Emergence of New Horror Narratives
In May 2026, two horror films directed by filmmakers who gained prominence online premiered simultaneously in theatres. “Obsession,” directed by Curry Barker, transformed a man’s yearning for reciprocation into a tale of obsession, control, and consent. Just weeks later, Kane Parsons’ “Backrooms” brought to life a universe filled with yellow corridors, empty offices, and seemingly endless rooms. Both films emerged as box office successes, grossing over $470 million and $390 million worldwide, respectively.
The similarities between the two films extend beyond their directors. In “Obsession,” danger and fear stem from something as relatable as the desire for mutual affection, while “Backrooms” evokes terror from ordinary spaces. Each film distorts familiar elements until an intimate relationship or a seemingly safe environment becomes unsettling.
It might seem that the horror genre has shifted its focus away from traditional monsters, demons, and vampires, opting instead for themes of trauma, control, isolation, screens, and technology. However, the history of the genre tells a different story. “I don’t believe there’s a new pattern emerging; rather, it’s a shift in perspective,” says Valeria Villegas Lindvall, a PhD in film studies with expertise in feminist and decolonial thought. According to her, the key difference lies in who is telling these stories, as younger filmmakers and previously underrepresented voices in the genre have found more opportunities in recent years.
Trends in Horror Cinema
Edna Campos has witnessed many of these changes over her 25 years as director and co-founder of Macabro, the International Horror Film Festival in Mexico City. Throughout her career, she has seen various trends rise and fall, from torture porn and the surge of Japanese horror to the revival of folk horror. “I believe the fears remain the same. What changes is the context, which alters how those stories are told,” Campos asserts. She points out that fears surrounding death, pain, loss, aging, darkness, and mistrust toward others recur, yet each era finds unique scenarios to express them.
The sense of safety associated with the familiar can also be disrupted. Villegas Lindvall highlights that the concept of “the enemy among us” has permeated much of horror history, with homes serving as threatening spaces since the early days of cinema. “It’s not that these patterns are new or that domestic settings are a recent development; rather, it’s the subversion of these spaces when there exists a way to counteract unequal power dynamics,” she explains.
Complexities of Fear in Relationships
“Obsession” exemplifies this transformation. The protagonist, Bear, desires his friend Nikki to fall in love with him and resorts to a supernatural object to achieve this. Although the narrative involves a fantastical element, the underlying conflict is readily identifiable: what happens when a desire for another person morphs into a means of control, stripping away their ability to choose?
Villegas Lindvall notes that some viewers may view Bear as an unfortunate man because his affections are unreturned. However, the film shifts focus onto Nikki, prompting questions about her experience as she becomes ensnared in this relationship. For the researcher, this represents a change in perspective within contemporary horror, as it does not necessarily invent fear but invites us to view it from a different angle.
Campos has observed similar themes in films showcased at Macabro. She has seen narratives about cohabiting individuals who begin to alienate one another, domestic violence, characters stalked through social media, and conflicts that transform ostensibly safe spaces. The threat feels credible precisely because it no longer seems distant.
The Neuroscience of Everyday Terror
The familiarity of the everyday turning into something terrifying has a scientific basis. Francisco Sotres Bayón, a researcher at the Cellular Physiology Institute of the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM), studies the neural circuits related to threat learning, memory, and behaviour selection, primarily using animal models. He explains that a signal is not interpreted in isolation but rather in relation to context and prior learning.
A familiar place, person, or sound carries specific expectations. When something disrupts those expectations, the same signal can start to mean something entirely different. “Stimuli are not evaluated in isolation but in relation to what we expected to occur. Sometimes, the unsettling experience comes not from encountering the unknown but from the known behaving unexpectedly,” Sotres Bayón explains.
Discomfort in the Known
This discomfort is palpable in “Backrooms.” Its settings are uncanny precisely because they are not entirely unfamiliar; they evoke empty offices, corridors, or rooms we may have traversed. We believe we understand how such a place should function, yet the film shatters that expectation.
This does not imply that traditional monsters have lost their ability to terrify us. Sotres Bayón notes that we can recognise a creature is fictional, yet certain characteristics of a situation can activate our defence systems. A monster or ghost can still instil fear because it embodies easily recognisable threats: a pursuing danger, a place of entrapment, or something beyond our control.
Technology as a Source of Fear
Technology represents another domain where horror has explored familiar fears. Screens, computers, and devices have long been depicted as sources of unease. Recently, these narratives have intensified with the rise of artificial intelligence and the growing presence of digital platforms in daily life.
M3GAN (2022), directed by Gerard Johnstone, explores the grief of a young girl who has lost her parents, intersecting this with technology designed to support and protect her. The film does not invent fear surrounding grief or losing control over something we create; instead, it translates these anxieties into a contemporary concern: what happens when technology begins to hold a more significant role in our relationships?
The Evolution of Horror Storytelling
Similarly, “Cam” (2018), directed by Daniel Goldhaber, follows Alice, a camgirl who discovers that a woman identical to her has taken over her account and continues to perform for her audience. Suddenly, her image exists and interacts with others without her control over the situation. Villegas Lindvall notes that “Cam” exemplifies how horror can adapt internet dynamics, blending themes of sex work, digital identity, and the fear of losing control over one’s image.
Moreover, technology can alter the way a film conveys fear. “Host” (2020) reimagined a familiar story (a supernatural summoning gone awry) within a Zoom call, coinciding with the platform’s increased role in daily life during the Covid pandemic. Campos believes such resources illustrate how technology can reshape narratives without necessitating the invention of an entirely new story.
New Directions in Mexican Horror
In Mexico, “No me sigas” (2025), directed by Ximena García Lecuona and Eduardo Lecuona, tells the story of Carla, a young woman seeking to gain followers who begins to simulate paranormal phenomena during her videos. Everything changes when her fabrications manifest in reality. This film represents Blumhouse’s first original Spanish production, the studio behind successful franchises like “Insidious,” “The Purge,” and “Paranormal Activity.”
The camera in “No me sigas” serves not only to document events but is also linked to the quest for attention and the need to convert experiences into content. The film combines found footage elements with images captured from computers and phones. The fear of the supernatural persists, but now it unfolds within a dynamic that encompasses followers, virality, and a quintessential internet question: what is real, and what is staged for attention?
Perceptions of Reality in Horror
Sotres Bayón points out that these formats also carry pre-existing associations. We are accustomed to linking security cameras, phones, or home videos with recordings of actual events. Consequently, when a film employs this language, it can make the threat feel more immediate. “That doesn’t mean we stop distinguishing between fiction and reality. Instead, these signals form part of the information we use to interpret what we see. We don’t just respond to what appears in an image but to the context that helps us determine its meaning,” he explains.
In addition to providing new avenues for horror, the internet has created spaces where stories can emerge, evolve, and change before reaching the big screen. Filmmakers who grew up alongside the rise of various platforms possess, according to Villegas Lindvall, a unique relationship with video games, social media, and the vast array of visual references available online. While many are familiar with genre conventions, their approach to crafting imagery is also influenced by perspectives beyond traditional film. “Backrooms” stands as a clear example of this phenomenon.
The Digital Roots of Modern Horror
The Backrooms universe originated online in 2019 as a creepypasta, further developed by various communities before Parsons released his interpretation on YouTube. The Backrooms represent an endless labyrinth of empty rooms and corridors, typically illuminated by fluorescent lights, which one might accidentally enter through a portal.
In 2022, Parsons recreated this world as a supposed found footage recording of someone trapped within it. “The Backrooms (Found Footage)” has since amassed over 92 million views, paving the way for the film ultimately produced by A24. Villegas