you in the Halloween spirit.  

Horror Noire: A History of Black Horror (2019 – Documentary – 1h 23m) 

For any fan of horror, this documentary, written and produced by Ashlee Blackwell and Danielle Burrows, two Black women who are educators and lovers of the horror genre, is essential.  Based on the 2011 non-fiction book Horror Noire: Blacks in American Horror Films from the 1890s to Present by Robin R. Means Coleman, Ph.D., the evolution of Black horror – as explained by historians, actors, directors, and other players – acts as the connector to how the United States, and by extension White Hollywood, exploited and sidelined Black Americans, and how Black Americans found a way to embrace themselves, embedding their stories into the many subgenres of horror. Wonderfully informative of how Black people have expressed and been expressed, it is great for those who love history and love to get scared. 

Alien v. Predator (2004 – Sci-fi/Action – 1h 55m) 

Now, I know how much this movie sucks, but for me, I can’t spend a Halloween without revisiting one of the most anticipated crossovers of the sci-fi/horror subgenre. The dialogue is eww most of the time; the editing is chop-chop; the lighting is what is going on? dark; and the cast is whiter than a bag of rice, so how is this movie on a list specifically about Black horror? It’s because of Alexa freakin’ Woods. Played by Black film regular Sanaa Lathan, Alexa Woods fought two intergalactic monsters to gain her Final Girl status, becoming one of the few Black Final Girls in American Horror history. To the majority represented audience, this would be no big deal, but a Black woman – not a blonde blue-eyed virgin in distress – was the one to team up with a Predator, take out the big, bad Queen Xenomorph, and looked good while doing it. If you’re up for a monster flick with scary baddies and cheesy characters, then I suggest gearing up for a snow-filled, bloody adventure lead by the baddest lady in red.   

Ganja and Hess (1973 ‧ Vampire ‧ 1h 50m) 

Recently risen to cult classic status, Ganja and Hess, written and directed by Bill Gun, is meant to be enjoyed and study. Telling the story of two vampires, anthropologist Dr. Hess Green and widowed Ganja Meda make a wonderful display of sex, religion, and identity for Black Americans. I love the film for Gunn’s stylistic choices and the analysis that the film has conquered up. Ganja and Hess, like many Black horror films, uses vampirism, or imaging Black people in mysticism, or otherness, to provide social commentary. I think Bill Gunn’s piece encompasses Nina Simone’s quote perfectly: “An artist’s duty, as far as I’m concerned, is to reflect the times,” and I believe that if it wasn’t for Ganja and Hess, as well as films like it, modern horrors, such as Get Out, wouldn’t exist.  

Tales from the Hood (1995 – Horror/Comedy – 1h 37min) 

What is October without some scary stories? While not well-received at the time, this anthology became a culture classic later. With social commentary on white supremacy, police brutality, the legacy of slavery, and intercommunal violence, this 90s film became the stuff of nightmares for many Black youths of the next generations, myself included. Turn off the lights, pull your friends (and your siblings close), and follow the friendly Mr. Simms through a few stories. Keep your eyes open, though, because they might not just be only stories.  

Black people have always wanted to be on the screen. Not the first killed, not the villain, not the Magical Negro, not the best friend, and not the sacrifice. I wanted to see Black people survive, fight the monsters, solve the mysteries, challenge the killer, laugh, and live when the sun comes up.  

Shockingly, I am not the first to think this way. In fact, it is very much in the tradition of Black Horror to name our killers, to survive, to fight the monsters in ourselves and those who harm us, to solve some mysteries, to laugh and live every day when the sun sets, continuing when the sun rises again and again. To be Black is to be in Horror, to run from death and monsters, to fear the dark as much as we fear the light because we know in our white supremacist society, life is always a slasher, always one wrong turn away from the boogeyman. 

Due to this fact, I want to warn non-Black viewers that they are guests in these spaces; it is better to not be seen or heard. Remember these movies mean something to many Black horror fans, and that non-Black viewers do not have the right to claim most of these films, for these are not your stories to tell. Ganja and Hess does not belong to you. Tales from the Hood does not belong to you. Horror Noire does not belong to you. There are boundaries that you should never cross, and if this warning offends you, or if you cannot comprehend your position in our anti-Black society, then you are better off not viewing these films. Also, if you do acknowledge your privilege, do not just meaninglessly consume our art. Pay us reparations by donating to our artists and our funds directly. 

For Black viewers, these films are for us and ours. Enjoy by yourself, or, for the faint of heart, view with friends.  

To everyone, be safe out there. One day, we’ll be scared together again. Happy Halloween.  

Janay Kelley

Rhodes '24

Janay Kelley is a nationally-recognized literary artist and visual artist, specializing in Black Southern themes. Raised in Memphis, TN, her love for the written and spoken word as well as film and photography has expanded into an extension of herself. Her motivation drives from the experiences of her family, Black American culture, and her own life. Using her background in composition and performance, she thrives to provide a personal connection between her work and the viewer. She plans on studying English with a concentration in creative writing and Africana Studies at Rhodes College in Memphis, TN.