Buzz
Since the dawn of cinema, a broad and often sensational interpretation of the occult has been a recurring theme. The horror genre, in particular, has served as the unofficial domain for occult narratives, featuring devil worshippers, pagan cults, and similar elements in films like The Wicker Man and The Blood on Satan’s Claw. The 1960s and 1970s saw a surge in the popularity of occult-themed movies, coinciding with the hippie counterculture's fascination with Eastern philosophies and New Age practices, which were often portrayed in a darker light. Events like the Manson family murders further fueled the perception that the era's 'peace and love' ethos concealed a more sinister undercurrent.
While some films on this list originate from that era, others trace back to the silent film period. Many of these movies are connected to the occult through subtle or indirect ties. Some were crafted by writers aiming to shock audiences with blasphemous stories, while others were created by individuals deeply immersed in occult practices.
10. Nosferatu
Often mistakenly hailed as the first vampire film or the earliest adaptation of Bram Stoker’s Dracula (a title that may belong to the lost 1921 Hungarian film Dracula’s Death), Nosferatu remains a cinematic masterpiece. Directed by F.W. Murnau, this Expressionist horror film uses shadows and stark contrasts to weave its tale. As an unauthorized adaptation of Dracula, it follows a similar narrative of a Transylvanian vampire spreading terror in Western Europe, though with notable changes. The setting shifts from London to the fictional German city of Wisborg, and the timeline moves from the 1880s to the 1830s. In Nosferatu, the vampire’s curse becomes a literal plague, devastating an entire city. Characters like Tomas Hutter (Jonathan Harker) and Ellen Hutter (Mina Harker) bear altered names, while Count Orlok, the vampire, is depicted as a grotesque, rodent-like creature, diverging sharply from the aristocratic Count Dracula and aligning more closely with traditional folklore depictions of vampires.
Since the film was produced without authorization from Florence Stoker, Bram Stoker’s widow and the executor of his estate, it was withheld from release until it eventually entered the public domain years later. This legal issue nearly prevented audiences from experiencing what many consider the finest vampire film ever made, as well as exploring producer Albin Grau’s deliberate inclusion of occult symbolism. Grau, described as a lifelong occultist, conceived the idea for a vampire film after encountering Serbian vampire folklore during his service in the Balkans in World War I. As both producer and art designer, Grau infused the film with occult-inspired symbols in the correspondence between Count Orlok and the Renfield-esque character Knock. Together with producer Enrico Dieckman, Grau envisioned Nosferatu as a theosophical horror film, blending Eastern mysticism into its narrative.
9. The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
Premiering years before Nosferatu, Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari pioneered the use of Expressionist elements in horror cinema. This psychological exploration of insanity and fixation follows Francis (Friedrich Feher), a young student who becomes entangled in the schemes of the sinister circus performer and hypnotist Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss). Dr. Caligari manipulates his somnambulist, Cesare (Conrad Veidt), to target those closest to Francis. The story culminates in Francis’s descent into madness, revealing that the entire tale is his delusional explanation for his hatred of the sanitarium director, who bears a striking resemblance to Dr. Caligari.
Often interpreted as an allegory for Weimar Germany’s yearning for a political strongman, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was designed as a critique of authoritarianism. Screenwriter Carl Mayer, a pacifist after serving in World War I, drew inspiration from his encounters with an abusive military psychologist. Co-writer Hans Janowitz contributed to the story based on his firsthand experience witnessing a sexual murder in Hamburg. The film’s occult connection lies in its visual depiction of psychosis through distorted and eerie sets, as well as its exploration of cerebral suggestion, or mind control.
8. Genuine
Titled “Tale of a Vampire,” the 1920 film Genuine was also helmed by Robert Wiene. This obscure and surreal movie is essentially an extended dream sequence centered on an artist’s disturbing fixation with a painting of a goddess named Genuine. Similar to The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, Genuine showcases the striking painted sets designed by Expressionist artist Cesar Klein. The narrative portrays the priestess Genuine as skilled in Eastern mysticism and the practices of the occult.
A peculiar and largely forgotten film, Genuine was a commercial failure upon release and has not undergone significant critical reevaluation. However, it provides insight into the profound impact of Freudian psychoanalysis on German cinema in the early 1920s, as well as the deep interest Weimar filmmakers had in occult traditions. Wiene, alongside directors like Murnau and Paul Wegener, integrated elements of theosophy, Kabbalah, and the artistic styles of occult figures such as Paul Klee and Max Ernst into their early horror films.
7. Haxan
Though presented as a documentary, Danish director Benjamin Christensen’s 1922 film Haxan is regarded as one of the most impactful and unsettling works in horror cinema. Christensen was motivated to create the film after studying the Malleus Maleficarum, a notorious 15th-century witch-hunting manual authored by two German Catholic monks. Consequently, Haxan is filled with startling visuals depicting events like Walpurgis Night rituals and medieval dark magic. A significant portion of the film’s first half focuses on dramatizing acts of sacrilege and devil worship.
Despite its sensational content, Haxan ultimately posits that the witch hunts of the Middle Ages and Early Modern period stemmed from the misinterpretation of mental illnesses and mass hysteria as demonic possession. Upon its release, the film’s rational arguments were overlooked. Viewed as a harsh critique of Catholicism, around 8,000 Catholic women protested its French premiere in Paris. In the United States, Haxan was completely banned.
6. The Magician
Rex Ingram’s 1926 film The Magician, featuring German actor and director Paul Wegener as the sinister wizard Oliver Haddo, stands as an overlooked gem of the silent film era. Ingram’s screenplay remains largely faithful to W. Somerset Maugham’s 1908 novel, which the author wrote as a calculated effort to achieve financial success. The story revolves around Haddo’s dark scheme to sacrifice the life of the enchanting Margaret to create monstrous homunculi. Maugham drew inspiration from his acquaintance, the infamous English occultist Aleister Crowley, who later publicly accused Maugham of plagiarism, claiming the novel closely mirrored his own life and work.
In the film, Wegener’s portrayal of Haddo is chillingly effective, enhanced by Ingram’s innovative cinematography. A standout scene is a nightmarish dream sequence where Haddo employs black magic to conjure a horrifying ritual dedicated to the Greek god Pan. Interestingly, Crowley himself was rumored to have attempted summoning Pan during a ritual in Paris in the early 20th century, adding a layer of eerie coincidence to the film’s narrative.
5. Vampyr
Carl Theodor Dreyer’s 1932 film Vampyr is not based on Dracula but rather loosely adapts J. Sheridan Le Fanu’s novella Carmilla. Despite being released during the dawn of sound cinema, Vampyr is predominantly silent, immersing viewers in the eerie, vampire-plagued village of Courtempierre. The protagonist, Allan Gray (played by the film’s financier Nicolas de Gunzburg), is a dedicated occult scholar whose sanity unravels upon entering the village. The film’s narrative is deliberately untrustworthy, steeped in psychoanalysis, dreamlike sequences, and rich occult symbolism.
The events in Vampyr might unfold in a parallel reality where Gray has already passed away, leaving him to witness the gradual decline of Courtempierre’s inhabitants. A more straightforward interpretation suggests Gray’s strange encounters stem from a vampire’s curse plaguing the village, which is only lifted when Gray and his love interest Gisele (Rena Mandel) pierce the heart of the elderly Marguerite Chopin (Henriette Gerard) with an iron spike. In the climax, the duo flees the village as the malevolent village doctor (Maurice Schutz) unintentionally ends his own life in an abandoned mill.
Dreyer once revealed that his fascination with the supernatural began in childhood after discovering occult-related books in his grandmother’s library.
4. Lucifer Rising
Kenneth Anger’s experimental short film Lucifer Rising serves as a tribute to San Francisco’s 1960s counterculture. The film is a psychedelic exploration of Anger’s quest for a contemporary Lucifer, a bringer of light destined to herald a new era of liberation. Anger’s depiction of Lucifer draws heavily from Aleister Crowley’s writings, which envisioned Lucifer as the deity of the age of Horus. Another key influence was Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan, who portrays the Devil in Anger’s other occult work, Invocation of My Demon Brother. This film, created from footage of the original Lucifer Rising, features Bobby Beausoleil, a convicted murderer associated with the Manson Family, who also composed a soundtrack for Lucifer Rising. An additional soundtrack was produced by Led Zeppelin guitarist and Crowley admirer Jimmy Page.
Overall, Lucifer Rising, starring British pop icon Marianne Faithfull as the demon Lilith, embodies Anger’s unique vision of the counterculture’s emerging spiritual movement.
3. Metropolis
Fritz Lang’s 1927 film Metropolis is a cinematic triumph depicting a futuristic city starkly divided by class. The affluent reside in towering skyscrapers aboveground, enjoying modern luxuries and serene gardens, while the laborers toil in cramped underground quarters. The city’s work culture embodies extreme Taylorization, with even mundane actions like walking being rigidly controlled and synchronized. Freder (Gustav Frohlich), the privileged son of Metropolis’s architect, falls for Maria (Brigitte Helm), a poor girl, and ventures into the oppressive machine zones where workers endure grueling labor. Disguised as a worker, Freder experiences the dehumanizing nature of the city’s labor firsthand, notably in a scene where he operates a massive clock after replacing an exhausted worker. He also witnesses a catastrophic accident that claims lives and leaves many injured. During this tragedy, Freder envisions the factory morphing into a temple honoring Moloch, an ancient demon associated with child sacrifice in the Old Testament.
Concerned by his son’s growing empathy for the oppressed workers, Joh Fredersen (Alfred Abel) enlists the help of the deranged inventor Rotwang. Rotwang constructs a female robot modeled after his lost love, Hel, to incite rebellion among the workers. In the scene where Hel is animated, Rotwang’s laboratory features prominent pentagrams. Lang initially aimed to delve deeper into the theme of technology versus magic, but edits to Metropolis largely removed this narrative thread.
After successfully sparking unrest among the workers, Hel is brought aboveground to perform an alluring dance for Metropolis’s elite. In this sequence, Hel is directly likened to the Whore of Babylon from the Book of Revelation. This is one of several biblical references in the film, including the recounting of the Tower of Babel, which mirrors the city’s design inspired by medieval depictions of the legendary structure. Some interpret these symbols as evidence of the film’s connection to the Illuminati conspiracy.
Lang and his wife/co-creator Thea von Harbou, who penned the novel and screenplay for Metropolis, clearly had an interest in occult themes. Von Harbou’s later alignment with National Socialism may have been influenced by her fascination with Eastern mysticism and the occult.
2. The Holy Mountain
Alejandro Jodorowsky’s The Holy Mountain is a surrealist masterpiece, blending Christian mysticism, occult imagery, and psychedelic storytelling into a bewildering narrative. The film reimagines the Tarot deck, with characters embodying cards like the Thief, the Hermit, and the Devil. Central to the story is the Alchemist, played by Jodorowsky, who conducts elaborate magical rituals often involving naked women, Tarot figures, and goats.
The Holy Mountain is not Jodorowsky’s only exploration of the occult. His body of work frequently merges occult themes with absurdity and altered states of consciousness, earning him the label of a Gnostic filmmaker. Both this film and his 1970 work El Topo have been accused by certain conspiracy theorists of promoting Illuminati ideologies.
1. Simon, King of the Witches
At first glance, Bruce Kessler’s 1971 film Simon, King of the Witches appears to be a campy homage to the Satanic horror films popular at the time. The story follows Simon, a Los Angeles magician who attempts to curse the “Establishment” through a series of Satanic rituals, often involving his enchanted mirror. The film’s tone is undeniably tongue-in-cheek, exemplified by a scene where Simon and his accomplice Turk (George Paulsin) perform a drug-induced ritual with a goat and Ultra Violet, a former muse of Andy Warhol who later became a Mormon convert.
Many scholars have noted that Simon, King of the Witches demonstrates a deep understanding of genuine occult traditions. Although Simon Sinestrari (Andrew Prine), a ceremonial magician residing in a storm drain, serves as a satirical take on the counterculture figure, his bizarre escapades may draw inspiration from the real-life rituals of California occultist Poke Runyon.
