In an era dominated by digital isolation and lingering pandemics, these films weaponise the unseen to burrow into our psyches, blending raw found footage terror with supernatural dread.

The past five years have witnessed a renaissance in horror cinema, where psychological unease meets supernatural chills, often captured through the gritty authenticity of found footage. From lockdown-induced seances to cursed possessions that defy explanation, the films of 2020 to 2025 have pushed boundaries, exploiting modern fears of technology, isolation, and the intangible horrors lurking just beyond perception. This list curates the top 12 standouts, each dissected for their innovative dread, thematic depth, and lasting impact.

  • The resurgence of found footage as a vessel for psychological torment, amplified by pandemic-era realism.
  • Supernatural narratives that intertwine personal trauma with otherworldly forces, redefining hauntings for the digital age.
  • A countdown of 12 essential films that capture the era’s most unsettling visions, blending innovation with primal fear.

The Digital Seance: Host (2020)

Rob Savage’s Host emerged as a lockdown masterpiece, six friends conducting a séance via Zoom only to summon genuine evil. Shot remotely with iPhones, its found footage style captures the claustrophobia of virtual spaces, where glitches and shadows hint at encroaching malevolence. The film’s power lies in its mimicry of real video calls, complete with screen-sharing mishaps and frozen frames that build unbearable tension. Psychological layers unfold as paranoia fractures the group, each participant grappling with guilt and doubt. Haley, played with raw vulnerability by Haley Bishop, becomes the conduit for the spirit, her possession scenes exploiting webcam distortions for visceral horror. Savage masterfully uses limited resources to evoke the supernatural, turning everyday tech into a portal for the damned. Critics hailed its immediacy, proving found footage could evolve beyond clichés into something profoundly contemporary.

The narrative crescendos in a finale of frantic multitasking, mirrors shattering across split screens, symbolising the fragmentation of reality. Themes of isolation resonate deeply, as the friends’ digital proximity amplifies their emotional distance. Host influenced a wave of remote horrors, demonstrating how supernatural intrusion thrives in mediated experiences.

Haunted Exile: His House (2020)

Remi Weekes’ directorial debut His House follows Sudanese refugees Rial and Bol in a haunted English council house, where ghosts embody the trauma of their past. Blending supernatural apparitions with psychological grief, the film refuses easy jump scares, instead immersing viewers in cultural dislocation. Ṣọpẹ Dìrísù and Wunmi Mosaku deliver powerhouse performances, their characters torn between assimilation and ancestral ties. The house’s peeling walls reveal nightmarish visions of drowned villages, forcing Bol to confront his survivor’s guilt. Weekes draws from real refugee experiences, infusing the supernatural with socio-political weight, making the horror feel urgently human.

Mise-en-scène shines through dim, rain-slicked interiors that mirror the couple’s inner turmoil, while sound design layers whispers in Dinka with creaking floors. The film’s climax recontextualises hauntings as a call to remember, not forget, subverting genre tropes for a poignant meditation on belonging.

Dementia’s Grip: Relic (2020)

Natalie Erika James’ Relic transforms familial dementia into a supernatural metaphor, as Kay and Sam visit grandmother Edna’s decaying home. Black mould spreads like a curse, manifesting physical horrors that parallel cognitive decline. Emily Mortimer and Robyn Nevin anchor the emotional core, their strained bonds fracturing under the weight of inevitable loss. The house itself becomes a character, its labyrinthine layout symbolising the mind’s erosion. James employs subtle body horror, with Edna’s transformation evoking quiet dread rather than gore.

Psychological depth emerges in generational cycles of care and abandonment, the film whispering that we all inherit our monsters. Its Australian outback setting adds isolation, while fungal motifs underscore bodily betrayal. Relic stands as a slow-burn triumph, equating the supernatural with the profoundly real terror of ageing.

Road Rage from Hell: Dashcam (2021)

Another Savage gem, Dashcam unleashes influencer Joy on a chaotic road trip, her car cam capturing demonic encounters. Found footage frenzy peaks in erratic POV shots, blending black metal gigs with supernatural pursuit. Angela Praeger’s unlikable protagonist drives the psychological edge, her denial fuelling escalating atrocities. The film critiques social media narcissism, as livestreams broadcast curses and contortions. Practical effects sell the grotesque, from elongated limbs to impossible births.

Sound design assaults with distorted screams and engine roars, heightening disorientation. Dashcam revels in its abrasiveness, punishing voyeurism with unrelenting chaos, a polarising yet vital evolution of the subgenre.

Desert Abyss: The Outwaters (2022)

Robbie Banfitch stars and directs this ambitious found footage descent into Mojave madness. Four filmmakers vanish while shooting music videos, their recovered tapes revealing cosmic horrors. Psychological unraveling begins with seismic rumbles, escalating to interdimensional rifts and body-melting visions. Banfitch’s commitment to immersion shines in hours of unedited footage, mimicking real distress calls. Themes of ambition clashing with the unknown evoke Blair Witch lineage, but with Lovecraftian scope.

Low-budget ingenuity crafts portals from practical illusions, the film’s runtime demanding viewer endurance. The Outwaters redefines found footage scale, blurring psychological breakdown with supernatural apocalypse.

Curse Unseen: Incantation (2022)

Taiwanese hit Incantation breaks the fourth wall, urging viewers to recite a forbidden incantation via found footage. Li Ronan’s mother protects daughter Dodo from a cult’s curse, spiralling into nightmarish rituals. Director Kevin Ko weaves folklore with modern vlogging, taboo symbols triggering hallucinations. Psychological guilt haunts Ronan, her performance raw amid escalating grotesqueries like flayed faces and writhing masses.

Cultural specificity enriches the supernatural, drawing from Buddhist and animist traditions. Viewer complicity amplifies dread, making Incantation a viral, interactive terror.

Grinning Curse: Smile (2022)

Parker Finn’s Smile unleashes a rictus entity passed via traumatic suicides, preying on therapist Rose Cotter (Sosie Bacon). Psychological horror mounts through gaslighting visions, blurring sanity and curse. Bacon’s unraveling is riveting, her smiles masking desperation. Cinematography employs wide angles to isolate her, while the entity’s design chills with uncanny familiarity.

Influenced by Ringu, it explores inherited trauma, culminating in a gut-wrenching twist. Smile spawned a franchise, cementing its cultural bite.

Hand of Possession: Talk to Me (2023)

The Philippou brothers’ Talk to Me turns a mummified hand into a viral party game, inviting spirits for 90 seconds. Mia (Sophie Wilde) loses herself to grief-fuelled possessions, supernatural chaos ripping friendships apart. Psychological addiction mirrors drug culture, embalmed corpses and vomit evoking raw excess. Effects blend practical and VFX for visceral impacts.

Aussie genre innovation shines, the film’s empathy elevating beyond shocks to probe mourning’s darkness.

Demonic Broadcast: Late Night with the Devil (2024)

Colin and Cameron Cairnes’ faux 1970s broadcast sees Jack Delroy (David Dastmalchian) summon evil live on air. Found footage pastiche with period authenticity, psychological ambition drives Delroy’s pact. Dastmalchian’s tour-de-force anchors escalating possessions, set design recreating tacky talk shows turned infernal.

Satirising media sensationalism, it blends nostalgia with fresh dread, a period perfect nightmare.

Manor of Madness: Hell House LLC Origins: The Carmichael Manor (2023)

Stephen Cognetti expands the found footage saga in a prequel probing the manor’s clownish horrors. Investigators uncover ritualistic pasts, psychological fear compounded by masked entities. Long takes build suffocating tension, lore deepening the franchise’s mythology.

Minimalist scares hit hard, rewarding fans with layered supernatural history.

Satanic Serial: Longlegs (2024)

Osgood Perkins’ Longlegs pits FBI agent Lee Harker (Maika Monroe) against cryptic killer Nicolas Cage’s Longlegs. Psychological profiling meets satanic codes, cold war aesthetics amplifying unease. Monroe’s stoic intensity contrasts Cage’s unhinged mania, sound design whispering dread.

A slow-burn triumph, it evokes Silence of the Lambs with occult twists.

Faith Fractured: Heretic (2024)

Scott Beck and Bryan Woods’

Heretic

traps missionaries in Hugh Grant’s intellectual lair, faith tested by twisted theology. Psychological cat-and-mouse dissects belief, Grant’s charm curdling into menace. Dialogue-heavy tension rivals The Invitation, supernatural hints lurking in scripture.

A cerebral closer, questioning dogma’s horrors.

Director in the Spotlight: Rob Savage

Rob Savage, born in 1989 in the UK, rose from indie shorts to horror prominence during the 2020 pandemic. Self-taught via online filmmaking communities, his early work like The Phase (2017) explored lucid dreaming terrors. Host (2020), conceived in lockdown, became Shudder’s biggest hit, praised for ingenuity. He followed with Dashcam (2021), doubling down on abrasive found footage. Savage draws from REC and Paranormal Activity, but infuses social commentary. His third feature, The Boogeyman (2023), adapted Stephen King for studios, blending practical effects with emotional depth. Upcoming projects include Never Let Go (2024) with Halle Berry. Influences span J-horror to British folk tales; he’s vocal on ethical horror in interviews. Filmography: The Phase (2017, short psychological horror); Host (2020, Zoom séance found footage); Dashcam (2021, road-trip demon hunt); The Boogeyman (2023, grief manifests monster); Never Let Go (2024, isolation cabin thriller). Savage exemplifies adaptable, tech-savvy horror evolution.

Actor in the Spotlight: Maika Monroe

Maika Monroe, born Dillon Monroe in 1993 in Santa Barbara, California, transitioned from kiteboarding pro to scream queen. Discovered in At Any Price (2012), she exploded with It Follows (2014), her Jay evading a stalking entity with poised terror. California roots shaped her athleticism, evident in action-horrors. Greta (2018) paired her with Isabelle Huppert for psych-stalker thrills; Villains (2019) showcased dark comedy edge. Post-2020, Longlegs (2024) as occult-hunting agent cements her status. Awards include Fright Meter nods; she’s selective, prioritising strong roles. Personal life private, she champions indie films. Filmography: It Follows (2014, supernatural pursuit); The Guest (2014, killer infiltrator); Greta (2018, obsessive stalker); Watcher (2022, voyeur paranoia); Longlegs (2024, satanic serial investigation); God Is a Bullet (2023, revenge thriller). Monroe’s intensity and vulnerability define modern final girls.

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Bibliography

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Cairnes, C. and Cairnes, C. (2024) Late Night with the Devil: Bringing 70s TV to Hell. Fangoria, (May). Available at: https://fangoria.com/late-night-devil-interview/ (Accessed 10 October 2024).

James, N.E. (2021) Relic and the Horror of Inheritance. Sight and Sound, 30(4), pp.45-47.

Ko, K. (2022) Incantation: Taiwanese Curses on Screen. Netflix Production Notes. Available at: https://about.netflix.com/en/news/incantation-behind-scenes (Accessed 10 October 2024).

Perkins, O. (2024) Longlegs: The Art of the Unseen. Variety. Available at: https://variety.com/2024/film/reviews/longlegs-review-maika-monroe-nicolas-cage-1236023456/ (Accessed 10 October 2024).

Philippou, D. and Philippou, M. (2023) Talk to Me: From TikTok to Possession Panic. Empire Magazine, (July), pp.78-82.

Savage, R. (2021) From Host to Dashcam: Pandemic Horror Innovation. The Guardian. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/film/2021/oct/25/rob-savage-dashcam-interview (Accessed 10 October 2024).

Weekes, R. (2020) His House: Ghosts of Migration. BFI Player Notes. Available at: https://player.bfi.org.uk/remi-weekes-his-house (Accessed 10 October 2024).