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Jamie Clayton Getty 2.jpg

The Best Horror Performances of 2022 That Totally Deserved Oscar Recognition

By Kayleigh Donaldson | Film | February 1, 2023 |

By Kayleigh Donaldson | Film | February 1, 2023 |


Jamie Clayton Getty 2.jpg

It feels like, every year, as the Oscar nominations are rolled out, we have the same conversation about how horror cinema is shut out of the prestige party. And for good reason: it’s true and we should keep saying it! Horror is a fascinating genre for actors, one that can offer many opportunities for something stranger, more off-the-hook than your average drama will allow. Alas, even its most daring and boundary-pushing performances don’t tend to get a lot of recognition from the Academy. There are exceptions, of course, from Daniel Kaluuya in Get Out to Jodie Foster and Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs. Yet they remain few and far between, especially in a year like 2022 when there was an embarrassment of riches to choose from. So, we’ve chosen some performances from horror cinema of the past year that would have been entirely deserving of an Oscar nomination. Take notes, Academy voters!

Jamie Clayton in Hellraiser

The announcement of a new Hellraiser movie left fans excited and nervous. It had been a while since we’d had a vaguely good entry in the beleaguered franchise, to the point where its creator, Clive Barker, had long disowned his own creation. But the Hulu revamp by David Bruckner exceeded our expectations and instantly became one of the best Hellraiser movies since the early ’90s. At its blackened heart is Jamie Clayton as the Hell Priest, better known as Pinhead.

It takes real nerve, and a razor-embedded spine of steel, to follow in the footsteps of one of the most instantly recognizable performances in horror cinema, that of Doug Bradley. Yet Clayton instantly made this iconic villain her own. Her Hell Priest, dressed in their own flayed flesh, is a quiet figure of foreboding, ecclesiastical in approach as they send the puzzle box’s victims to their unbearable doom. They’re quiet, almost distant from their occupation’s horror. Yet there’s still a sliver of pleasure to their work, the well-worn sensation of someone who knows what is to come. They’re haughty, two steps ahead of everyone else and they seem to be the only person aware of that. We wouldn’t blame you for getting tangled up in this Hell Priest’s chains. Here’s hoping we get to see more of Clayton in this role.

Mia Goth in X and Pearl

Much has been made about Mia Goth’s work in Ti West’s horror duology (soon to become a trilogy), wherein she played two roles across the decades of a twisted tale. Believe the hype: she is that good. Goth utterly commits to the madness, her performances pitched somewhere between opera and kitchen sink drama. She’s a hurricane in Pearl, a young Bette Davis in Of Human Bondage if she were wielding a weapon. In Pearl, the prequel to X, she is especially good, embodying the most feral aspects of what happens when the stifling confines of femininity prove too much to bear. She seems truly dangerous but not without cause, so beaten down and mistreated has she been by all around her. It’s no wonder that Goth is fast becoming our newest scream queen.

Alexander Skarsgård and Nicole Kidman in The Northman

The Northman isn’t as embedded in the horror genre as Robert Eggers’ previous films, but its most striking moments worm their way under your skin, the cinematic equivalent of a scab you can’t help but want to pick at. It’s the perfect showcase for Skarsgård, a character actor with the face and body of the hottest man in Sweden. As Amleth, the vengeful prince, he has the most fitting opportunity to use his physicality for more than eye candy (but don’t worry, he also offers plenty of that.) He’s a figure of pure myth made flesh, steeped in the most binary of ethical understanding. When that view of the world, and his entire purpose for being, is challenged, it’s akin to a death sentence. Skarsgård can brood like the best of them but his best moments are when the impenetrability of his forceful façade reveals a chink in the armor.

Nicole Kidman, by contrast, is icy, a true queen of the game who is playing a more complex trick than even her closest allies are aware of. Every few years, it feels like we see a bunch of reviews heralding Kidman’s work then being surprised that she is indeed a great actress. At first, she seems out of place in The Northman, too polished for this grimy tale. Then she reveals her hand, and it’s glorious, a moment of pure cruel mania that allows Kidman to revel in her ability to menace. Never underestimate her.

Steven Yeun and Keke Palmer in Nope

Many of the early reviews for Jordan Peele’s Nope saw it as good, if not great. I admit that, when I first saw it, I wasn’t enamored with his take on UFOs, voyeurism, and the parasitic nature of both. But I can’t deny that I’ve spent a lot of the past few months thinking about it, about its layers and nuances and the density of its ideas. It didn’t surprise me that, by the end of 2022, it was on many people’s Best Of list, including ours.

Peele is excellent with his actors, able to mediate their brasher elements in favor of a tightrope walk of tone. His films are laugh-out-loud funny then terrifying then melancholy and none of it feels inorganic. Daniel Kaluuya is excellent as always here, the stoic thinker keeping everything bottled up, but it’s Keke Palmer and Steven Yeun that left me in knots. Palmer is one of the most charismatic actresses working today and Peele knows exactly how to make her fit into his strange world. Yeun is a minor revelation as a former child star trapped in the forced nostalgia of his past. When he gives that monologue about the tragedy that defined his life, telling it through the lens of the SNL parody of the moment, you see a man who doesn’t know how to do anything but perform. The strain is evident but well-hidden, a mixture of delusion and decimated ego. With both characters, you get the sense that Peele has another film’s worth of material to explore. It’s almost a shame we won’t see that, but what we have will have us fascinated for years to come.

Amber Midthunder in Prey

Few people expected the latest Predator movie to be much to write home about, but Dan Trachtenberg’s Prey was one of 2022’s most delicious surprises. Set on the Great Plains in 1719, the protagonist is Naru, a woman of the Comanche Nation who must deal with misogyny from her own people, the threat of French fur trappers, and the arrival of an alien warrior who hunts humans for sport. Amber Midthunder, a member of the Fort Peck Sioux Tribe, headlined a mostly Native cast and gave a true breakout performance. In terms of sheer physicality, it’s a masterclass from Midthunder, as she goes toe to toe with not only the predator himself but bears, rivers, and the might of nature. Naru is tough, a determined hunter who is underestimated by the men of her community, but she’s far more observant than all of them put together. There’s a precision to her approach but also a tenderness, especially in her relationship with her dog. More of her in the future, please!

Anna Cobb in We’re All Going to the World’s Fair

Few films in 2022 captured the aching isolation of online life as potently as Jane Schoenbrun’s horror debut We’re All Going to the World’s Fair. Low budget, lo-fi, and languidly paced, this coming-of-age tale about a teenager who plays a creepypasta-esque internet game and sinks into a dark state nailed the ways that the supposed limitlessness of the web can actually exacerbate our own pain. Anna Cobb, so wide-eyed and hopelessly naive, plays Casey, the girl who joins in the infamous World’s Fair game, mostly because it’s another way to pass the time. Her entire being is online, a salve from the loneliness of real life, whether it’s through finding friends via the World’s Fair or falling asleep to ASMR videos. Cobb strikes a fine balance between innocent and jaded as Casey spirals amid her disconnect from real life, whatever that is. There’s mystique to her but also something achingly relatable. Cobb embodies the quiet turmoil of a life lived online and in desperate search for answers.

Rebecca Hall in Resurrection

Horror frequently offers actresses new and untapped ways to show off their talents, opportunities to be looser and pricklier than the stock roles of womanhood in more mainstream films. Rebecca Hall is an actress whose most impactful work in recent years has come from this genre rather than the plumier dramas she established herself with. Resurrection follows 2020’s The Night House in allowing Hall to show exactly what she’s capable of. Hall is a rare actress who seems allergic to falseness in her performances, unable to even entertain the possibility of cliche. Resurrection, which is a bleak and often unpleasant watch, could have slid into tedium with the wrong actress, but Hall never slacks. What at first seems like a familiar tale of a woman trying to outrun her abusive ex soon reveals its shocking hand, and Hall makes it all wholly believable. To say anymore would be to give it away and Resurrection deserves to be seen with as little given away as possible. But rest assured that Hall is giving a career best performance here, so steeped in vengeance and guilt and trauma that you soon become trapped in her orbit.