How scary movies hold up a mirror to society

With spooky season underway, scary movies are back in theaters and at the top of streaming platform watch lists. But the genre is more than just seasonal entertainment.

Amy Lubitow, an environmental sociologist at Portland State, teaches Sociology of Horror, a course that explores how horror has changed alongside culture from the 1960s to today, and how the genre reflects the society that produces it.

"It gives us a reason to be scared together and then to laugh about it together," Lubitow said. "There's something pretty wonderful about leaving a movie thinking, 'Okay, that was terrifying,' and immediately wanting to talk about it with everyone else who just experienced it."

We caught up with Lubitow to discuss the genre, touching on everything from why horror is best enjoyed with others to queer representation, and to get her film picks for this year's Halloween watch list.

While horror has devoted fans year-round, October tends to be when scary movies become a season ritual for many viewers. What is it about horror that keeps audiences coming back year after year?

I think horror films provide really fantastic forms of connection; whether it means going to a movie theater on a Friday night and enjoying the collective experience of watching something scary with 100 other people, or hunkering down at home with your friends and favorite snacks, horror films create spaces for social connection - even if we're looking at a screen together.

The adrenaline rush of certain scary scenes and sharing a laugh at the comedic undertones of a film, horror films are really exceptional at tapping into our physical senses and creating connection that is beyond just the intellectual. You can really feel the experience of watching one and I think that makes it something that people still love to experience in community with other people.

You teach students to look at horror through a sociological lens. What does that lens reveal that a casual viewer might miss?

A sociological lens allows students to see how structural inequalities (such as racism, sexism and class inequality) shape horror both on screen and behind the scenes.

On screen, we can ask: Who is represented, and who is missing? Who is most likely to die first, who survives and who gets to be the hero? Behind the scenes, we can examine whose stories get told, which directors and writers are given creative freedom and how diversity within the industry shapes the films that ultimately get made.

Looking at horror this way reveals that these films are not simply isolated stories of monsters or violence; they also reflect broader social structures, cultural assumptions and inequalities.

Horror has been around almost as long as film itself. How have the fears at its center changed over the decades, and what do today's films say about this moment?

In my course, we explore how the fears and anxieties represented in horror films change over time, from the 1960s to the present.

In the 1960s, films such as Psycho and Rosemary's Baby reflected anxieties surrounding women's sexuality, gender roles and changing expectations of family life. In the 1970s, films such as The Exorcist and The Texas Chain Saw Massacre reflected growing concerns about changing family dynamics, social upheaval and the ways children and families might be threatened or corrupted by a rapidly changing world. The 1980s brought a wave of hugely popular slasher franchises (including Friday the 13th, Halloween, and A Nightmare on Elm Street) that often centered on young people navigating a world with limited parental supervision. These films can be read alongside broader cultural anxieties about divorce, two-working-parent households and fears about children being left to navigate an increasingly independent world on their own.

The period from the 1990s to today encompasses a much wider range of horror, but we see increasingly varied and complex explorations of gender, sexuality, race and inequality. From The Silence of the Lambs to Jordan Peele's films, contemporary horror often uses familiar genre conventions to engage with broader social anxieties. In that sense, horror tells us not only what scares us, but also something about what is changing in society - and also what we are struggling to make sense of.

Filmmakers like Jane Schoenbrun, director of the critically acclaimed film Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma, are bringing queer experiences to the center of contemporary horror. How does that change the kinds of stories horror can tell; and what might it mean for queer audiences to see themselves represented in the genre?

When queer artists are involved in making these films, they can bring in experiences, references, humor, images, music and cultural knowledge that might not otherwise make it onto the screen. Sometimes there are little details or inside jokes that speak to queer audiences in a way that allows people to feel seen and connected. At the same time, queer horror can expand the genre for everyone. It gives people who already love horror the chance to encounter a different kind of character or story while still being in this familiar genre that they enjoy. That's one of the things I love about horror: it gives us a space to explore things that might make us uncomfortable or challenge what we think we know.

And there is something really powerful about seeing a character who reminds you of yourself (or someone you know) at the center of a horror movie. For queer audiences, that kind of recognition can be meaningful in ways that go beyond entertainment. It can make people feel connected, excited and like they belong in the world of the movie. Seeing queer people not just survive a horror film, but be the people whose stories are worth telling in the first place, that can be a really powerful thing.

From packed theaters to watch parties, horror is often a group experience. What does watching it together do for a community?

One of the things I love about horror is that it is such a physical experience. You're sitting in a dark theater, your heart is racing, you gasp out loud or grab your friend sitting next to you, and then you look around and realize that everyone else also experienced that. There's something really fun about sharing that adrenaline with other people. And horror can be incredibly funny in those moments, too. We laugh because we're nervous, because something is ridiculous or because we've just survived a particularly terrifying scene together.

I think that creates a really immediate sense of community. You don't necessarily have to know the people sitting next to you to feel connected to them. You're all screaming at the same moment, laughing at the same joke or yelling at the screen because you know the character is about to make a terrible decision. Watch parties do the same thing in a slightly different way: people get to talk back to the movie, pause it, argue about what just happened and share their reactions in real time.

For readers planning a Halloween movie night, what two or three films would you recommend, and what social themes should they watch for?

1. Halloween (1978): Watch it for the peak fall vibes, one of horror's original Final Girls in Laurie Strode and its deliciously creepy suburban anxiety about what happens when the kids are left to run around without adults keeping an eye on them.

2. Us (2019): Jordan Peele's Us rewards you for digging a little deeper into its social meanings...is it about class inequality, slavery, mass incarceration, all three? You get to decide! And, of course, it features a fantastic performance from Lupita Nyong'o.

3. Teenage Sex and Death at Camp Miasma (2026): Please, please go see this one. It's funny, visually so much fun to watch, gloriously campy and gory and features some fantastic sexual tension between everyone's favorite heartthrobs, Hannah Einbinder and Gillian Anderson. There really is something for everyone in this movie.