The 30 best horror film franchises

If you’ve never seen the original “Sleepaway Camp," drop everything you’re doing (unless you’re delivering a baby or something; maybe finish that up), and fire up a stream of this slasher classic immediately. What Robert Hiltzik’s original lacks in craftsmanship (and it lacks a lot), it more than makes up for in bizarre moments and a mind-blowing finale that turned it into one of the most talked-about cult horror films of the 1980s. Sequels were inevitable, and director Michael A. Simpson maintains the lo-fi aesthetic while injecting an overt tone of self-parody that’s alternately amusing and grating. Pamela Springsteen (the sister of The Boss) has a great time as the killer/protagonist. Stay far away from Hiltzik’s botched “Return to Sleepaway Camp."

This slasher series boasts an all-female roster of directors, though only Amy Holden Jones’ original fully succeeds at toying with the sexist tropes of the subgenre. Deborah Brock introduces a ghostly rockabilly driller killer into the mix with “Slumber Party II," which is good for a few laughs. It’s far superior to Sally Mattison’s joyless, by-the-numbers “Slumber Party III," which can’t even muster up one memorable kill. Not a great franchise, but the subversive brilliance of the first movie gives the series all the juice it needs.

Of the big J-Horror franchises, “Ringu” contains the best film (the original), but in terms of variety and sheer quantity, “Ju-On” has much more to offer. The interesting aspect of this series is how the Japanese and American iterations have essentially worked in tandem. (For instance, the film’s creator, Takashi Shimizu, eagerly signed on to direct two of the U.S. movies). Are they little more than strung-together set pieces? Not really. But when the set pieces work, they stay with you.

Universal got six films out of its Mummy franchise but only managed to retain Boris Karloff for one go-round as the resurrected Imhotep. Tom Tyler, Lon Chaney Jr. and Eddie Parker would all take their turns under the gauze, but unlike the other Universal franchises, none of the sequels came close to matching the quality of the original. It’s the least interesting of the classic franchises (reboots included).

Director Bernard Rose’s reconfiguring of Clive Barker’s short story “The Forbidden” is a slasher film with soul. The haunting combination of Chicago’s Cabrini-Green projects and Philip Glass’ minimalist score sets a uniquely unnerving mood; this isn’t one to howl at over a case of beer (or the intoxicant of your choice) with buddies. Tony Todd cuts a terrifying figure as the mythical murderer who can be conjured by five utterances of his name while looking in a mirror. The first sequel, “Candyman: Farewell to the Flesh” (directed by Bill Condon), delves into the characters back story with mixed results. The final film in the trilogy, “Candyman: Day of the Dead," is straight-up dreadful. Here’s hoping the Jordan Peele-produced remake can make good on the franchise’s squandered promise.

Few horror franchises suffer a more precipitous drop-off from the first film to the second than “The Howling." Joe Dante’s 1981 adaptation of Gary Brandner’s werewolf novel is both a terrifyingly tale of a young couple unwittingly caught in a colony of werewolves and a knowing riff on the sub-genre’s well-established rules and conventions. It’s one of the best horror films of the 1980s. “Howling II: Your Sister Is a Werewolf," directed by Aussie auteur Philippe Mora, is not (though it’s a must for Sybil Danning fans). Mora’s “Howling III” is a loopy improvement on the atrocious first sequel, and if you’re wise you’ll make it the last “Howling” movie you ever watch. The next five movies attempt to reboot, retcon and restore continuity with little in the way of invention or effort.

Director George Waggner and screenwriter Curt Siodmak collaborated for one of Universal’s finest horror films, which stars Lon Chaney Jr. as the cursed Larry Talbot. The highlight of the movie is Talbot’s progressive transformation into a werewolf, which set a high standard for creature visual f/x. (Makeup maestros like Rick Baker still marvel at it.) While "The Wolf Man" was a celebrated part of the Universal Monsters franchise, the furry fella never got another sequel unto himself. Many fans include 1935’s unrelated “Werewolf of London” as part of the series, with “Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man” and the June Lockhart-starring “She-Wolf of London” as official follow-ups (even though the latter has nothing to do with the Talbot story).

While Harry Essex and Arthur A. Ross wrote a perfectly fine script, and Jack Arnold brought his usual visual mastery to the film, the only reason we’re still obsessed with “The Creature from the Black Lagoon” today is Milicent Patrick’s brilliant Gill-Man design — and of course, the gorgeous Julie Adams, who captured more than the Creature’s heart as ichthyologist Kay Lawrence. The first sequel, “Revenge of the Creature," feels like a rush job. “The Creature Walks Among Us," however, at least tries to put a Frankenstein’s Monster spin on the story, but the writing isn’t sharp enough and worst of all, the creature design has lost all of Patrick’s artistry and charm.

This ultra-low-budget scare machine from writer-director Oren Peli was a surprise box office smash in 2009, raking in $107 million domestically and providing the spendthrifts at Paramount Pictures their first bargain-basement horror franchise since “Friday the 13th." This time the success was well earned: The first movie takes full advantage of its stripped-down conceit. After stumbling with the ho-hum “Paranormal Activity 2," the franchise found new life via “Catfish” directors Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman in the third and fourth films. The series seemed to have stalled out with 2015’s “The Ghost Dimension," but Paramount claims a seventh film is in the offing.

Clive Barker had recently been dubbed “the future of horror” when he knocked the horror world sideways with this unremittingly kinky and gory adaptation of his novella “The Hellbound Heart." The otherworldly, torture-happy Cenobites (led by Doug Bradley’s aptly-named Pinhead) were a huge hit with moviegoers, and the first two sequels, “Hellbound” and “Hell on Earth," were worthy follow-ups to the sadomasochistic original. Aside from the Cenobites, the series drew much of its terrifying power from Christopher Young’s magnificent score, which remained the musical template for a while after he departed the series. The final theatrical effort, “Bloodline," was an Alan Smithee-directed mess, but the first direct-to-video release, “Hellraiser: Inferno” (directed by future “Doctor Strange” helmer, Scott Derrickson), is pretty good. The series nadir by far is 2011’s “Revelations," which dropped Bradley in favor of a… notably full-faced Pinhead. 

Unlike most of the franchises on this list, there’s not a single great entry that wholly redeems this series’ existence. At their 1980s peak, they were cheaply produced stalk-and-kills that occasionally got an infusion of craft (Joseph Zito’s “The Final Chapter," featuring A-plus f/x work from Tom Savini) or a sense of humor (Tom McLoughlin’s “Jason Lives” and James Isaac’s space-bound “Jason X”). They’re also the purest expression of the low-aiming slasher ethos, and, as such, are either very much your thing or very much not. These movies are at their bloody best when they get a bunch of horny, pot-smoking kids together and let Jason Voorhees pick them off one by one in inventively gruesome fashion. The only completely unwatchable installment is the telekinetically awful “The New Blood."

Stuart Gordon’s Grand Guignol take on H.P. Lovecraft’s short story “Herbert West – Re-Animator” is a gore-drenched hoot starring Jeffrey Combs as the titular medical student who’s developed a reagent that brings the dead back to life. The only problem is that the dead aren’t quite who they once were and aren’t terribly pleased to be back among the living. Brian Yuzna took over the directing reins for the sequels, “Bride of Re-Animator” and “Beyond Re-Animator," and placed a greater emphasis on the comedic elements. “Bride” is enjoyable, but “Beyond” is a waste of Combs’s deranged genius as West.

One of the standout entries at the 2004 Sundance Film Festival wound up launching one of the longest-running horror franchises in the history of the medium. Along with Eli Roth’s “Hostel," James Wan’s film also played a crucial role in creating the “torture porn” sub-genre. While the deadly Rube Goldberg antics of Jigsaw (Tobin Bell) didn’t yield any great films over its nine-movie run (though we’ll see what’s what with Darren Lynn Bousman-directed, Chris Rock-starring “The Organ Donor” in 2020), some of the sequels, particularly the Kevin Greutert-helmed “Saw VI” and “Saw 3D," delivered some nifty, late-in-the-series twists. None of the films is unwatchable, and the creators know to keep the runtime in the 90-minute range.

When a franchise’s first installment happens to be one of the greatest films ever made, you can follow it up with nothing but dreck and it’ll still make this list. It’s close, but “Jaws 2” retains enough of the original’s Spielbergian charm (and, most importantly, cast) that you excuse its narrative contrivances. “Jaws 3-D” features Dennis Quaid, Lea Thompson and a post-Oscar Louis Gossett Jr., but the promise of a gargantuan great white terrorizing a water park is largely squandered. “Jaws: The Revenge” posits that an entire species of shark has it out for the Brody family but doesn’t get nearly bonkers enough. It’s merely atrocious, though the alternate opening is very special.

If you think it might be difficult to take Bela Lugosi’s take on the iconic bloodsucker seriously after Martin Landau’s Oscar-winning performance of a late-in-life Lugosi in Tim Burton’s “Ed Wood," you needn’t worry. Tod Browning’s 1931 “Dracula” is still a creepy delight — and while Karl Freund’s shadowy cinematography certainly lends an apprehensive air to the film, the menace is all Lugosi. Gloria Holden capably took up the fangs as “Dracula’s Daughter," while Lon Chaney Jr. starred as the “Son of Dracula," which concluded the initial trilogy. Lugosi returned one last time to the role for the sublime “Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein."

Studios are all about creating “universes” nowadays as a means of expanding popular brands — which sometimes doesn’t work out at all. That this strategy is now being applied to horror is hardly a surprise; that it’s worked out so well with “The Conjuring” is. The idea thus far has been to focus in part on objects contained in the haunted archive of paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren while also producing spinoffs based on characters introduced in the main series. “The Conjuring” movies have justifiably been huge hits, while the “Annabelle” series has proved profitable despite being up-and-down quality-wise (“Annabelle: Creation” is the best yet). There’s also “The Nun," “The Curse of La Llorona” and lots more on the way.

The brainchild of screenwriter Don Mancini, “Child’s Play” has spawned seven movies, all of which are watchable on some level. The first film, directed by Tom Holland (“Fright Night”), got the sequel ball rolling by presenting a Cabbage Patch Doll-sized creature as a plausibly lethal murderer. The next two sequels coasted on the effectiveness of the first, while “Bride of Chucky” and “Seed of Chucky” veered enjoyably into camp. Universal and Mancini successfully revived the franchise in 2013 as a direct-to-video series, but MGM has seemingly kiboshed further Mancini efforts thanks to its 2019 remake.

Claude Rains is splendid as the ambitious chemist who “meddled in things that man must leave alone." The first film is a joy, featuring clever visual f/x from John P. Fulton, John J. Mescall and Frank D. Williams that deftly provided the illusion of invisibility. Vincent Price took over as the disembodied voice in the Joe May’s decent “The Invisible Man Returns," while Virginia Bruce gave the franchise a comedic spin as “The Invisible Woman." The best of the sequels is the WWII-set, Curt Siodmak-scripted “Invisible Agent," which was actual U.S. propaganda that finds Jon Hall trying to keep the invisibility formula out of the clutches of the Axis forces.

Terence Fisher’s “Curse of Frankenstein” established the Hammer Horror house style in 1957 with its florid color scheme, generous (for the time) gore and the one-two punch of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee as, respectively, Victor Frankenstein and his monster. Six sequels ensued — most with Cushing hamming it up in his inimitable fashion as the Baron, while Lee put in his work as Hammer’s Dracula — and they vary in quality from quite good (“The Revenge of Frankenstein” and “Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell”) to regrettably awful (the Freddie Francis-directed “The Evil of Frankenstein”).

Jeffrey Redding’s “Final Destination” screenplay began life as a spec script for “The X-Files” but gradually grew into a feature film about a group of kids who think they’ve cheated death by getting off a plane doomed to crash, only to learn that death really hates a cheat. The elaborate Rube Goldberg kills in this series are the reason for its existence and longevity, and while some have mined this formula with more fiendish cleverness than others (e.g. “Final Destination 2” and “Final Destination 3”), they’re all eminently watchable.

Though the character of Hannibal Lecter is a supporting role in Jonathan Demme’s “Silence of the Lambs," Anthony Hopkins imbued him with such charismatically erudite menace that he won Best Actor at the 1992 Academy Awards, and not a single sensible individual complained. Lecter was, at the time, a one-of-a-kind monster; you were drawn to him, and you desperately wanted his approval. So did Jodie Foster’s Clarice Starling, though she was smart enough to know his endearment was an invitation to slaughter. That’s what made Ridley Scott’s “Hannibal” so fascinating: Knowing that Lecter is out in the real world, regardless of his promise at the end of “Silence" is like having tangible proof that the devil exists. “Red Dragon” is a moron’s version of “Manhunter."

Horror (particularly at a studio level) was in dire straits in 1996 when director Wes Craven and screenwriter Kevin Williamson gave the genre a meta, blockbuster makeover with “Scream." It threw everyone for a loop: studio execs started fast-tracking every half-decent horror script they could get their hands on, while critics, who’d loathed the first wave of slashers, found themselves praising the reinvented sub-genre. “Scream 2” was famously rushed through production, but while it lacks the novel snap of the original, it still contains some thrilling set pieces. “Scream 3” reeked of obligation, while “Scream 4” was a simultaneously overworked and undercooked attempt to revive the series. 

Ask most people to name the most iconic Dracula of the 20th century, and they’ll likely fire back with Bela Lugosi. But those with a taste for the bloody stuff might very well go with Christopher Lee, who feasted on many a neck as the Count over six movies. His arch-nemesis was Peter Cushing’s Van Helsing, who appeared in two of the best entries (“House of Dracula” and “Dracula A.D. 1972”) while also turning up in the uninspired “The Satanic Rites of Dracula." The most underrated of the bunch: Freddie Francis’ “Dracula Has Risen from the Grave."

The 1980s’ quasi-respectable slasher franchise kicked off with Wes Craven’s all-timer and then got bold — though very few critics picked up on it at the time — with “Freddy’s Revenge," which centers on a protagonist who’s struggling with his repressed homosexuality. “A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors” brought in up-and-comers Chuck Russell and Frank Darabont to work a more conventional, almost superhero-esque riff on the sub-genre, while Renny Harlin’s “A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master” cemented Freddy Krueger’s persona as a quippy beast. The series stalled out until Craven returned for the daringly meta 1994’s “New Nightmare." The 2010 Platinum Dunes remake is an abomination.

William Friedkin’s adaptation of William Peter Blatty’s “The Exorcist” was one of the biggest hits in film history upon its initial release in 1973, which meant Warner Bros. would’ve been fiscally remiss to not at least try to make a sequel. Would the studio go in a completely different direction and tell a new story or rehash the characters and incidents of the first movie? Under John Boorman’s direction, it tried to do both, resulting in one of the most fascinating big-studio botches you’ll ever see. Much better was “The Exorcist III," directed by Blatty himself and based on his novel “Legion." Blatty’s mix of gallows humor and nightmare-inducing terror deserved better from critics (and has found a devoted cult following over the last few decades). Paul Schrader tried to do a thoughtful, theological riff on the series with the fourth film but was fired and replaced with the decidedly un-thoughtful Renny Harlin. Both versions have been released, and neither is any good. 

Despite its relative paucity of gore, Tobe Hooper’s terrifying classic frequently gets mischaracterized as one of the bloodiest movies ever made — oftentimes by those who’ve actually seen it! Alas, it’s just the viewer’s imagination running off into the darkest reaches of human depravity. For those who needed to see what Leatherface gets up to when that steel door slides ominously shut, Hooper slaked their bloodthirstiness and then some with the deliriously satiric, unrated sequel. After two commercially unsuccessful sequels (1990’s “Leatherface: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre III” and 1995’s “Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation," both of which have their defenders), Michael Bay’s Platinum Dunes breathed stylish new life into the franchise with the popular 2003 remake, but the newfangled approach lost all audience appeal with the fetid prequel “The Beginning." Since then the saw’s run out of juice with the awful “Texas Chainsaw 3D” and the semi-interesting failure “Letherface."

The film that kicked off the slasher craze is about as good as it gets horror-wise. The sequels/remakes/reboots that followed have ranged from terrific (2018’s “Halloween” and “Halloween III: Season of the Witch”) to competent (“Halloween II," “Halloween 4: The Return of Michael Myers” and “Halloween H20: 20 Years Later”) to doo-doo (“Halloween 5: The Revenge of Michael Myers” and “Halloween: The Curse of Michael Myers”) to jumbo doo-doo (“Halloween: Resurrection”) to whatever the hell Rob Zombie was trying to accomplish with his atonal pair of late ‘00s reimaginings. That’s an outstanding hit-to-miss ratio for a horror franchise, and it will hopefully improve with David Gordon Green’s “Halloween Kills” in 2020.

This is the crown jewel of Universal’s monster series, primarily on the strength of James Whale’s “Frankenstein” and “Bride of Frankenstein." The latter is one of the finest, most heartbreaking horror films of all time (certainly one of the greatest sequels), which is likely due to Whale’s profound connection to the outcast nature of his characters (though friends and colleagues dispute any homoerotic reading). Karloff is skillful, veering from fright to tenderness to fury as the monster set the template for every subsequent portrayal. Lugosi joins the fun in “Son of Frankenstein” and gives one of his best performances as Ygor.

What started as a shoestring-financed, single-location horror flick, became, in the words of the great Joe Bob Briggs, the ultimate “spam-in-a-cabin” movie. Sam Raimi delivered more than non-stop gore; he employed inventive camera angles and cinematic techniques that alerted viewers that they were watching more than a typical exploitation movie. The cult popularity of the first film brought us the gozo “Evil Dead 2: Dead by Dawn," which transformed Bruce Campbell’s Ash into a chainsaw-wielding, mishap-prone hero. The third movie, “Army of Darkness," literally went medieval on Ash, pitting him against a legion of “Deadites." The subsequent TV series was fun, and the remake worked well enough, but the first three films are aces.

As the creator of the modern zombie movie, George A. Romero could’ve easily turned the sequels to “Night of the Living Dead” into red-meat gorefests, but the Pittsburgh auteur had more on his mind. Lots more. Each installment — “Dawn of the Dead," “Day of the Dead," “Land of the Dead," “Diary of the Dead” and “Survival of the Dead” — provided incisive commentary on our decaying sociopolitical landscape, and if the old man were still with us today (and, god, do we miss him), he’d be serving up a big, steaming plate of “told-you-so”… in the form of a new zombie movie, natch.