Top horror director calls scariest movie scene of all time

Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillette (Abigail)

The beginning of the burglary stranger (2008)

I don’t think anyone breathed during the entire scene. We all gasped when he appeared behind her and screamed when she opened the blinds and saw him up close on the other side of the window. It’s a beautifully choreographed scene, from the use of long handheld lenses to the haunting Joanna Newsome song and Liv Tyler’s pitch-perfect performance. From this scene on, all chit-chat and chatter disappears and the movie grabs the audience by the throat.

Ray Warner (werewolf)

blood test in thing (1982)

John Carpenter’s blood test scene thing Scary high water mark for me. McCready, played by Kurt Russell, is using a flamethrower to heat a wire and then stab it into a blood sample taken from each member of the science team. We know the blood will react to reveal which of them has been overrun by aliens, and the suspense is overwhelming. As a filmmaker, I always try to come up with scenes that create suspense, but do it in a novel way. This scene does just that. It was horrible, but it was such a unique scene. Simply testing everyone’s blood becomes the engine of suspense, it’s easy enough – but when the scene explodes, it gets me hooked every time. In my opinion, this is still the highlight in a movie that is perfect in every way. When I first saw it, I could barely look at the screen…but even now, after I’ve seen this movie dozens if not hundreds of times, it still works.

The appearance of twins The Shining (1980)

Everyone warns you that the first time you inject a hard drug into your vein, the rush will be so strong that you may spend the rest of your life trying to find that feeling again. For me, that impulse didn’t come from a needle, but from a videotape I rented at a friend’s house. A child rides a tricycle through the lobby of an empty hotel and turns the corner to find two twin girls waiting. An electric shock ran through my body. Time seemed to stop out of sheer terror. I’ve been looking for that thrill ever since.

Whistle and I’ll come to you Sheet Scene(1968)

One of the most successful horror sequences in cinema is the climax of the BBC’s adaptation of Mr James’ story Oh, whistle and I’ll come to you, my boy. It was the first Mr. James ghost story to be adapted for television during this period, and spawned the series Christmas ghost stories Since 1972. witch Recommended by my friend and composer Robin Carolan. 40 minutes of slow-burning atmosphere and low-key terror, all leading to the best expressions of shrouded ghosts and sleep paralysis in cinema. I watch it about once a year.

Parker Finn (Smile)

Empty apartment located in Cairo (“Pulse”) (2001)

Kiyoshi Kurosawa is a master of atmosphere and tension; cairo (aka pulse) is a terrible case study in both respects. Scenes in which the character Yabe investigates an empty, foreboding apartment unfold in utter eerie silence, as he descends into a dark, hollow space. When he reaches a dead end covered in strange red markers, we hold our breath, desperate for him to turn around and leave. But then an unsettling chorus cue breaks the silence, and suddenly we wish he didn’t turn around and face the horror standing on the other side of the room. Our eyes could just barely make out the ghost of a woman, standing motionless in the darkness. The ghost approaches Yabe, but her movements are false and nightmarish, as if she’s walking on the bottom of an ethereal ocean. Yabe stumbled backwards, hiding behind the only piece of furniture in the terrifying space: a small sofa. But Kurosawa isn’t done with us yet, as the ghost stares from the couch, staring down at Yabe as he (and us) scream in the terrifying darkness.

Scott Baker and Brian Woods (pagan)

Winky’s Dinner mulholland drive (2001)

The scene in broad daylight. The breakfast restaurant has a gorgeous design reminiscent of Seinfeld. Chat with colleagues at noon. These elements don’t quite add up to the suffocating atmosphere, but David Lynch completely masters the most terrifying tone: the “Winky’s Diner” scene mulholland drive.

Then add the conversation. It’s almost wooden at times, but when Patrick Fischler’s character recounts a dream, the end goal is achieved perfectly. We all have friends who tell us a dream. If you’re like us, you’ll quit immediately because there’s zero risk – everything you’re about to hear is fiction. There are no dangers in the real world.

So why does this scene work so well? Why is it that when Patrick Fischler begins recalling his horrific nightmare, every word becomes so ingrained in us? Is it a close-up of floating? Or does the subtle, nervous glance he throws at his friend at the checkout fulfill the prophecy of his dream? We are witnessing a kind of cinematic alchemy that we dare not overanalyze for fear that it will pierce the magic Lynch has cast on us.

Then Lynch does the inevitable: we go with the characters in the back of the diner to see if there’s any truth to the nightmare. The camera drifts past pay phones and into the empty dumps behind every restaurant you walk past in Los Angeles. A graffitied cinder block wall guards a dumpster in the afternoon sun. There was nothing unique here, but we felt our pulses quicken immeasurably. Our hearts beat from our chests until… the nightmare comes. This scene has become embedded in our neurological tissue, becoming the most horrific scene in a movie we’ve ever seen. Thank you, Mr. Lynch.

This story appears in the Oct. 23 issue of The Hollywood Reporter magazine. Click here to subscribe.