10 Best Movies Like The Lighthouse to Watch Now | Similar-List

The Lighthouse is an enthralling journey into madness and isolation that dares to challenge your sense of reality. Robert Eggers masterfully combines striking black-and-white cinematography with a haunting sound design, crafting an experience that resonates long after the credits have rolled. The powerhouse performances by Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe are nothing short of monumental, vividly portraying the characters’ descent into chaos.

While The Lighthouse stands out within the realm of psychological horror, numerous other films echo its haunting themes, atmospheric depth, and unique stylistic choices. For those captivated by this unsettling narrative, here are some movies like The Lighthouse that will resonate.

10 Best Movies Like The Lighthouse

The Witch (2015)

The Witch, directed by Robert Eggers, is a chilling tale centered on the fragility of family bonds and the pervasive influence of faith set against the rich tapestry of 17th-century Puritan New England. The film meticulously depicts a devout family, led by patriarch William, who becomes increasingly isolated after being banished from their community. Their new home is a desolate farmhouse bordering an ominous forest—an unsettling setting that serves as a character in its own right.

As the family struggles to survive, they quickly encounter dark forces—both supernatural and psychological. Eggers crafts an atmosphere steeped in dread, using historical accuracy to ground the film. The dialogue is drawn from period-appropriate texts, creating an authentic Puritan vernacular that enhances the chilling experience. This linguistic precision further immerses viewers in the family's plight, where every whispered prayer and desperate plea becomes a haunting echo of their desperation.

The film's cinematography is captivating, with its dimly lit scenes and striking use of shadows amplifying the feeling of isolation. The relentless bleakness of the landscape mirrors the family's deteriorating mental state. As their livestock begin to disappear and their crops fail, paranoia sets in, leading to suspicion and conflict among family members.

At the heart of the narrative is Thomasin, the eldest daughter, portrayed with haunting depth by Anya Taylor-Joy. Her transformation from an obedient daughter to a figure of suspicion reflects the broader themes of innocence lost and societal fear. Her struggle to prove her innocence as her family descends into paranoia creates a powerful commentary on the witch trials of the time, highlighting how fear can corrupt even the closest of relationships.

The Witch does not resort to typical horror tropes but builds tension through psychological dread. The film’s climax, culminating in a confrontation with a sinister entity, challenges the viewer to reflect on the real horrors of isolation, fear, and the impact of religious fanaticism. The visual and thematic richness culminates in a powerful finale that lingers long after the viewing, forcing audiences to contemplate the nature of evil and the fragility of faith.

In essence, The Witch is a masterclass in horror, intertwining psychological depth, historical context, and thematic complexity. It resonates with fans of The Lighthouse through its shared exploration of isolation and madness, ensuring that both films remain haunting touchstones in the genre.

Jaws (1975)

Jaws, directed by Steven Spielberg, is a landmark film that defined the summer blockbuster and created an indelible impact on the horror and thriller genres. Set in the quaint beach town of Amity Island, the story begins with a young woman's gruesome shark attack, which sets off a chain of events that sparks both fear and fascination within the community.

One of the film's most compelling elements is its portrayal of fear—fear of the unknown lurking beneath the water. The iconic mechanical shark, dubbed "Bruce" by the crew, may not have functioned perfectly during filming. Still, this limitation brilliantly escalated the tension, forcing Spielberg to rely on suspense rather than overt horror. The legendary score composed by John Williams—characterized by the ominous, two-note motif—serves as a brilliant harbinger of the impending danger and has since become one of the most recognizable soundtracks in film history.

The narrative intricately weaves together the tension between the fishermen and the shark, mainly through the characters of Police Chief Brody (Roy Scheider), the oceanographer Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss), and the grizzled shark hunter Quint (Robert Shaw). Chief Brody embodies the everyman’s struggle against an unseen terror, battling the shark, and the skepticism of a community more focused on tourism than safety. With his larger-than-life persona, Quint delivers a riveting monologue about his traumatic experiences aboard the USS Indianapolis, providing chilling context to his obsession with hunting the predator and solidifying his character as a tragic hero entwined with vengeance.

Jaws also revolutionized how films approached marketing and audience engagement, showing that anticipation could be built before a film’s release. The marketing campaign—and the iconic poster featuring just the shark's fin above water—created a sense of thrill and dread that drew audiences in droves, solidifying its status as a cultural phenomenon.

Moreover, Jaws explores deeper themes such as man versus nature, the psychological impact of fear, and the consequences of denial. As residents and summer tourists struggle to reconcile their love for the ocean with the genuine danger of the shark, the film mirrors society's vulnerabilities and frightening tendencies to ignore tangible threats.

For fans of psychological tension and horror, Jaws is a suspenseful masterclass, making every splash and ripple in the water a potential harbinger of doom. Its legacy extends beyond the realm of thrillers—through its stirring character dynamics, masterful direction, and relentless tension, Jaws remains an invaluable piece of cinematic history that continues to influence filmmakers and entertain audiences worldwide.

Good Time (2017)

Good Time is a pulsating, frenetic exploration of desperation and moral ambiguity directed by the Safdie Brothers. This 2017 thriller follows Robert Pattinson's character, Connie Nikas, as he embarks on a frantic mission to rescue his mentally challenged brother, Nick, from prison after a robbery goes horribly wrong. It's a relentless race against time illuminated by neon lights and a synth-heavy soundtrack, immersing viewers in a world of chaos and urgency.

The film opens with a gripping bank heist that sets the tone for the whirlwind journey ahead. As things unravel, Connie’s determination leads him through a series of increasingly reckless decisions. The Safdie Brothers expertly craft each scene, blending dark humor with tension as Connie encounters a diverse cast of characters—from desperate hustlers to elusive criminals—each adding to the film’s unpredictable nature.

Pattinson’s performance is nothing short of transformative. He sheds the teen heartthrob image from his earlier work, diving deep into the role of a morally flawed protagonist. His portrayal is raw and visceral, capturing the essence of a man who will do anything to protect his brother, even if it means crossing dangerous lines. This role marks a significant turning point in Pattinson’s career, showcasing his range as an actor and establishing him as a dominant force in contemporary cinema.

Moreover, Good Time isn't just a crime story; it's an examination of flawed humanity and the intricate bonds of family. As Connie navigates the gritty underbelly of New York City, the film delves into deeper themes of loyalty, desperation, and the consequences of one’s choices. The unrelenting pace keeps audiences on the edge of their seats while the character of Connie embodies the perpetual struggle between right and wrong.

The Safdie Brothers also employ a unique visual style, combining handheld camerawork with vibrant color palettes that reflect the chaotic emotions of the narrative. Through their lens, the audience becomes intimately connected to the characters' plight, each heartbeat and frantic moment resonating with palpable intensity.

With its tight screenplay and masterfully crafted tension, Good Time transcends traditional crime drama, becoming a poignant exploration of love, sacrifice, and the cost of one’s actions. For fans of The Lighthouse, this film offers a similarly immersive experience, capturing the essence of characters caught in desperate circumstances while also spotlighting Pattinson's captivating transformation. This film highlights his brilliant performance and serves as a reminder of the lengths one would go to for family, making it a must-watch for those drawn to intense, character-driven narratives.

The Signalman (1976)

The Signalman is a haunting television adaptation of Charles Dickens' short story about a lonely signalman working in a desolate railway station. Set in the Victorian era, this BBC production captures the essence of Gothic horror with its atmospheric storytelling, stirring performances, and rich visual style.

At its core, the narrative revolves around the Signalman, portrayed masterfully by Denholm Elliott, who grapples with a haunting presSignalman he believes is a harbinger of disaster. The Signalman’s encounters with a ghostly figure warning him of impending tragedy encapsulate the signalman’s isolation and psychological turmoil, mirroring the oppressive atmosphere in The Lighthouse.

A particular strength of The Signalman is its exploration of the nature of reality and perception. The audience is invited to question whether the Signalman’s ghostly visions stem from a troubled mind or an authentic supernatural. Signalman's ambiguity adds depth to the narrative, creating a chilling tension that resonates with viewers.

Visually, the film employs the haunting backdrop of the desolate railway tracks, fog-laden landscapes, and the intricate inner workings of the signal cabin, enhancing the story’s unsettling tone. The meticulous attention to period detail not only grounds the viewer in the time but also amplifies the isolation felt by the protagonist.

Moreover, the Signalman's deep sense of dread and despair reflects the psychological intricacies seen in Signalman's. Much like the characters played by Robert Pattinson and Willem Dafoe, he is consumed by an inescapable weight, gripped by the fear of fate and mortality. The sound design, from the ominous whistle of approaching trains to the chilling silence of the night, amplifies the psychological horror.

In conclusion, The Signalman is a masterpiece of suspense and subtle horror. Its exploration of isolation, spectral warnings, and the psychological unraveling of its central character resonates deeply with audiences who appreciate films like The Lighthouse. The Signalman is a must-watch if you are drawn to stories that blend the supernatural with profound existential questions.

The Others (2001)

Set against the backdrop of World War II, The Others is a masterfully crafted ghost story that skillfully manipulates audience expectations and perceptions. Nicole Kidman delivers a haunting performance as Grace, a mother who struggles to protect her two light-sensitive children, Anne and Nicholas, in their eerie, remote mansion. The film expertly builds tension through its atmospheric dread, characterized by dimly lit corridors and an oppressive silence that amplifies every sound, making viewers hyper-aware of the unseen dangers lurking in the shadows.

As the plot unfolds, the audience is drawn deeper into Grace's fragile psyche. Her increasingly paranoid behavior, heightened by her husband's mysterious disappearance and the strange occurrences within the house, blurs the lines between reality and hallucination. The film's brilliant use of psychological horror culminates in twists that redefine viewers' understanding of the narrative.

One standout aspect is how The Others utilizes its setting—a sprawling mansion filled with dark corners and hidden spaces—to evoke fear. The location's isolation amplifies the characters' vulnerability and enhances the chilling atmosphere. Grace’s unwavering dedication to her children, set against the haunting backdrop of their home, highlights themes of maternal instinct and protection—elements that resonate deeply with audiences.

Moreover, The Others consistently plays with themes of confinement and the supernatural. As Grace becomes increasingly convinced that their home is haunted, the film raises profound questions about the nature of reality and the afterlife. The revelation of the film’s true nature in its final act not only delivers a shocking twist but also turns the entire viewing experience on its head, inviting viewers to rethink what they thought they knew.

This blend of psychological tension, emotional depth, and supernatural elements makes The Others a poignant exploration of grief and loss, akin to the existential dread presented in The Lighthouse. Both films ultimately reflect on the fragility of the human condition, leaving audiences with lingering thoughts about life, death, and the invisible forces that shape our understanding of reality.

The Shining (1980)

Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining eloquently explores the psychological toll of isolation. The film follows Jack Torrance, played by Jack Nicholson, as he succumbs to madness within the labyrinthine halls of the Overlook Hotel. This iconic horror film is renowned for its meticulous craftsmanship—Kubrick’s use of wide-angle shots and striking color palettes creates an unsettling atmosphere that reflects Jack’s deteriorating mental state.

The film's narrative centers around the Torrance family as they navigate the hotel's eerie surroundings, which is a character filled with its dark history. The hotel’s sinister past, including violent incidents and ghostly apparitions, serves to amplify the tension as Jack becomes increasingly unhinged.

One of the film's most memorable aspects is its exploration of family dynamics, particularly between Jack, his wife Wendy (Shelley Duvall), and their young son Danny. Danny’s psychic ability, referred to as "the shining," allows him to perceive the hotel's evil presence and the dangers that lurk within, heightening the stakes as he attempts to protect his mother from Jack's rising madness.

Iconic scenes, such as the “Here’s Johnny!” moment and the chilling visual of the twin girls in the hallway, have etched themselves into the collective horror psyche, standing as testaments to Kubrick's ability to evoke fear without relying on gore. The film’s haunting score, featuring dissonant tones and eerie melodies, further amplifies the tension, drawing viewers deeper into Jack’s spiral into insanity.

Both The Shining and The Lighthouse share a central theme of confinement, as the isolation of the Overlook Hotel mirrors the claustrophobic atmosphere of the Lighthouse’s work. In both films, the character’s descent into madness is portrayed against stark, desolate backdrops, underscoring the fragility of sanity when faced with overwhelming emotional and psychological pressures.

With its seamless blend of supernatural elements and psychological horror, The Shining remains a landmark in the genre. It is a compelling companion to The Lighthouse for those intrigued by narratives that delve into the darker recesses of the human mind and morality.

The Borderlands (2013)

The Borderlands, also known as Final Prayer, is a gripping found footage horror film that invites viewers into an unsettling exploration of faith and the supernatural. The story follows a team of Vatican investigators Elliot Goldner directs to document a series of mysterious and potentially supernatural occurrences at an old English church.

At the heart of the film is the character of Father Deacon, played by the talented Gordon Kennedy, whose skepticism is challenged as he encounters phenomena that defy rational explanation. The film skillfully blends elements of realism with the occult, utilizing the first-person perspective typical of found footage cinema to heighten the sense of immersion and immediacy. As the investigation unfolds, the viewer becomes acutely aware of the growing tension among the team members—spurred by their differing beliefs and mounting paranoia about the forces they are confronting.

What sets The Borderlands apart is its unique narrative structure. Unlike many horror films that rely heavily on jump scares, this movie builds psychological tension through slow, methodical pacing. It immerses viewers in an atmosphere of dread, making every creaking floorboard and flickering light feel significant. The claustrophobic setting of the church, filled with shadows and echoes, becomes a character in its own right, amplifying the film's eerie ambiance.

Moreover, the film excels in character development, allowing viewers to connect with the investigators. Their struggles and motivations add depth to the narrative, making the horror they face feel more impactful. For instance, the ongoing conflict between faith and skepticism becomes a central theme, culminating in a gripping climax that challenges the very foundations of belief.

Another noteworthy aspect is the film’s practical effects, which lend a visceral authenticity to the supernatural elements. The chilling visuals and unsettling sounds enhance the overall experience, ensuring the terror feels grounded rather than overly fantastical.

Ultimately, The Borderlands is a compelling exploration of the intersection between faith, fear, and the unknown. It provides thrills and prompts introspection about the nature of belief and the horrors that might exist just beyond the veil of our understanding. For fans of atmospheric horror, this film is a must-watch, promising to leave viewers questioning what lurks in the shadows long after the final frame.

The Fog (1980)

John Carpenter’s The Fog is a masterclass in atmospheric horror that transports viewers to the coastal town of Antonio Bay, California, where a sinister legacy of vengeful spirits is awakened. The film opens with a haunting prologue set a hundred years prior, revealing the town's dark history, which was founded by a group of shipwreck survivors who met a tragic fate. This backstory establishes the eerie setting and sets the stage for the unfolding supernatural events.

As the present-day centennial festivities approach, a dense, mysterious fog covers the city in a veil of dread. Within this mist lies a force far more sinister than the townsfolk could ever anticipate. The fog conceals the vengeful spirits of the sailors who perished due to the town’s ancestors, seeking retribution against those who wronged them.

The film's robust sound design and score, also composed by Carpenter, enhances its chilling atmosphere. The suspenseful music, characterized by its unsettling synths, builds tension and prepares audiences for the impending terror. Furthermore, the fog itself serves as a visual metaphor for the unknown, symbolizing the buried secrets of Antonio Bay that threaten to resurface and consume the living.

One of the standout aspects of The Fog is its ensemble cast, which features Jamie Lee Curtis, Adrienne Barbeau, and Hal Holbrook. Barbeau, in particular, delivers a memorable performance as radio DJ Stevie Wayne. Her eerie broadcasts echo through the fog, warning residents of the dangers lurking just out of sight. Her character embodies the connection between the living and the dead, heightening the film's sense of impending doom.

The film effectively employs practical effects to create its ghosts, adding a layer of authenticity to their haunting presence. The fog rolls in like a living entity. As the evil spirits emerge from it, the combination of atmospheric visuals and tangible threats solidifies The Fog as a quintessential horror experience.

In shaping The Fog, Carpenter draws on classic horror motifs while crafting a unique narrative emphasizing the importance of facing one's past. The intertwining histories of the townsfolk and the spirits underscore themes of guilt and retribution, ultimately delivering a poignant message about accountability and the consequences of betrayal.

For fans of The Lighthouse, The Fog offers a similar exploration of isolation and supernatural terror, enhanced by rich storytelling and compelling characters. The feeling of dread and impending doom are palpable throughout, making it an unforgettable ride for those who dare to watch.

Cold Skin (2017)

Set on a remote, windswept island in the early 20th century, Cold Skin is a visually captivating horror film that fuses elements of fantasy and existential dread. The story follows a weathered young man named Friend, who arrives at a desolate coastal outpost to work as a meteorologist. Soon after his arrival, he discovers he is not alone; the island is inhabited by mysterious sea creatures who emerge at night to terrorize his solitude.

The film delves into profound themes of isolation and humanity's primal instincts. As Friend grapples with his encroaching madness, his struggle for survival mirrors the internal conflicts the characters face in The Lighthouse. The brutal environment and psychological strain push Friend to the edge, raising questions about the nature of humanity when confronted with the unknown.

What makes Cold Skin particularly engaging is its exploration of the relationship between Friend and a mysterious sea creature named Gruner, portrayed with surprising depth. Rather than simply presenting Gruner as a monster, the film examines themes of empathy and connection across species, blurring the lines between humans and creatures. This dynamic invites viewers to consider who the actual monsters are: the misunderstood beings of the deep or the isolated human-driven to desperation.

Visually, Cold Skin is striking. The cinematography emphasizes the bleakness of the island and the turbulent sea, creating an immersive atmosphere that parallels the oppressive dread found in The Lighthouse. The haunting score further enhances the tension, drawing viewers into the film's eerie world.

In addition to its compelling characters and atmospheric setting, Cold Skin invites viewers to reflect on broader existential themes, such as the search for meaning and the fragility of sanity in isolation. The film poses haunting questions: What is the cost of survival? How do isolation and fear distort our understanding of reality?

Overall, Cold Skin is a noteworthy addition to the genre, resonating with the themes of isolation and existential dread that define The Lighthouse. For those drawn to stories that challenge perceptions of humanity and explore the depths of despair, Cold Skin offers a captivating experience that lingers long after viewing.

A Field In England (2013)

A Field in England is a visually striking and thematically rich film directed by Ben Wheatley. It transports audiences to the tumultuous backdrop of the English Civil War. Set in the 17th century, the film centers around a group of deserters who become entangled in a nightmarish journey through a mysterious field. As they search for safety, the characters spiral deeper into a surreal and hallucinatory experience that blurs the lines between reality and madness.

The film is notable for its unique narrative structure and experimental style, employing a predominantly black-and-white palette that enhances its bleak atmosphere. Laurie Rose's cinematography captures the vastness of the English countryside while simultaneously evoking a sense of claustrophobia, mirroring the characters' internal struggles. This striking visual style reinforces the film’s disorientation and existential dread themes.

A distinctive aspect of A Field in England is its exploration of power dynamics and human desperation. The characters' interactions are fraught with tension as they grapple with greed, fear, and the pursuit of knowledge. The presence of a mysterious alchemist, played with an unsettling presence by Michael Smiley, adds to the film’s sense of foreboding. His cryptic dialogue and menacing nature catalyze the group’s descent into paranoia and betrayal, highlighting the film's critique of human ambition and the darker sides of the human psyche.

Moreover, Wheatley skillfully incorporates elements of dark comedy into the narrative. The absurdity of the characters' situation often elicits both laughter and discomfort, creating an unpredictable viewing experience reflecting war's chaotic nature. This blend of humor and horror contributes to the film's surreal quality, making it a compelling study of human behavior under duress.

Sound design plays a crucial role in the overall atmosphere of A Field In England. The film features a haunting score by Jim Williams that draws viewers into the characters' disintegrating mental states. The soundscape is punctuated by dissonant strains and the unsettling sounds of nature, which heighten the sense of impending doom. This meticulous attention to sound further immerses the audience in the characters’ frantic reality.

Ultimately, A Field in England is an unconventional and thought-provoking film that lingers in the mind long after viewing. Its exploration of themes such as madness, survival, and the complexities of human relationships resonates deeply, inviting viewers to reflect on the nature of existence and the thin veneer of civilization. For those who appreciate films like The Lighthouse, this haunting tale of despair and delusion offers a similarly disorienting experience that will leave a lasting impression.

Each film mentioned here contributes to a rich landscape of horror that captures The Lighthouse's emotional intensity and thematic weight, encapsulating the essence of human fears and existential quandaries. For those mesmerized by The Lighthouse, these recommendations offer an opportunity to delve deeper into the eerie boundaries separating sanity from madness. These films transcend mere viewing; they leave an indelible mark, resonating within the mind and soul—achieving haunting narrative brilliance long after the final scenes fade to black.