The 14 Best Horror Movies About Grief

Grief is a common thread in many horror films. It often plays a minor role in the film, or as you'll see from our list, grief lies at the heart of a film's emotional core. It drives the story forward and grounds the character(s) in realism when spooky things start to happen. In dealing with the supernatural, the occult, a masked killer, or any manner of other genre foes, the protagonists learn how to finally process their grief and slay their demons. The external forces are sometimes the least of their worries.

For the sake of our list, we take a look at grief as a direct response to death. Grief, as we know, can result from any sort of loss, from the death of a pet to a lost friendship. Below, we picked through decades of films to compile the 14 best titles depicting grief, each possessing a mood and approach all their own. It's time to pull up a seat and grab a box of tissues. 

When their youngest child is killed by a speeding semi-truck, the Creed family is ripped apart in their grief. Gage (Miko Hughes) was a light in the world snuffed out too soon, and any attempts to recover from his death fail. "Sometimes dead is better," neighbor Jud Crandall (Fred Gwynne) tells Louis (Dale Midkiff) upon showing him a burial site behind their newly-purchased home.

After the family cat was buried in the pet cemetery, only to return as a deranged version of itself, Louis decides to bury his son in the same ritual site. It naturally doesn't bring about the result he hoped for, and Gage goes on a murderous rampage, slaying Jud and his own mother Rachel (Denise Crosby). The part of Gage that made him so special has wilted and given way to a ravaging and mindless killing machine.

In many ways, resurrected Gage is a manifestation of grief and the heaviness of loss in our lives. Death is an inevitable part of life; we all must go through pain. While the suffering someone endures can feel overwhelming, keeping a loved one alive in photos, videos, and in spirit may be far better than raising them from the dead. This raises the biggest question of the story, though: Would you have done what Louis did if the grief became too much?

Elderly couple Audrey (Sheila McCarthy) and Henry (Julian Richings) want desperately to resurrect their dead grandson Jackson (Daxton William Lund). Their grief hangs like black smoke in the air, and they turn to Satanism for answers. In their spiritual exploration, they uncover an ancient spell that'll invoke a reverse exorcism. All they need to do is capture a pregnant person so they can perform the ritual, allowing them to transfer Jackson's essence into the fetus.

Throughout the film (directed by Justin G. Dyck), it's their anguish that is most heartbreaking. Their intentions are pure, but their actions raise significant moral questions about life, death, and how grief can blind you to reality. After holding one of Henry's patient's hostage, they tie her to a bed as part of their preparations. Almost immediately, Jackson's presence is made known to all involved and begs the question about the very thin veil separating worlds.

When it comes time to recite the spell, Audrey and Henry unintentionally open a fiery portal to purgatory and a host of other entities emerge from the darkness. It's a symbolic gesture about the futility of controlling grief and the frequency at which it can often dictate our lives, even if we don't even realize it.

David Bruckner's "The Night House" is a soul-crusher of a film. When her husband Owen (Evan Jonigkeit) kills himself, Beth (Rebecca Hall) is left to pick up the pieces of her life. Everything is in shambles, and she also contends with revelations about his secret double life.

As she unravels the mystery, she learns some dark truths about his urges to strangle and kill women. Beth has been put through enough, so her grief is now intertwined with anger and confusion about who Owen really was. Her best friend Claire (Sarah Goldberg) frequently reminds her that none of it matters in the end; what's most important is his unwavering love for her. But Beth can't let sleeping dogs lie and continues to dig deeper into her husband's hidden skeletons.

What makes "The Night House" a vital horror film is also its dissection of mental health, depression, and suicidal ideation. As Beth admits to a group of friends, she's long suffered from dark thoughts. With Owen's death, she grapples with her own mental health in a way she never had before. Grief and depression often go hand-in-hand when dealing with the worst parts of living. With help from Claire, Beth wrangles both in the end. They may never be totally vanquished, but she has at least taken over the reins.

If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline​ by dialing 988 or by calling 1-800-273-TALK (8255)​.

Dani experiences a 1-2-3 sucker punch with the murder-suicide of her sister and parents. Leave it to writer-director Ari Aster to bowl you over in the first 20 minutes, setting up the emotional stakes to make the rest of the film carry greater weight. Mostly containing disturbingly bright cinematography, "Midsommar" looks at grief as a pressurized slow-cooker ensnaring your entire existence. You dream about death, and your every waking moment feels as though the walls are closing in.

To make matters worse, her boyfriend Christian (Jack Reynor) is a textbook sleazeball. He's emotionally manipulative and gaslights her about concerns over her sister's mental illness and their broken relationship. With family tragedy, Christian can't possibly end things anytime soon. Dani's grief becomes the last thread in their relationship, and it's barely hanging on.

Over summer break, Christian, Mark, and his other friends plan a trip to a commune in Sweden, where their friend Pelle (Vilhelm Blomgren) is originally from. Begrudgingly, they invite Dani along. She could use an adventure anyway. When they arrive, things are immediately off about the place, yet there's something weirdly comforting about chosen family and the catharsis in experiencing and exorcizing someone else's pain and grief. While her friends are bumped off one by one, Dani is crowned the May queen and accepted by the community. They say fire is cleansing, and the film's fiery end certainly bestows Dani with a fresh start, renewed spirit, and the strength to forge ahead with her life.

If you or anyone you know is having suicidal thoughts, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline​ by dialing 988 or by calling 1-800-273-TALK (8255)​.

Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie star in Nicolas Roeg's "Don't Look Now," another film depicting the unimaginable loss of a child. When outside playing along a countryside estate, a young girl named Christine (Sharon Williams) falls into a nearby pond and drowns. Her parents John Baxter (Sutherland) and Laura (Christie) are obviously grief-stricken. Despite his emotional state, John takes a position restoring an old church in Venice. John hopes the work can squelch the pain coursing through his chest.

However, John experiences visions of his daughter in her bright red raincoat. He sees his supposed daughter around every corner. He can't seem to escape her, much like his grief that follows him wherever he goes. No manner of distraction can wash away the misery. Meanwhile, Laura has turned to two sisters and self-proclaimed psychics who attempt to help Laura reach out to the other side for contact with Christine.

"Don't Look Now" suggests that people will seek out different avenues to cope and process their grief. John pours himself into his work, and Laura explores clairvoyance. While these things may not solve the deeper emotional issues, they are valid responses in their own right.

Peter Medak's "The Changeling" supplies an emotional throughline to your typical haunted house story. George C. Scott plays John Russell, a composer living in New York City. After the deaths of his wife and daughter, he decides to leave the city behind and move out west to Seattle. He moves into a rustic mansion with a dark, twisted history.

Immediately, strange things begin to happen, from loud banging to the appearance of a red ball. It's initially unclear whether these occurrences are real or simply manifestations of his grief. When consulting Claire Norman (Trish Van Devere) from the local historic society, it's revealed that the house has been vacant for over a decade. Together, they unravel the mysteries of the house and discover a series of grisly deaths in and around the property. Their research suggests that the peculiar goings-on are very real.

"The Changeling" works on two levels. First, it excels as a spooky haunted house tale, brimming with thrills and chills that'll give you nightmares. Second, it works as a rich excavation of one man's grief, his failure to properly deal with it, and the idea that grief never really leaves you alone. It's always there, and you'll never be totally rid of it.

Anne (Barbara Crapton) suffers a deep depression following the death of her son Bobby. Along with her husband Paul (Andrew Sensenig), she moves to New England for a fresh start. Upon arrival, Anne claims she can feel her son's presence in the house, and you wonder if she is actually experiencing something supernatural or if it's simply a trick of her grief.

In search of answers, Anne invites her spiritualist friends May (Lisa Marie) and Jacob (Larry Fessenden) to further investigate the residence. One afternoon, while Anne and May head to the grocery store, Jacob suggests to Paul that they hold a seance to contact the spirits inhabiting the home. What they uncover, however, is something far more devilish than even Jacob could have anticipated.

The original tenants, the Dagmar Family, were burned and sacrificed to the evil beneath the house when it was exposed that they were selling corpses and burying empty caskets. Their souls were never put to rest, so their charred forms return to Earth to take what is rightfully theirs. Writer-director Ted Geoghegan delivers all the frights you so desire but gives the film a raw emotional tone that grounds it in reality. "We Are Still Here" depicts how grief can often swallow you whole if you're not too careful.