Bloodless, Goreless Horror
Or, at least, things with very, very, very little.
Hello. My name is Cooper D. Barham, and I’m a published author, creative community leader, and fiction enthusiast who tends to dream big. I like to write things, read things, play things—the whole gamut. I’ve also been described as a “big ball of emotion” on more than one occasion. All of these things inform what I write about, how I write it, and my desire to create greater understanding between others, in the most gentle way I know how.
In all things, approach calmly, bravely, and without fail.
As a long-time horror fan (like, my mother started showing me horror films at far too young an age), I often run up against people who dismiss or denounce horror on principle, often citing things that are not inherent to the genre. They take umbrage with the tastelessness of the gore-porn, like you find in Saw or Final Destination, or the rampant, physiological cheap shots of jump-scares. And my answer is usually in the vein of:
“You’re right, I don’t like those, either.”
Which, in the best case, confuses them. Because in their mind, that IS horror, and while I can’t pretend like the broader horror genre doesn’t house those things in a number of places, they also are not essential elements of horror storytelling. In fact, I’d wager some of the best products of horror have none of those things.
So I want to share just a few of my favorite horror films that have little-to-zero blood and guts. For the purposes of this piece, I will keep myself to films, but it’s worth noting that a lot of the best horror of this nature can be found across the landscapes of books and television. Movies are more digestible, and as such, easier to suggest to the inquiring layman.
I. Relic (2020)
Much like The Babadook, this film’s central conceit is that a woman’s mental illness manifests in a supernatural way that influences and alters the world around her. It is highly metaphorical. There are no jump scares.
This film tricks you into thinking you know what it’s about early on, planting uncertainties and mysteries that are part of a greater whole. In the end, this is atmospheric, allegorical horror that draws its nightmare from a very lived experience that affects relatable characters, trapped in a painful circumstance.
Relic drip feeds you its terror in little ways, until it feels crushing. But the magic is that it falls back on none of the stereotypical horror conventions, instead choosing to make its horror entirely emotional and cinematic. There’s no slasher, no guts, no startles.
Just a bad situation that continues to get worse, until it resolves in a final, sideways burst of catharsis and understanding.
II. The Ring
I’m not sure if this is treasonous, but while I enjoyed the original Ringu, I personally find the state-side adaptation of The Ring to be the far more satisfying watch.
If you know anything about The Ring, it’s probably the iconic young girl with long black hair and the stained, tattered white dress. The Ring went a long way in cementing the creepy little girl trope, which can and will follow you into your darker imaginings.
However, in spite of this, The Ring almost doesn’t qualify as horror. It spends the vast majority of its run time as a suspense-mystery, as the main character races the clock to tease out the secrets of a mysterious death tied to a seemingly innocuous teenage prank.
What she finds behind the veil of that prank is the deeply upsetting nightmare of a small, isolated family, and the failure to do right by our children.
The Ring features a couple punctuated flashes of body horror, but not in the bloody mess sort of way. Its most gruesome scene actually involves a horse, which in a fit of frenzy, throws itself off the front of a ship. We know it passes through the propellers based on the washed-out red color in the dark waters afterward, but it’s pretty subdued on a visual level. You’re less likely to be upset by how it looks, and more upset that it was a horse, so if you’re sensitive to animal death, that’s worth keeping in mind.
III. It Follows
It Follows exists in a unique spot within the greater horror fandom, in that it is simultaneously clowned on for its hammy premise, while also acknowledged as highly-memorable and well-executed.
The horror of It Follows is simple, but potent. As an obvious metaphor for sexually transmitted disease, there is a curse that is passed along between individuals through sexual intercourse. Whoever has most recently received the curse will find themselves endlessly pursued by an undisclosed *something*, which can take the form of different people. It is always only ever walking toward you, until it catches you, at which point you die, and it begins towards its next target: the person who passed along the curse to you. On and on, forever.
It is not hard to outrun in the moment. But it’s impossible to escape entirely. Your only hope is that you have sex with someone else, who then has sex with another person, and that the chain becomes long enough that you never see It again. But, of course, you never know if it’s enough.
The best part of this film is the simplicity, but also, the support characters involved are actually smart about the existence of the figure, rather than languishing eternally in “no, you must be imagining things” nonsense.
You will briefly see a couple of lightly mutilated bodies during the run time of It Follows—victims of the curse—but it’s nothing worse than you’d see in a standard murder crime procedural.
IV. I’m Thinking of Ending Things
The horror of “I’m Thinking of Ending Things” is at first evasive. It may be possible to even reach the end and still not be completely certain why you are so upset. Its narrative is illusive, cerebral, and relational, and is the least “horror” thing on this list as a result.
Fans are divided on whether it’s horror at all, but I certainly think the classification applies. There are implications within this film that can leave you shaken in a way that can only be described as you having been horrified.
I’m Thinking of Ending Things trails alongside a young couple on a road trip to meet the boyfriend’s parents for the first time. The trouble is that our main character, the girlfriend in this relationship, wants to call the whole thing off and go separate ways.
What follows are really tense, trapped road trip conversations that start in one flavor and eventually evolve into something more disorienting. The magnetic weirdness steadily draws you in, brows furrowed, as you try to figure out what the true nature of the relationship is between this couple (it is none of your first five guesses).
The truth is unpredictably grim, but never gruesome. The worst imagery involves some already-dead farm animals, but there’s no on-screen violence whatsoever.
I’d go so far as to say this is one of the smartest films I’ve ever viewed, and is based on a book of the same title.
V. Talk to Me
My favorite horror film of 2023 was without a doubt Talk to Me, which takes a brutally realistic approach to modern teenage culture, the taboo fascination with recreational drugs, and the worst parts of social media, all bottled up into a chest punch of dread that lingers (in my experience) for weeks after the film ends.
In the interest of transparency, this film is not bloodless. Among this list, it’s by far the most graphic. No gore, but definitely not gentle. There are three brief, but visceral scenes of graphic self-harm that are not for the faint of heart. These scenes probably take up a total of one minute of screentime together, but that’s enough for them to stick in your memory if you’re sensitive to those things (or even if you’re not, honestly).
Other than that, Talk to Me’s horror is more about loss of identity, loss of autonomy, and the dangers of the invisible. Its core idea is that it treats ghost possession like a recreational drug, and if you overdose, then echoes of those ghosts linger in your mind.
It’s brilliant in its horror, immaculately captured through a handful of incredible performances. It is not without its graphic moments, and for that reason, if you choose to skip this one, I understand.
VI. Hereditary
Hereditary does not land for everyone. Specifically, some of the special effects and directorial choices in the latter quarter of the film, which are admittedly weird and jarring. That is intentional, and for some, it is strikingly horrific. For others, it’s funny. I understand both sides.
Hereditary follows a family as it disintegrates under the weight of grief, paranoia, and unpredictable, seemingly malevolent happenings. This film crawled through me the first time I watched it, and I am on the side of the fence who believes it to be a masterpiece. Its horror is apparent in the ghastly supernatural happenings and insidious cult behaviors, but like with I’m Thinking of Ending Things, I did not know the full breadth of what was happening until I looked a bit further beyond the film itself, at some of the names of things that were mentioned, only in passing.
Equipped with extracurricular occult knowledge, I was able to better understand its otherwise disorienting finale, and my appreciation for the nightmare it wove became complete.
The most gruesome thing you’ll see in this film is at the very end. Almost the entire run time is bloodless, until the last 5 minutes, at which point you need to brace yourself for a couple different, horrific displays of bodily harm. Besides that, there’s a lingering shot of a decapitated head on the side of the road. Horrific, but hardly gore, and practically no blood to be found.
I’m sure there’s plenty of other options for low-gore, low-blood horror. If you know any that I didn’t mention here, I’d be happy to read comments with your recommendations. Horror is one of my favorite genres, and the more knowledge I have of the genre’s offerings, the better I can fine-tune suggestions for others.
Thank you for being here with me.