Are you looking for a good scare but don’t know where to begin? The good news is that Amazon Prime has a lot of terrific horror movies, even if the suggested title algorithm doesn’t always bring the best to the top. Are you looking for something timeless? Choose one of the following films: The Silence of the Lambs or Night of the Living Dead. Have you seen those before and are seeking for something different? No worries; Amazon’s video service is constantly updated with new titles such as Sinister, Suspiria, and The Lighthouse. There’s a lot to choose from, whether you’re looking for zombies, witches, horror-comedy, or pretty much anything else.
Nobody wants to get lost in the endless streaming scroll, so we’ve compiled a list of the greatest horror movies streaming on Amazon Prime right now to help you sort the good from the bad. Prepare your popcorn, grab your slanket, and settle in for some eerie fun. This list will be updated and expanded on a regular basis, so check back often for new titles and recommendations.
Still seeking for something eerie, but can’t seem to find it? Check out our most recent update on the Best Horror Movies on Netflix Right Now. Visit the Best Movies on Amazon Prime Right Now and Best TV Shows on Amazon Prime Right Now pages for more streaming suggestions. Best Netflix Movies Right Now, Best Netflix TV Shows Right Now, and Best Netflix Sci-Fi Movies Right Now
Alien
Ridley Scott’s iconic 1979 film set the standard for sci-fi horror, and it still holds up as one of the scariest, most beautifully produced films of all time – not just in the genre. Scott created the franchise as a haunted house in space before it evolved into a more action-oriented approach. Except it’s not a creepy ghost chasing you; it’s H.R. Giger’s unique alien design, from egg-laying face-huggers to viscerally horrible chest-bursters, all the way up to the enormous, armored, acid-spewing Xenomorph. It’s breathtaking to witness how well the production value holds up over time, and Scott’s dream-logic approach provides fertile ground for all kinds of terror, from bodily violation to killer robots to a gigantic fucking alien that drips acid. Alien probably has it, whatever it is that scares you. It’s a true classic, and it’s always a good choice for a good scare.
Ginger Snaps
Outside of horror circles, John Fawcett’s take on the werewolf mythos should be counted among the modern monster classics, and easily one of the best werewolf films, yet it’s all too often overlooked. Ginger Snaps is a coming-of-age narrative told through lycanthropy about two death-obsessed, co-dependent sisters who are gradually pulled apart when the older girl begins to shift after a werewolf attack. Ginger Snaps was an early adopter of the 21st-century trend of addressing female puberty through monster transformation (see also: Teeth, Wildling, Revenge, and many others), and it does so effectively, but it’s also a genuinely well-made horror picture. The effects are spot-on, the characters are relatable and sympathetic (even the cruel girl in high school, the neighborhood drug dealer, and the lusty adolescent lad) and the actors are all fully invested in their pulpy parts. Ginger Snaps cleverly twists a number of themes, including sexuality, sisterhood, loneliness, outsider pride, and the yearning to belong, and in doing so, it breathes new life into one of horror’s oldest genres.
Hell House LLC
Don’t be deceived by Amazon’s erroneous classification. This is a found footage – and wholly fictional – film, not a documentary. The inexplicable deaths of 15 tourists and employees at a Halloween haunted attraction called Hell House haunt the little hamlet of Abaddon in upstate New York. A documentary crew sets out to investigate the killings, and along the way, they come across images, film footage… and a survivor willing to speak publicly about what happened. The discovered footage subgenre gets a disturbing new component with this film.
Despite the fact that the zombies in George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead are referred to as “ghouls,” this is the picture that gave birth to the modern-day cinematic zombie: blank, unthinking monsters who walk around with vacant glances and barely retain any semblance of humanity. As a result, the thrill of a zombie movie has traditionally been in seeing how our brainy heroes destroy them with ruthless efficiency and cruelty. After all, they’re no longer human.
Re-watch Romero’s film and try not to feel sympathy for the “ghouls” more than the majority of the humanity. Prejudice, xenophobia, and selfishness are the most common learnt characteristics among living humans. After courageously fighting the ghouls, the most selfless non-ghoul we follow (Duane Jones) is famously shot solely because the man on the other end of the rifle reacts suspiciously to his skin tone. However, Romero incorporates a number of other themes of authority skepticism throughout Night of the Living Dead. In 1968, public opinion on the Vietnam War and police practices during the Civil Rights Movement had altered to the point that law enforcement, generals, and troops could no longer be trusted to have the best of intentions. After all, they’re human, and many humans feel malice toward others. Try not to think of any xenophobic conflict or a dreadful systemic view of the “other” as you watch the formerly human ghouls being dragged out by meat hooks and burned in a pile.
Phantasm
Don Coscarelli is a highly eccentric and singular filmmaker who creates films that only he could produce. You can always tell when the Coscarelli imprint is on something, whether it’s his retirement home-set mummy flick Bubba Ho-Tep or the nearly incomprehensible John Dies at the End; a tendency that dates back to his 1979 cult film Phantasm. The Tall Man, played by Angus Scrimm, is introduced in Phantasm, which follows two adolescent brothers as they investigate inexplicable deaths in their village, bringing them to Scrimm’s menacing undertaker and his realm of parallel dimension horrors. The world can appear untethered, senseless, and terrible in the face of sorrow, but it also feels like a new world opens up in front of you; a world where anything is conceivable, except horrific things are also possible. When you’re in the midst of that mortality-confronting dilemma, Phantasm feels like the dreams you have. It’s a true one-of-a-kind, jam-packed with dream logic and vivid nightmare visuals that feel drawn from humanity’s collective fear of death, but it’s nevertheless funny and enjoyable because to Coscarelli’s touch.
Resolution
Resolution is a slow-burning, surprisingly expansive existential thriller that conjures a complete universe from the confines of an isolated cabin, directed by Justin Benson and Aaron Moorhead, who also directed Spring and The Endless. Petter Cilella and Vinny Curran play as two old friends who come to the cabin for a get-away — but one has no idea that the other is planning to keep them there by whatever means necessary until he destroys his friend’s drug habit. Benson’s script builds a Lovecraftian nightmare from that character drama when an unknown, unseen power begins giving them messages and toying with them, further confining them in their dismal little pit of sorrow. It’s a long build that culminates in an unforgettable ending, and it’s rich in mythology to the point where Benson and Moorhead have created an entire cinematic universe out of it. In fact, once you’ve finished Resolution, you may watch the semi-sequel The Endless on Netflix.
Sinister
Sinister follows a novelist, Ellison Oswalt (Ethan Hawke), who, unbeknownst to his family, moves them into a house that was the scene of a brutal murder in the hopes of finding inspiration. In the attic, Ellison discovers a box of film reels that turn out to be horrible snuff films with an esoteric bent. Ellison becomes obsessed with the crimes, but is it his own preoccupation or is the Oswalt family being haunted by a demonic force? Between the “snuff flicks,” which were actually shot on Super 8 to give it a realistic feel, and the sparse, sharp sound design, this is a terrifying film that should be avoided during the day.
Suspiria
Luca Guadagnino, the director of Call Me By Your Name, delivers all of his sensuality and craftsmanship to 2018’s Suspiria. Suspiria depicts its tremendous magical darkness via the context of generational strife and fascist powerplay, embedding the supernatural in the psychological to extraordinary results. It’s more of a sibling film to Dario Argento’s renowned horror masterpiece than an outright remake. Suspiria is a phantasmagoria of violence, magic, and movement that feels like it’s been ripped from the pages of some forgotten ritual. In Guadagnino’s coven, art, dance, horror, and the human spirit all come out to play, conjuring the strange and a sense of true witchcraft that is as stirring and profound as it is occasionally horrifying. Give yourself over to the dancing, for Guadagnino’s film won’t let you down.
The Lighthouse
With his debut feature, The Witch, director Robert Eggers received widespread critical praise, captivated audiences, and helped cement the A24 horror brand. So how could he top his first performance with his second? With a completely insane, terrible, and weirdly hilarious legendary tale about two men driven insane on a little island with only each other and their farts for company. This one is more horror-adjacent than overtly scary, but there are enough moments of grim, harsh, and existentially horrifying throughlines to deserve a slot on this list.
The Lighthouse is a two-hander that validates Eggers as a singular voice and force of revolutionary formalist filmmaking that builds new nightmares from the technical tools of classical cinema. It stars Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe in stunning performances. What a delight. The Lighthouse is the pirate-talking, bean-snacking, gods and monsters isolationist nightmare of a movie nerd’s fantasies. It’s truly unique, bizarre, and ballsy as heck from all involved. After you’ve been completely perplexed, read Vinnie Mancuso’s great examination of the bizarre conclusion.
The Reef
The Reef is a masterful exercise in tension that accomplishes a lot with a small budget. The video follows four friends as they head out to see the Great Barrier Reef but become stuck at sea after their boat capsizes. They make the difficult decision to swim out into shark-infested waters with the few items they scavenge rather than wait for a minuscule hope of rescue on their sinking ship. Once in the water, however, a bloodthirsty great white follows their scent and hunts them down one by one.
Andrew Traucki, the writer/director, takes just enough time to create some dramatic background before unleashing horrific suspense with the collision and never letting up, creating a slow burn until the shark’s unveiling, which will steal your breath away. The first shark attack in The Reef was recorded with actual sharks, and it’s a gorgeous, terrifying experience that will have you curling up your toes in fear. (Thanks in large part to the actors, who sell the dread with each guttural scream and ashen grimace.) The Reef is a tense, technically accomplished survival thriller with one truly scary shark. There is one egregiously ignorant character, and the climax is a touch abrupt and brutal, but generally, The Reef is a frantic, technically accomplished survival thriller with one seriously scary shark.
The Silence of the Lambs
The Silence of the Lambs is one of only a few films to win the Big Four Oscars (Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Director, and Best Picture), and you’ll understand why once you’ve watched it. Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) is a young FBI agent sent to a task team tasked with tracking down Buffalo Bill, a serial murderer who wears his victims’ flesh as clothing. With no leads, she enlists the help of Dr. Hannibal Lecter (Anthony Hopkins), a brilliant sociopath who is known to eat his victims, who is currently imprisoned. It’s a stressful, uncompromising picture with quiet sequences of psychological anxiety interspersed with scenes of blatant violence and gore.
The Vast of Night
The independent sci-fi picture The Vast of Night is a great surprise and one of the best films of 2020. The movie follows a switchboard operator (Sierra McCormick) and a radio DJ (Jake Horowitz) as they investigate a weird sound coming through the radio during a big high school basketball game in 1950s New Mexico. That idea could go wrong in a variety of ways, but Vast of Night delights at every turn. It’s Spielbergian in the sense that it plainly takes inspiration from films like E.T. and Close Encounters of the Third Kind, but it also has its own voice and aesthetic. The highly engaging screenplay is chock-full of hilariously crackerjack banter that harkens back to screwball comedies from the 1940s and 1950s, while Andrew Patterson’s directing favors lengthy takes and distinctive shots to build suspense while the plot unfolds in real time. With a layer of Twilight Zone-style fear thrown in for good measure, The Vast of Night is a picture you won’t soon forget, establishing its authors, director, and cast as up-and-coming talent.
The Wailing
Observing The Waling is akin to seeing something that humanity was never meant to see. It’s peering through the holes in a creaky curtain that was purposefully left ajar, and immediately wishing you hadn’t because there’s surely something creepy as hell back there. When his duty leads him to a succession of terrible killings, Kwak Do-everyman Wan’s investigator Jong-Goo is lured into the nasty domain of demons and spirits. Each murder is committed by a bewildered offender who has developed a horrible rash, and when he wakes up to discover his daughter has developed the same rash, his life quickly spirals out of control as he desperately seeks to trace the source of the epidemic. Director Hong-jin Na keeps the action moving and the surprises coming (including one of the best on-screen uses of lightning ever), and he doesn’t seem to be afraid of the dark or the gory. I won’t lie: The Wailing is also a little perplexing on first viewing, especially for a Western spectator, yet, like the film itself, delving deeper into its meaning just appears to bring out more horrors.
The Neon Demon
Nicholas Winding is a character in the film Nicholas Winding Refn undoubtedly understands how to create a contentious film. Refn’s Neon Demon, like Only God Forgives before it, was booed at Cannes and received mixed reviews from reviewers and audiences. That isn’t all that shocking. It’s both explicit and oblique, and it appears to be intent on making the viewer as uncomfortable as possible as much as possible. It’s also breathtakingly beautiful, but it’s up to Refn to produce a shallow film about the dangers of shallowness. Jesse, played by Elle Fanning, is a manipulative adolescent on the verge of becoming a monster. She has “that thing” that everyone wants, and she knows it. Jesse, who is rapidly rising through the ranks of the fashion industry, believes her own hype and goes full Narcissus, provoking the wrath of three seasoned industry insiders who covet her youth, natural beauty, and quick success. Along the way, things get a little out of hand. Beautiful women bathed in blood, brilliant Technicolor visions of cannibalism and self-worship, and way too much necrophilia abound in the Neon Demon. Regardless, it’s a remarkable visual achievement, and it never sacrifices character for shock, instead entangling both in each other. Although the Neon Demon doesn’t have much to say, what it does say is amazing.
The Greasy Strangler
The Greasy Strangler is a blast, and I’m not lying when I say it’s not for everyone. Since its Sundance premiere earlier this year, Jim Hosking’s feature film debut has elicited a lot of pearl clutching and gasps of horror, and it’s easy to see why — it’s absurd, unapologetic, and indecent by just about every conventional standard, but the beauty of The Greasy Strangler is that it doesn’t care about conventional standards at all. Forget about photoshop, narrative guidebooks, and all the other small checkboxes that must be checked when a film attempts to be a four-quadrant picture. The Greasy Strangler is Grindhouse incarnate, a late-night film spawned from the very essence of late-night cinema, guaranteed to make you cringe, chuckle, and recite one-liners you’ll never forget.
Triangle
Following his 2006 film Severance, which put a charmingly sarcastic take on the backwoods slasher genre, writer-director Christopher Smith became even more imaginative with his following picture, the time loop mind-bender Triangle. Triangle follows a group of friends on a yachting vacation through the Bermuda Triangle, where they escape to a passing ocean liner in the midst of a horrible storm, and is centered on Melissa George’s Jess, a lady with an undiscovered source of anguish underneath her surface-level calm. When they board, they discover the massive ship has been abandoned, and they’re being pursued by a hooded deadly figure who looks to be the only other person on board. Triangle is tough to discuss without giving away many of its creative twists and turns, but a brutal time loop continuously thrusts the gang into the nightmare scenario where Jess emerges at the center of a mystery that may just hold the answer to their escape. Smith makes the most of his twisting premise with a carefully crafted narrative of overlapping times, as well as a lot of dramatic and inventive images that depict the agony of being trapped in an endless time loop.
Train to Busan
When it was released in 2016, this Korean zombie film was claimed to have re-energized the subgenre. When a virus epidemic turns commuters into zombies, passengers on a bullet train from Seoul to Busan must battle for their lives. It’s like “zombies on a train,” but without the cheesiness. This frantic portrayal of zombie lunacy is drenched in action and gore.
Vivarium
If you enjoy Twilight Zone-inspired limited tales of horror and existential dread, Amazon has plenty of horror movies to watch this month. Lorcan Finegan’s Vivarium is bleak and depressing, yet it’s also a great awful time. Imogen Poots and Jesse Eisenberg act as a young couple on the lookout for their first home but find themselves stuck in a bizarre suburban area with no way out. They can’t get out no matter how many streets they drive through or how many fences they jump over. Then there’s the nightmare baby. Vivarium is a great picture of the miseries of being trapped in a white-picket-fence life you never desired on the surface, but the scarier, much more effective undertone comes from the film’s acceptance of nature’s merciless indifference and the helplessness of being stuck in them.
