Why Awards DO Matter for Horror
As a horror fan, I've been one to say "award season doesn't matter". When what has been established shuts you out long enough, you learn to make your own table. The horror community has built our own systems for celebrating the genre: Fangoria's Chainsaw Awards to the fan-led year-end events and community voting that actually reflect what horror lovers care about.
But this year the industry is paying attention. Sinners, Weapons, Frankenstein, 28 Years Later: horror is suddenly everywhere on nomination lists, rubbing elbows with dramas and Oscar bait. And that shift is exactly why the “we don’t need awards” talking point doesn’t hold up anymore and I can admit that I was wrong. Horror might not need a trophy to survive, but awards do indeed shape whether the genre gets the space, funding, and respect it absolutely deserves.
Let’s break this down.
Awards Don’t Validate the Fandom But They Can Shift the Industry
We horror fans already know what’s good. We can spot a great kill, a standout performance, or a genius practical-effects moment long before the Academy catches up. The issue isn’t our taste. The issue is the system.
A nomination or win signals to studios and investors that:
- horror is worth real money
- horror deserves real marketing
- horror performances count as “serious acting”
- horror filmmakers should be hired for major projects
A nomination can change an actor’s entire career trajectory. It can turn an indie director into the next big studio hire. It can be the difference between “we’ll give you $3 million” and “how does $10 million sound?”
That matters for the genre’s long-term health even if we’re doing just fine as a fandom.
Think about the ripple effects of Get Out, or how Black Swan and The Witch shifted the cultural interest toward psychological and atmospheric horror. When the industry sees that critics and voting bodies will reward horror, suddenly horror isn’t really a “risk” anymore but a strategy that they can use. The films nominated this year don't just represent horror being included but they represent horror being taken seriously. It means something is shifting in real time and we shouldn’t shrug that off.
Last year, The Substance sent a message studios couldn’t ignore: horror is valuable. Coralie Fargeat’s body-horror fever dream made waves within the genre, forcing its way into the awards conversation. Its recognition signaled something horror fans have known for years: that horror is capable of delivering bold performances, rigorous craft, and depth without shying away from what makes horror what it is. It served as a warning of what was to come this season.
If this moment leads to a trend (and it very well could) the results are huge. It leads to higher budgets (not just for franchises, but originals), more horror at major festivals, more opportunities for rising directors, better roles for actors who built careers in genre, studios taking horror seriously. Awards visibility creates longevity; the kind that protects horror from being sidelined whenever studios panic about the market.
Horror has always thrived without mainstream approval. It’s scrappy. It’s inventive. It’s fearless. But awards offer something the community alone can’t provide: a direct line to industry respect, future funding, and creative freedom. We shouldn’t rely on awards to tell us what’s great, but we also shouldn’t pretend the recognition doesn’t matter. This year, horror isn’t just at the table. It’s being served as the main course. And if we want that to continue, then yes, awards DO matter.