{'It’s like they’ve erupted out of someone’s subconscious': how horror has come to dominate today's movie theaters.

The largest surprise the cinema world has experienced in 2025? The return of horror as a dominant force at the UK box office.

As a genre, it has remarkably exceeded earlier periods with a 22% year-on-year increase for the British and Irish cinemas: £83.7 million in 2025, versus £68 million the previous year.

“In the past year, not a single horror movie hit £10 million in UK or Irish theaters. Now, five have achieved that,” notes a box office editor.

The big hits of the year – Weapons (£11.4m), another hit film (£16.2m), the latest Conjuring installment (£14.98m) and the sequel to a classic (£15.54 million) – have all stayed in the multiplexes and in the audience's minds.

Although much of the industry commentary focuses on the standout quality of certain directors, their triumphs point to something evolving between moviegoers and the category.

“I’ve heard people say, ‘Even if you don’t like horror this is a film you need to see,’” says a head of acquisition.

“Such movies experiment with style and format to produce entirely fresh content, connecting with viewers on a new level.”

But outside of artistic merit, the steady demand of spooky films this year implies they are giving audiences something that’s much needed: emotional release.

“Right now, there’s a lot of anger, fear and division that’s being reflected in cinema,” notes a film commentator.

28 Years Later, a standout horror film of 2025, with Aaron Taylor-Johnson and Alfie Williams in key roles.

“Scary movies excel at tapping into viewers' fears, amplifying them, allowing you to set aside daily worries and concentrate on the on-screen terror,” says a noted author of vampire and monster cinema.

Amid a real-world news cycle featuring war, border tensions, far-right movements, and environmental crises, supernatural beings and undead creatures connect in new ways with viewers.

“Some research suggests vampire film popularity correlates with financial downturns,” comments an performer from a successful fright film.

“It’s the idea that capitalism sucks the life out of people.”

Historically, public discord has always impacted scary movies.

Experts highlight the boom of German expressionism after the first world war and the turbulent times of the early Weimar Republic, with features such as The Cabinet of Dr Caligari and Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.

Later occurred the Great Depression era and Universal Studios’ Frankenstein and The Wolfman.

“The classic example is Dracula: you get this invasion of Britain by someone from eastern Europe who then causes this infection that gets spread in all sorts of ways and threatens the Anglo-Saxon heroes,” says a historian.

“Thus, it mirrors widespread fears about migration.”

The classic Dr Caligari captured the chaotic spirit of the early 20th century.

The phantom of immigration shaped the just-premiered folk horror The Severed Sun.

Its writer-director elaborates: “I aimed to delve into populist rhetoric. Specifically, calls to restore a mythical past that favored a privileged few.”

“Secondly, the idea that you could be with someone you know and then suddenly they blurt out something round the dinner table or in a Facebook post and you’re like, ‘Where did that come from?’”

Arguably, the present time of celebrated, politically engaged fright cinema commenced with a sharp parody debuted a year after a polarizing administration.

It introduced a recent surge of horror auteurs, including a range of talented artists.

“It was a hugely exciting time,” says a filmmaker whose film about a deadly unborn child was one of the period's key works.

“In my view, it marked the start of a phase where filmmakers embraced wildly creative horror with artistic ambitions.”

This creator, now penning a fresh horror script, notes: “During the past decade, viewers have become more receptive to such innovative approaches.”

An influential satire from 2017 launched modern horror with social commentary.

At the same time, there has been a reappraisal of the overlooked scary films.

In recent months, a nicke l venue opened in London, showing underground films such as a quirky horror title, The Fall of the House of Usher and the modern reinterpretation of the expressionist icon.

The re-appreciation of this “rough and rowdy” genre is, according to the cinema founder, a straightforward answer to the formulaic productions pumped out at the cinemas.

“It’s a reaction to the sanitised product that’s coming out of Hollywood. You have a film scene that’s more tepid and more predictable. A lot of the mainstream films are very similar,” he says.

“On the other hand, [these indie works] feel imperfect. They seem to burst forth from deep creativity, free from commercial constraints.”

Scary movies continue to upset the establishment.

“Horror possesses a dual nature, feeling both classic and current simultaneously,” observes an expert.

Besides the revival of the mad scientist trope – with two adaptations of a well-known story imminent – he forecasts we will see scary movies in the coming years reacting to our present fears: about artificial intelligence control in the near future and “vampires living in the Trump tower”.

Meanwhile, “Jesus horror” The Carpenter’s Son – which tells the story of Mary and Joseph’s struggles after the messiah's arrival, and stars well-known actors as the holy parents – is set for release later this year, and will definitely send a ripple through the Christian right in the United States.</

Erica Neal
Erica Neal

A technology strategist with over a decade of experience in digital transformation and global systems analysis.