Matthew Percefull
Scary stories are one of the oldest forms of storytelling. When one thinks of a spooky story, a group of terrified people huddled around a campfire listening to a ghost story likely springs to mind. This tradition has only evolved as stories have moved from oral traditions to other media, especially cinema. The rise of alternative forms of entertainment like social media and short-form videos may seem like a threat to these more traditional storytelling methods, but in reality, the internet has only elevated how horror filmmakers can scare audiences.
The internet has its own culture of horror stories. Formats and platforms like Creepypasta or r/nosleep have established a new style of writing about these macabre tales that blend the unknowability of digital spaces with the tradition of folktales. In recent years, this type of storytelling has crept onto the big screen. With Kane Parson’s highly anticipated Backrooms adaptation releasing on May 29th (and potentially bringing internet horror mainstream attention), there’s no better time than now to look back at the most interesting uses of internet horror over the years.
Feardotcom (2002)
Feardotcom is one of the first horror films to prominently feature the internet. This schlocky flick tackles a specific online phenomenon that younger internet users may not even be aware of. If you spent any time on the pre-social media internet, you’ve run across your fair share of chain emails. These emails or instant messages, often copied and pasted, were meant to be shared among groups and often urged recipients to forward them to as many people as possible. The most memorable of these viral emails were often horror-focused—telling the stories of dead children and demons as a way to scare people into interacting. This may seem silly in our current web-fluent world, but as a child who was way too young to be surfing the internet by myself, I know how much horror that can really be mined from this concept. Unfortunately, this film fumbles its premise, but it is still intriguing and watchable as a time capsule of a simpler, more unpredictable version of the internet.
Feardotcom is not a good film by any means. It’s poorly acted, underwritten, and over-edited (as many 2000s horror films were), and it left much to be desired in its scares, but it captures an era-specific wariness of the internet that can’t be ignored. In 2002, the internet wasn’t a consistent part of our lives in the way it is now. It wasn’t a digital extension of the world; it felt like a completely separate place. The internet was very exciting in its infancy, as the new opportunities it opened were infectious and novel, but people would be lying to themselves if they denied the sliver of dread that came with it. There’s something cosmic about the internet; an ethereal feeling you get that isn’t present while interacting with other technologies. With AI’s dominance, consumerism overtaking every platform, and our societal reliance on these websites, perhaps our fears were founded on reality after all.
Unfriended (2015)
Screen-life is a style of found-footage horror focusing strictly on internet behavior. Filmed to resemble applications and tools such as video calls, social media sites, and cell phone footage, “screen-life” has become a subgenre of its own, and Unfriended is to thank for it. This style has been attempted everywhere to the point that Amazon’s ill-fated War of the Worlds remake implemented it. Nowadays, we know what to expect from this burgeoning subgenre; in 2015, Unfriended introduced it as a completely new way of filmmaking, and it was met with skepticism.
Unfriended was written off as a desperate gimmick at first, but over a decade later, it’s almost impossible to deny its influence on the current state of horror. On paper, the film is your generic haunt, but the Skype call format opens up new ways to scare the audience and build suspense. What makes this more than a cheap gimmick is the themes that the film chooses to touch on. Unfriended explores how social media can dilute deep personal connections and reduce them to mere aesthetics. In the digital age, taking a picture with the right people can help you climb socially. This film does a great job at highlighting these shallow friendships and the mess they can often leave behind.
Spree (2020)
The word “influencer” has become a stereotype in recent years. It can feel like everyone and their mother has a sizable following on some platform. Within this new hierarchy of internet personalities, live streamers seem to be on top—naturally, this attracts many newcomers and aspiring streamers. It’s a world and an income source that seems effortless on the outside but is actually an endless grind with fierce competition at every turn. I understand why the lifestyle would be so intoxicating to some. Unbridled attention based on your curated persona may as well be catnip for certain insecure people. Internet horror seems to always center on social aspects, such as video calls or emails; Spree shows us how dangerous it can be when loneliness meets the void that is the internet.
Kurt, brilliantly portrayed by Joe Keery, wants nothing more than to stream online. The film’s opening showcases his years of wasted efforts as we see his various attempts at internet fame. The horror here stems from Kurt’s desperation to be seen. While working as an Uber driver, he tries one final stream to achieve his dreams, a stream he dubbed “#thelesson.” It’s a horror film, so this lesson obviously involves plenty of death, but it’s the character study that makes the film so fascinating.
In a way, Spree was ahead of its time. Live-streaming was certainly alive and well in 2020, but it was far from the unescapable medium it has become today. The world Kurt inhabits in Spree looks eerily like the one we find ourselves in today. Every other character effortlessly acquires the audience that Kurt yearns for so deeply. The depressing part is that they do it by simply not trying. Kurt’s ultimate downfall was his earnest passion, which can be a death sentence on the internet.
We’re All Going To The World’s Fair (2022)
Jane Schoenbrun has been able to paint a wholly unique vibe with only two features under their belt. Their films explore how quickly surreality and mundanity can turn macabre when you’re coming of age surrounded by ever-evolving technology. Their confident first feature, We’re All Going To The World’s Fair, expertly depicts the digital malaise that is all too common when growing up in the social media age. Our protagonist is Casey, a young, lonely girl who spends much of her life on online platforms reminiscent of YouTube or Tumblr. She tries her hardest to form an online persona, but doesn’t know enough about herself to create one. Everything she sees on the screen becomes potential salvation, only for it to just fade away in favor of that familiar discomfort that lives deep inside of Casey.
The internet-based horror here is much more subtle. There aren’t any digitally native demons or serial killing streamers, but the dread is palpable in every single scene. The internet feels like a cursed object in this film. Every interaction Casey has is extremely Lynchian as she attempts to form an identity and build relationships online. The internet isn’t a tool in this film; it behaves more like an alternate universe, one that is alarmingly spilling into our material realities. The internet eventually destroys Casey’s childhood, the only connection she had to the real world.
Cam (2018)
Daniel Goldhaber’s Cam uses psychological horror to explore the world of online sex work in an empathetic and enlightening manner. The film centers on Alice, a ‘cam-girl’ who has made a living for herself through content for the internet. As she struggles with audience interaction and navigating this strange industry, we watch as she’s sucked into a disturbing battle for her own identity and agency.
The visuals here are perfect. The neon purple aesthetic feels ripped straight from 2010s Tumblr. This film not only skewers internet culture, but watching it feels like visiting a version of the web we are likely never to experience again. It’s equal parts cozy and disturbing. The homages to an older version of the internet do not mean that it’s living in the past—Cam feels ahead of its time in many ways. In 2018, when Cam was released, sites like OnlyFans were just starting to pop up on certain corners of the internet. Today, in 2026, this type of content is inescapable. Young girls are encouraged to start making content the moment they reach a certain age, while young boys have it shoved down their throats the second they log on. This is an issue we all see happening, but have no idea how to deal with. Cam showed us years ago how out of hand this lifestyle can get when left unchecked.
Internet horror comes in many different flavors and styles; that’s because every person’s online interactions differ. With the way that algorithms guide our hands through an ocean of false choices, we’re all on our own despite being connected more than ever. These five films each highlight a different aspect of the internet and find an all-out nightmare to explore.
