Finding Faith in Frightening Films: Five Horror Flicks That Dig Deeper

faith in horror movies

For a lot of Christians, horror movies are a hard pass. First off, who wants to be scared? Who wants your kids to be scared? So many horror flicks lean into graphic and salacious gore. And supernatural horror films bring, shall we say, a legion of other problems to the table, be it ghosts or witchcraft or the downright diabolic. I know I’ve received many a letter from many a parent, worried that a supernaturally tinged film could open unwanted doors for their children.

I think that all those are excellent reasons to bypass horror flicks and look for something nicer. Philippians 4:8 tells us to concentrate on whatever is honorable, just, pure, lovely and commendable. Horror films, by their very nature, can feel like the opposite.

But horror flicks can come with a flip side.

Horror films often deal directly with the subject of spirituality. They ask the biggest of big questions: What is evil, and what can we do about it? What happens after we die? How can we live in a fallen world? How can we stay true to what we believe in? While a lot of these fright flicks answer these questions incorrectly from a Christian point of view, the fact that they’re even asking those questions can give us an excuse to think about—and talk about—our own views on the matter.

And sometimes these films can take us quite a bit deeper. Let’s take a look at some of them, and what good, often spiritually edifying, themes they come with.

The Power of Darkness—and the Triumph of Light

Nosferatu (1922, NR)

Let’s begin with the oldest, and still surprisingly creepy, film on our list: The original Nosferatu. Made in 1922 and based loosely on Bram Stoker’s book “Dracula,” Nosferatu gives us a hideously rat-like vampire in its title character. Count Orlok, as he’s called here, moves from his Transylvanian castle to the German hamlet of Wisborg. Orlok is immortal and imbued with very serious power, but there is hope: It’s said that if a woman of pure heart offers the vampire her blood of her own free will, he might be distracted enough to linger until the break of dawn—and then be destroyed by the sun’s rays.

Right from the get-go, you have a small echo of Christ’s sacrifice for us in the face of the world’s evil and darkness. But I also love the symbolism here of Orlok dying in the light of day. Evil thrives in darkness, of course; sins are almost always hidden. But evil also lies, telling us that this thing or that act will fulfill us. But the light of truth banishes those lies and exposes those sins, just as Orlok is destroyed by the light of the sun. That’s a message I can get behind.

One final note before we move on. Other manifestations of Stoker’s story, particularly the 1931 movie Dracula, magnify another aspect of evil: how beguiling and tempting it can be. That’s an important theme to consider, too. The 2024 remake of Nosferatu effectively blends both the vampire’s absolute evil with that diabolic sense of temptation, and the movie’s conclusions land in a good place. However, that remake’s content problems might be as extreme as you’ll likely see in any film, so I’d definitely caution against that one.

Don’t Play God

Frankenstein (1931, NR)

Another classic monster movie, Frankenstein is, in my opinion, far better, and far spookier, than 1931’s Dracula. And the story is quite familiar to us all. Dr. Frankenstein gets it in his head to pull life from death. He patches together a creature (known as “The Monster”) out of spare body parts and slaps a subpar brain into the thing, then jump-starts his creation with a little electricity.

The movie’s most famous quotation might well be “It’s alive!” But Frankenstein gives us the most telling quote just a second or two later: “Now I know what it feels like to be God!” That’s … not great. It echoes the Tower of Babylon and, perhaps, our own drive to create self-thinking artificial intelligence who, its creators hope, will outdo them. And it’s a theme that we’ve seen again and again in both books and movies.

Frankenstein is also a powerful illustration of what is sometimes referred to as the prince of sins: pride. Pride is what Lucifer fell to, and pride is what we all succumb to when we think we know better than our Creator. Things do not go well for either Frankenstein or his monster. And as society’s own technology and ambitions grow as its belief in God dwindles, that’s an important message to take to heart.

But what about 2025’s Netflix version of Frankenstein? You might ask. Well, the film certainly emphasizes the sinful pride of its titular mad scientist. Its tagline suggests as such, telling us that “Only monsters play God.” But in stressing the scientist’s monstrosity, it turns the actual monster into an almost divine creature—and given that the monster is manmade, that can hardly be the case. Also, like the 2024 remake of Nosferatu, the problematic content is pretty extreme.

(Oh, and if you want more talk about the spirituality involving the OG Frankenstein, check out our Plugged In Rewind on The Bride of Frankenstein below.)

Everything Has a Purpose

Signs (2002, PG-13)

One-time Episcopal priest Graham Hess has grown estranged from his faith after the tragic death of his wife. Fast-forward a bit, and that same priest is doing his best to raise his two kids with a little help from his younger brother, a failed minor-league baseball player. All those circumstances would be hard enough. But when the world is invaded by aliens, things quickly take a turn for the worse. Or they do until Graham discovers that all the heartbreaking meaningless in his life might’ve had more meaning than he realized.

Listen, I’m not going to deny that Signs has a couple of narrative problems. But if you ask me, this was director M. Night Shyamalan’s last great film (until he makes another great film), and one predicated on a critical, glorious idea: God is in control. It expresses cinematically something that I often tell myself when my own life gets oh so confusing and sad: When all I see is threads, the Lord is weaving a tapestry—and one day, either in this life or the next, I’ll see it.

The Devil is Real

The Exorcism of Emily Rose (2005, PG-13)

The Exorcism of Emily Rose starts off on a grim note: A woman has died from an apparent botched exorcism, and the Catholic priest who was “treating” her has been charged in court with negligent homicide. Open-and-shut case, right? He has to be at fault because there’s no such thing as possession. But hold the phone: The exorcist goes to court to prove that the devil does exist, and he’s helped in the case by a hot-shot atheist lawyer who comes to doubt her own unbelief.

Most exorcism movies are predicated on the demonic—and most also embrace the primacy of God. William Peter Blatty, author of the original book “The Exorcist,” said that his work was intended to be “a sermon that no one could possibly sleep through.” But director Scott Derrickson’s film here takes the matter one step further and, in a way, takes the devil to court. It’s an interesting twist on the standard possession story, and one with some legitimately scary moments, too.

Processing a Fallen World

Relic (2020, R)

Of all the films on this list, Relic is likely the most obscure (this Australian film made less than $3 million worldwide), most challenging (it’s rated R) and weirdest horror flick on this list. But it’s a powerful one—and one that reflects what many of the best horror movies have always been about: the bigger themes floating underneath the surface.

Relic’s story launches with the mysterious multiday absence of a family matriarch. Her worried daughter and somewhat headstrong granddaughter travel back to the family homestead to find her. And they do, but she’s changed. The film suggests that she’s been possessed by some unknown entity. But you don’t have to dig too deeply to see the movie is really about losing a loved one to dementia. When someone’s stricken with Alzheimer’s or a similar condition, it can indeed feel like the person you’ve known all your life has been replaced by someone, or something, else. I was processing a very similar loss when I reviewed the film, so it hit me hard. And it struck me as being painfully true.

Horror movies often tell one story on the surface and another underneath. The Babadook tackles mental illness. It Follows feels like it was about venereal disease. Way back in 1956, The Invasion of the Body Snatchers dealt with, in some readings, Communism and conformity and, in others, McCarthyism.

The horror genre indeed tends to deal with weighty, often spiritual issues. And certainly, you should read our reviews and consider those issues before diving into any scary flick. But every now and then, you’ll find one that does more than frighten. It will make you think—think about our world, our culture and our God. I know a handful of believers who came to faith (or came back to it) because a horror movie pointed them down a better road.

Paul Asay

Paul Asay has been part of the Plugged In staff since 2007, watching and reviewing roughly 15 quintillion movies and television shows. He’s written for a number of other publications, too, including Time, The Washington Post and Christianity Today. The author of several books, Paul loves to find spirituality in unexpected places, including popular entertainment, and he loves all things superhero. His vices include James Bond films, Mountain Dew and terrible B-grade movies. He’s married, has two children and a neurotic dog, runs marathons on occasion and hopes to someday own his own tuxedo. Feel free to follow him on Twitter @AsayPaul.

One Response

  1. I’m glad that you’re reviewing older movies. There should be a process on this website for people to request a review of a movie that is neither new nor popular.

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