There aren’t many horror filmmakers who have had quite the career trajectory as Mike Flanagan. He got his start with the crowdfunded indie Absentia, proving he could scare and move audiences in one breath… and on a small budget. Over the years, he has dropped gems like Netflix’s The Haunting of Hill House, Midnight Mass, and, let’s not forget, The Fall of the House of Usher. His signature? The ability to combine bone-chilling scares with stories about believable characters grappling with loss, uncertainty, obsession, and grief.
With all this in mind, and more, ranking his work is no easy feat; you have to admit that Flanagan doesn’t really create anything unwatchable. The best way to sum everything up would be to call his movies and TV shows nuanced. Some hit harder on an emotional level, others are more flawed; nevertheless, they all deliver a mix of dread and relatability.
10. Before I Wake (Tomatometer Score: 67%)
What if going to sleep was the most dangerous thing a child could do in your house? That’s the uneasy premise that Before I Wake is built on. At the center of the dread are Mark (Thomas Jane) and Jessie (Kate Bosworth), a bereaved couple who adopt a young boy called Cody (Jacob Tremblay). Things really kick into action when they realize that Cody’s dreams sometimes (and more often than not) escape the confines of his mind. It’s chaotic because no one ever knows what to expect; there are butterflies, and other times, it’s dead relatives. However, the real conflict arises when he starts to manifest the darker makings of his mind.
The narrative here works because it hinges more on emotion than… well, noise. Tremblay plays Codywith a sort of fragile sweetness, and Bosworth taps into grief without making it a spectacle. All in all, it’s easy to tap into the movie’s general sentiment of battling loss as well as the temptation to hold on to things that are far gone.
9. King on Screen (Tomatometer Score: 67%)
Another work of art, King on Screen, seeks to make sense of the many… many adaptations of Stephen King’s work. It’s a sort of chronicle of the long, messy history of the legendary writer, drawing on different directors, clips, and behind-the-scenes stories from decades of films inspired by his work. The documentary touches on early hits like Carrie, made-for-TV movies, flops, and the adaptations that altered the way “the King” was seen onscreen.
Perhaps the most interesting part of the documentary is how it digs into creative clashes, especially around movies like The Shining. Listening to Flanagan talk about adapting Doctor Sleep with King’s feelings in mind completely shifts the whole Kubrick debate. Sure, it leans a little too far into reverent territory, but for anyone interested in how King’s stories have managed to stand the test of time, this is a great watch.
8. Oculus (Tomatometer Score: 75%)
In Oculus, siblings Kaylie and Tim Russell return to their childhood home, where an old nightmare lies in wait. The horror stems from an antique mirror that Kaylie blames for the death of their father. The rest of the world believes Tim did it, and that landed him in a psychiatric hospital for 11 years. To prove that they aren’t out of their minds, she sets cameras up around the house, determined to prove it’s haunted. What follows is nothing less than a clash of the past and future, and nothing is really what it seems, except the raw fear the pair experiences.
Oculus stands as a strong early example of Flanagan’s talent. His combination of tight psychological horror with supernatural mystery is only upstaged by the genuine performances from Karen Gillan and Brenton Thwaites. All in all, the film does its best to showcase his penchant for crafting horrifying narratives with emotionally charged twists and turns.
7. The Life of Chuck (Tomatometer Score: 80%)
The Life of Chuck kicks off at the end of the world. The streets are one step away from tumbleweed-ridden, society is on the brink of fraying, and somehow all fingers point to one seemingly unremarkable man… Chuck Krantz (Tom Hiddleston). Billboards thank him, radio hosts mention him, strangers talk about him like he matters to the collapse itself. Then the story starts to move backward in time, revealing aspects of Chuck’s life in bits and pieces until memories slowly start to connect.
This is not a typical horror; in fact, it’s more of a tale about appreciating the temporary nature of life as a whole. Nevertheless, it has Flanagan’s signature all over it, as he leans into the quiet sadness and corresponding joys of life against the crippling reality of time running out. Overall, it’s a staunch reminder that one life, even an unremarkable one, can still feel huge.
6. The Midnight Club (Tomatometer Score: 85%)
It’s not common for young people to live out their last days in hospice, but that’s where The Midnight Club lands viewers. The place is Brightcliffe Home, where Ilonka (Iman Benson) and a group of terminally ill teens sneak out every night to listen to each other’s scary stories to keep their wits around them. It’s during those midnight sessions that Ilonka gains an unhealthy obsession with the case of Julia Jayne, a former patient who allegedly left the hospital 100% cured. That’s when things take a sharp turn towards the occult, excavating Brightcliffe’s horrific past in the process.
When placed side-by-side with other Flanagan productions, this one is sort of experimental. His influence is apparent in the focus on grief, fear, and people trying to control the uncontrollable. But there is also a series of short stories injected in between, probably to briefly distract the audience from the fact that they’re watching a bunch of kids wait for death.
5. Midnight Mass (Tomatometer Score: 87%)
From the start, it’s clear that Crockett Island is an island on its knees. Then there’s Riley Flynn (Zack Gilford), whose homecoming after a four-year incarceration pushes the sleepy community over the edge. At the very least, he feels a sense of remorse, and he’s sober in every sense of the word, but he’s also quite intolerant of the island’s church culture. Things change almost instantly when Father Paul Hill (Hamish Linklater) arrives, taking the place of the ailing Monsignor Pruitt. What follows are strange healings, more targeted sermons, and larger divisions in a community that was barely holding it together. Even worse is the way faith is weaponised on one end and taken a bit too far on the other.
All in all, Midnight Mass hits the spot because Flanagan ties the horror directly to people and the human condition as a whole. The townspeople, including their spiritual patriarch, bumble through the concept of belief, making bad choices and reaping the consequences. It’s worth considering this one of Flanagan’s clearest statements: religion is only dangerous when people push it there.
4. Gerald’s Game (Tomatometer Score: 91%)
Imagine the worst romantic getaway of all time, then double the stakes in your head. That’s practically what Gerald’s Game serves up. The film zooms in on the story of Carla Gugino’s Jessie, who finds herself handcuffed to a bed after her husband Gerald (Bruce Greenwood) passes away unexpectedly, leaving her to battle with isolation, hallucinations, and a chilling, unseen threat. All in all, it’s a tale that digs into themes of trauma, abuse, and psychological horror.
Here, Mike Flanagan takes Gerald’s Game to the next level with a masterclass in suspense and character-driven horror. There aren’t many external factors at play here as the terror comes from Jessie’s internal turmoil, and Gugino doesn’t hold back, fully committing to every moment of her ordeal. In a nutshell, it proves that horror can disturb, challenge, and move viewers all at once.
3. The Fall of the House of Usher (Tomatometer Score: 91%)
Picture this. Roderick (Bruce Greenwood) and Madeline Usher (Mary McDonnell) built a pharmaceutical empire from nothing. While they seem secure in it, their wealth can’t save them from the clutches of death or the unpredictability of the supernatural. The Fall of the House of Usher chronicles their family secrets, the politics, as well as the dark omens that destabilize their wealth and sanity in one breath. The series itself is a reimagination of Edgar Allen Poe’s eponymous gothic horror, set in contemporary times where privilege offers no saving grace.
Flanagan’s signature blend of vivid visuals and emotionally charged situations, along with stellar performances from Kate Siegel (Camille L’Espanaye), T’Nia Miller (Victorine LaFourcade), Mark Hamill, and Willa Fitzgerald, breathes life into the Usher family. The show is a sweet mishmash, blending everything from horror to dark satire, and believe us when we say that it makes each downfall satisfying yet horrifying.
2. Hush (Tomatometer Score: 92%)
For some reason, Hush’s central character is hearing-impaired Maddie (Kate Siegel), who lives alone in the woods. At some point, she realizes that someone is trying to break into her secluded abode. It’s then she faces a mysterious intruder (John Gallagher, Jr.) who turns her usually mundane life into a fight… for her life. It’s layers upon layers of tension against a backdrop of silence.
The selling point here is the way Flanagan extracts every bit of dread from the silence. But the story also adds a bit of excitement because Maddie may be deaf, but she has tons of tricks up her sleeve. Even without big set pieces, Flanagan proves he can capture an audience in their own tension.
1. The Haunting of Hill House (Tomatometer Score: 93%)
Let’s just say that the Crain family’s short stay in the titular Hill House leaves scars that follow them into adulthood. Years later, the siblings are pulled back together as buried memories, ghosts, and unresolved grief resurface. Told across shifting timelines, the plot treats the house as both a haunted space and a trigger for everything the family refuses to face.
It’s safe to say this is peak Mike Flanagan, given how fear and emotion are fused and weaponized. On the one hand, there are the scares which are not sudden, but they are nothing if not precise, from the Bent-Neck Lady to the background ghosts you notice too late. Then on the other is a painfully human story that delves into grief, guilt, and trauma survival.
