The horror genre enjoys unprecedented popularity, yet a defining trend of the last decade has been the rise of ‘elevated horror.’ While the genre constantly evolves, introducing fresh voices, ‘elevated horror’—films using supernatural elements as metaphors for psychological trauma—has become dominant. Initially a rarity, now it’s almost expected. These films aim for more than simple scares, striving for artistic merit and exploring the complexities of human emotion. However, even the self-aware meta-commentary of 2022’s *Scream* acknowledges the pervasiveness, and sometimes predictability, of this subgenre.
Lately, horror films exploring grief or survivor’s guilt can feel formulaic. But that wasn’t the case ten years ago when *The Babadook* redefined the genre. This low-budget Australian supernatural thriller, directed by Jennifer Kent, stands as one of the 21st century’s most acclaimed and influential horror films. Despite countless attempts to replicate its chilling power, no film has truly captured its magic.
*The Babadook* masterfully intertwines internal and external monsters. Essie Davis delivers a spellbinding performance as Amelia Vanek, a widowed single mother grappling with the death of her husband, Oskar (Ben Winspear), and the complex challenges of raising her troubled six-year-old son, Samuel (Noah Wiseman). Their attempts to rebuild their lives are shattered by the appearance of the Babadook, a sinister top-hat-wearing entity that seems to emanate from the shadows, preying on their fear and misery.
The Babadook systematically terrorizes Amelia and Samuel, using visions and nightmarish encounters to threaten their fragile bond. Amelia’s tormented by images of her deceased husband and horrifying visions of Samuel’s death, revealing the monster as a manifestation of her overwhelming grief. Yet, Kent’s brilliance lies in subtly conveying this metaphor without sacrificing the visceral impact of the horror.
Kent, showcasing the skill also displayed in her follow-up, *The Nightingale*, is a master of atmosphere and tension. Cinematographer Radek Ładczuk’s predominantly black, white, and gray color palette creates a world drained of color and life, mirroring Amelia and Samuel’s emotional state. The house, shrouded in pervasive shadows, instills a constant dread, enhancing the feeling that the Babadook is always lurking just beyond our sight. Wide-angle shots make the rooms feel unnaturally expansive, adding to the unsettling feeling of disorientation, mirroring the characters’ emotional turmoil.
Unlike many imitators, *The Babadook* embraces its horror roots unapologetically. A dark humor runs throughout, uniquely tied to the genre. Kent treats the Babadook as a genuine movie monster; the creature’s design and movements are playful, enhancing its effectiveness. This approach makes *The Babadook* not just a chilling exploration of grief, but also a thrilling modern twist on classic monster-in-the-closet narratives. It’s a film that wants to terrify, and it succeeds spectacularly. The sequence where the Babadook attacks Amelia from the ceiling is a testament to Kent’s skill and passion for the genre.
Many consider *The Babadook* the catalyst for the elevated horror boom of the mid-2010s and early 2020s. While numerous imitators have followed, *The Babadook* remains powerful. It’s a gripping, moving, darkly humorous film, cohesively exploring a battle with grief that resonates as profoundly today as it did in 2014. The film’s strength lies in its honest portrayal of grief, not as something to be overcome, but something to be managed. This nuanced perspective, combined with the unrelenting tension, elevates *The Babadook* beyond its imitators, solidifying its place as a true horror masterpiece. Currently streaming on Netflix, it’s a must-watch for any horror enthusiast.
