Do you feel that? The witching hour approaches, the nights are drawing in, the leaves falling – and Halloween is looming. Which means switching up your seasonal viewing habits, leaving summer blockbuster season behind, and getting into the scare-zone. But what if the thought of a film leaving you in rictus terror leaves you in… well, rictus terror? Fear not – literally. Getting in the Halloween spirit doesn’t necessarily mean mainlining hardcore horror flicks – there are plenty of alternatives for the faint of heart, films that play in the spooky milieu without delivering outright frights.
So, if you’re goosebump-challenged, afraid of the dark, gag over gore, or simply want films that prioritise fun over fear-factor, look no further. Read Empire’s guide to the best spooky (but not scary) films to get you in the mood, packed with pumpkins and ghouls and creatures of the night, with none of the nasty stuff. Bring your own seasonal gourds.
Beetlejuice (1988)
Tim Burton’s entire career has been predicated on his ability to conjure pure spooky vibes on the big screen, but rarely has it been done with such comic glee as Beetlejuice. This one has death, demons, ghosts, possession, and a ghoul-packed afterlife – but it all plays out like a Halloween party. Geena Davis and Alec Baldwin are the Maitlands, a recently-deceased couple who manifest as ghosts in their beloved Connecticut home. But when the arty Deetz family – including Winona Ryder as goth daughter Lydia – move into their abode and threaten to remodel the entire house, the Maitlands fight back with the help of Michael Keaton’s shape-shifting agent of chaos Beetlejuice (Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice!). The result is a riot of endearingly lo-fi effects, stop-motion sandworm chases, Harry Belafonte dance-alongs, with nary a scare in sight. In future, double-bill it with the equally spooky-not-scary Beetlejuice Beetlejuice.
Hocus Pocus (1993)
For a film that features child murder, traumatic transmogrification, and three hangings inside its opening 12 minutes, it’s remarkable just how nimbly Kenny Ortega’s 1993 perennial Halloween fave Hocus Pocus balances its dark, child-soul-snatching storyline with its campy, fun-for-all-the-family brio. There’s clearly just something about getting to watch Bette Midler, Sarah Jessica Parker, and Kathy Najimy run amok (amok, amok, amok, amok, amok!) as the Sanderson Sisters – a trio of 17th century witches unwittingly resurrected in ‘90s Salem by teen Max (Omri Katz) – that never gets old, vacuum brooms, ‘I Put A Spell On You’ musical interlude and all. The less said about the 2022 straight-to-Disney+ sequel the better, but the original – with its gonzo sense of humour and immaculate autumnal atmosphere – remains a bona fide banger.
Addams Family Values (1993)
Creepy, kooky, mysterious, and spooky, Barry Sonnenfeld’s follow-up to The Addams Family is that rarest of beasts – a sequel that’s even better than the original. All your ooky chez Addams faves – Raul Julia and Anjelica Huston’s sado-romantic Gomez and Morticia, Christopher Lloyd’s bungling Uncle Fester, Christina Ricci’s devilishly deadpan Wednesday – are back, bringing the Gothic and the camp once again as they welcome (or, more accurately, try to decapitate) mustachioed baby arrival Pubert. The secret weapon this time out however is Joan Cusack, whose mercurial turn as gold digging, Fester-fixated black widow Debbie Jellinsky is not only absolutely iconic (honestly, more villains should give slideshow presentations justifying their parents’ murder), but also serves as a sage reminder that whilst their manner may be unorthodox, you can’t fault the, ahem, Addams family values.
What We Do In The Shadows (2014)
Before Taika Waititi hit the big time with Thor: Ragnarok, he teamed up with fellow Kiwi funnyman Jemaine Clement (of Flight Of The Conchords) to make this delightful low-key vampire mockumentary. Following the (after)lives of five vampires — dandy Viago (Waititi), Byronic bloodsucker Deacon (Jonathan Brugh), “bit of a pervert” Vlad (Clement), and yer-man-Nosferatu-trapped-in-a-closet Petyr (Ben Fransham) — as they muddle through in modern day Wellington, What We Do In The Shadows is basically Spinal Tap with fangs. But what makes the movie so brilliant, beyond its endless quotability, is the way Clement and Waititi so effortlessly flit between juvenile undead daftness (“Basghetti”, we’re looking at you) and genuinely shocking bursts of claret-soaked, early Peter Jackson evocative vampirical viscera throughout. In short, it’s bloody good fun in every possible sense.
Wallace & Gromit: Curse Of The Were-Rabbit (2005)
It took a staggering 2,844.9 kilograms of plasticine (and many, many baby-wipes) to craft Wallace and Gromit’s Oscar-winning feature debut, The Curse Of The Were-Rabbit – and not a single ounce of it went to waste. Almost certainly the only horror film set amid a marrow-measuring competition, Aardman’s stop-motion caper — whose laundry list of genre touchstones includes everything from King Kong, to Frankenstein, to An American Werewolf In London — lovingly homages creature features of yore whilst cleverly taking the format and moulding it (quite literally) into a big old lol-athon. Come for the God-tier puns (“24 carrot” gold bullet and “large rabbit dropping” are chef’s kiss) and Ralph Fiennes’ brilliantly-named antagonist Victor Quartermaine; stay for a claymated masterclass from Britain’s finest. Cracking film, Gromit!
The Adventures Of Ichabod And Mr. Toad (1949)
Released during the war-affected ‘Package Films’ era of Disney, it’s often forgotten that – once upon a time – the Mouse House tackled the tale of Sleepy Hollow. Don’t worry; there’s no marauding Christopher Walken here. But there is a bouncy evocation of rural American ‘fall’ season, pumpkins galore, jolly Bing Crosby musical numbers, and an entertainingly elastic incarnation of womanising intellectual Ichabod Crane, all contained in a largely faithful telling of Washington Irving’s tale. When the Headless Horseman stuff does kick in, there’s some thrillingly gnarly imagery – but the finale blends that suspense with slapstick, so it’s unlikely to evoke nightmares. At roughly 35 minutes, the ‘Ichabod’ part of Adventures is a quick watch – and the Wind In The Willows section of this two-part feature (the ‘Mr. Toad’ chunk) is another autumnal treat.
Ghostbusters (1984)
It’s always been the way that people feel so fondly towards Ghostbusters, they forget its scarier moments – the library ghost, for one. But largely this remains in the fun-zone, as New York-based parapsychologists Venkman (Bill Murray), Ray (Dan Aykroyd), Egon (Harold Ramis), and Winston (Ernie Hudson) face down exploding eggs, ectoplasm-spewing entities, demon dogs, the ghoulish Gozer – and, most memorably, the marauding Stay-Puft marshmallow man. It may have originated as a major summer hit, but Ghostbusters remains a Halloween favourite for the fright-challenged. Plus, it pairs nicely with sweet adventure-fuelled legacy sequel Ghostbusters: Afterlife, directed by Ivan Reitman’s filmmaker son Jason Reitman.
Scooby-Doo (2002)
When looking for cinematic spookiness, there are few destinations more apt to set sail for than Spooky Island. Critics largely didn’t love Scooby-Doo at the time, but this James Gunn-penned take on the Mystery Machine gang has emerged as a Gen-Z touchstone. That’s not just down to its spot-on casting – Matthew Lillard’s Shaggy and Sarah Michelle Gellar’s Daphne in particular – but its deeply early-‘00s haunted-tiki-room aesthetic. Half tropical hangout, half voodoo vibes, it’s a fun backdrop for a tale that takes in possession, soul-swapping, demonic rituals – and, scariest of all, a gigantic Scrappy-Doo. It’s far from high art, but it gets plenty of mileage from its PG-rated not-exactly-scares. Just like its tagline said: “Be afraid. Be kind of afraid.” The result is the movie equivalent of a skull-shaped disco ball.
The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993)
An animated danse macabre fashioned from the mind of Tim Burton, the music of Danny Elfman, and the stop-motion mastery of director Henry Selick, that The Nightmare Before Christmas has been thrilling — and chilling — moviegoers young and old for over three decades now is unsurprising. There’s an ineffable, timeless quality to Burton’s deliciously Gothic tale, based on a poem the filmmaker wrote whilst working at Disney in the ‘80s, which follows disillusioned Pumpkin King Jack Skellington (Chris Sarandon) as he discovers his own unique brand of festive spirit in Christmas Town. Whilst some of the more morbid elements of Selick’s movie (burlap big-bad Oogie Boogie, the skeleton-saddled Hanging Tree, the Harlequin Demon) may challenge its PG certification, Elfman’s intoxicating musical numbers and Skellington’s poignantly observed outsider narrative keep the heartwarming
The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975)
The clue’s in the title. The Rocky Horror Picture show wears its influences on its sleeve – or, at least, in its opening credits. As its creator Richard O’Brien sings the sublime‘Science Fiction/Double Feature’, he name-checks a host of sensationalist mid-20th Century B-movies, among them The Day Of The Triffids, The Invisible Man and The Day of The Triffids. He bows before them. And while his own film doesn’t set out to frighten, it has a fantastic time in the scary sandbox. O’Brien’s leering manservant Riff Raff is a gloriously gothic, sunken-eyed hunchback. The magnificent ‘castle’ that our two all-American lovebirds Brad and Janet (Barry Bostwick and Susan Sarandon) find themselves in is, in reality, Berkshire’s Oakley Court, oft utilised by Hammer productions. Rocky himself, a gleaming golden God, is shocked into life by mad scientist Dr Frank-N-Furter who – lest we forget – is a sweet transvestite from a planet called Transsexual in the galaxy of, erm, Transylvania. Not terrifying, but all frightfully fabulous.
Young Frankenstein (1974)
It is a truth universally acknowledged that Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein (or perhaps that should be ‘Young Fronkensteen’) is one of the all-time great comedies. From Gene Wilder’s perfectly pitched turn as the put-upon Dr. Frederick Frankenstein, to the impeccably timed thunder cracks and whinnying horses, to that show-stopping ‘Puttin’ On The Ritz’ performance by Frankenstein and Peter Boyle’s Monster, here’s a movie that passes the six-laugh test within minutes and feels like a full-on ab workout by the time it’s over. But it’s the finer details — the iris transitions, the use of Ken Strickfaden’s 1931 Frankenstein sets — that really highlight Brooks’ genius. Parody at its best is rooted in a sincere affection for the source material, and Young Frankenstein is nothing if not a gushing monochromatic love letter to monster movies.
Death Becomes Her (1992)
Hell truly hath no fury than a woman scorned, beheaded, or with a hole blasted through her midriff. For adult audiences, Robert Zemeckis’ Death Becomes Her is an iconic, camp, Sunset Boulevard-on-steroids comedy where any semblance of fear is rooted in the timeless, terrible treatment of women over a certain age (thankfully co-stars Meryl Streep and Goldie Hawn have maintained robust careers well into their seventies). For viewers yet to be concerned by the notion of wrinkles, that lady with her head twisted backwards might haunt a meaty portion of your childhood. The premise is simple: Streep’s fading Hollywood actor Madeline steals away the fiancé (Bruce Willis) of frenemy Helen (Hawn), thus sparking a decades-spanning rivalry involving an anti-aging potion and much bodily harm. It’s violent and visceral, yes – but it’s lashings of fun.
We Have A Ghost (2023)
For most of his career, Christopher Landon – director of Freaky, and longtime Paranormal Activity penner – has plumped for full-blown horror. But if you’re not quite ready for his (largely blood-free) Happy Death Day slashers, his most recent film is a sweet, spectral coming-of-age movie, in which kid Kevin (Jahi Winston) discovers a David Harbour-shaped ghost in his attic – and promptly gains viral fame when he catches him on camera. Despite the haunted house milieu, the resulting story is an endearing, Amblin-flavoured comedy-adventure, as Kevin and his neighbour Joy (Isabella Russo) attempt to discover what’s keeping ‘Ernest’ (as the non-verbal ghost’s bowling shirt identifies him) earthbound, and attempt to free him into the next life. Most enjoyable? Jennifer Coolidge as bouffant-wigged medium ‘Judy Romano’. A film to file under: ‘I ain’t afraid of no ghost.’
Practical Magic (1998)
It’s a time-old tradition that the second the first leaf of Autumn falls, then – and only then – can you press play on Griffin Dunne’s golden-hued seasonal spooker. Sandra Bullock and Nicole Kidman star as modern sister witches Sally and Gillian respectively, whose bond is tested when Gillian’s piece-of-work boyfriend Jimmy (Goran Visnjic) makes them murder him, leading to all manner of creepy afterlife happenings. A time capsule for the late ‘90s, from the fashion to the soundtrack (Faith Hill! Bran Van 3000!), this small-town covenly tale clearly still holds up: both Kidman and Bullock recently confirmed that they have signed on for a sequel. Time to whip up another batch of midnight margaritas.
ParaNorman (2012)
The perfect gateway horror for budding genre enthusiasts, Chris Butler and Sam Fell’s 2012 zom-com is a Romero-homaging, B-movie inspired blast. The inherently necromantic art of stop-motion animation is perfectly suited to the story of Norman Babcock (Kodi Smit-McPhee), an 11-year-old outsider whose ability to speak to the dead comes in handy when a centuries-old curse brings zombies (and a witch with a 300-year-old axe to grind) to the town of Blithe Hollow. Visually stunning, wickedly funny, and stuffed to the gills with inspired horror references (there’s not one but two superb, no-notes Halloween nods), it’s impressive really just how much life Butler and Fell bring to their undead tale. Less scary for its brain-munching masses than its stark depiction of the power of mob mentality, ParaNorman remains one of Laika’s best.