Ten years later, ‘Lights Out’ remains terrifying, and terrifyingly prescient for this generation’s filmmakers.
Lights Out is terrifying. David F. Sandberg’s adaptation of his short film (which you can watch below) took the world by storm when it was released in theaters on July 22, 2016. This was slumber party, packed megaplex horror at its best – a communal experience that delighted in scaring the audience silly. It’s no wonder Lights Out’s release was delayed until summer, with executives reportedly confident that they had a hit on their hands. $149 million against a $5 million budget confirmed their suspicions. Ten years later, the frights hold up (and the ending remains egregious), but rather than revisiting the film on its merits alone, Lights Out fascinates more as an erstwhile path to Hollywood success. Before Curry Barker and Kane Parsons, horror shorts were still the way in.
There’s been a lot of hoo-ha about the next generation of horror. Barker and Parsons will no doubt spearhead that movement, the modern-day equivalent of Eli Roth or James Wan, whose influence defined the early aughts horror scene. On account of Backrooms and Obsession (and their monumental, historic success at the box office), studios are desperately culling from social media and YouTube to find their own horror wunderkind. Steven Spielberg has secured the rights to Alex Kister’s YouTube hit The Mandela Catalogue. Warner Bros. won the rights to Siren Head, which looks cool, but my age precludes me from knowing anything else about the viral hit.
Point being, the future of horror is housed online, and while I’m not inclined to think it’s a permanent shift in the nature of IP acquisition (nothing ever is), it at the very least looks poised to frame the next several years of horror, for better or worse ( On the surface, it’s not all different from Sandberg’s pivot to Hollywood Horror Darling. His short, , was an online success in 2013, racking up over a million views after it was released on both YouTube and Vimeo, subsequently igniting a fierce bidding war and, ultimately, the feature adaptation in 2016.
Sandberg would go on to helm Annabelle: Creation, both Shazam films, and last year’s Until Dawn. Sort of like how Barker is attached to the next Texas Chain Saw Massacre movie. You know the drill—strike gold with an original conceit, move into the IP realm. There are a lot of parallels, sure, but Sandberg’s quest is still distinctly old-school compared to the current crop of burgeoning horror talent.
Sandberg, in the shorts era, was working with nothing. His wife, Lotta Losten, regularly starred, and for a decade prior, Sandberg had been working in both short-form documentary filmmaking and animation. Barker also achieved fame with little, first hitting the scene with both The Chair and Milk & Serial, cheapies released online, but his upward trajectory was accelerated, and most notably, his success allowed him to pitch an original project (Obsession) rather than a feature-length adaptation of a short.
Jacob Chase was tapped in 2019 for an adaptation of his short film, Larry, which would release as Come Play in 2020. Parker Finn’s short film Laura Hasn’t Slept would become Smile. Andy Muschietti’s short film Mama caught Guillermo del Toro’s eye in 2008, five years before the feature Mama was released. James Wan and Leigh Whannell famously shot Saw’s bathroom scene as a pitch to investors. Art the Clown had appeared in shorts since 2008 before Damien Leone’sTerrifier (with a budget of just $35,000) was released in 2016.
Age is a considerable factor. The new crop is young. Really young. There’s been much less time honing craft and grinding away. That may not be such a bad thing, of course. Love them or hate them personally, both Obsession and Backrooms were critical hits. But if we look at their forebears, we can see a precarious path forward. Lights Out was terrifying, and Annabelle: Creation is the strongest entry in the spinoff series, but Sandberg really hasn’t had an opportunity to flex his muscles in a decade.
James Wan is all over the place, delivering genre-defining scares alongside IP slop where cars careen between high-rises in Dubai. Parker Finn’s Smile 2 is one of the best of the century, but I’m really, really concerned about his upcoming remake of Possession. Andy Muschietti’s Mama, despite the conspicuous del Toro touch, remains a singular piece of horror filmmaking. Since then, it’s been a controversial superhero movie and Pennywise overload. Jacob Chase is helming the next Insidious film. Even Mike Flanagan, who won me over with Absentia and Oculus, hasn’t really done anything unique since Hush in 2016. Midnight Mass was close, but it’s still Stephen King-lite, Salem’s Lot without the name.
So, while the variables might have shifted some, the origins are static. For horror filmmaking, shorts are the way to go. Whether catching the attention of a Hollywood bigwig or going viral online, those bite-sized scares are as surefire a way as any to springboard into wide-release, theatrical opportunities. Yet, while there’s been a lot of talk about what lessons we can learn about the new wave, that unshackled creativity is what stands out to me as the most important.
I loved Lights Out (again, ending aside). It scared the hell out of me, and like James Wan’s Insidious, it’s one of the best, most riotous theatrical experiences I’ve ever had. The scene where Alexander DiPersia’s Bret escapes the monster’s clutches with his car’s headlights generated more applause than anything else I’ve seen in a theater. I want that David F. Sandberg back. I want the Curry Barker of Obsession to endure. I want the abstractions of Kane Parsons to remain intact, whatever his next feature is.
Because there is a future a decade out where, like Lights Out, their careers go the route of Icarus. The monumental success, the infinite possibilities, and the IP IV that sustains them without really giving them another chance to soar. I know Sandberg has another hit in him. One day, we might finally get that long-gestating Lights Out sequel (seriously, that was a surefire thing that just never materialized) and Sandberg will have me terrified of the dark all over again. Until then, I just hope the new crop and the executives who wield the checkbook recognize that the retention of voice, not recognition, will be the key to long-lasting success.
