20 Best Movies Like They Look Like People

In the world of psychological horror, They Look Like People (2015) emerges as a striking examination of mental illness, identity, and the delicate line between reality and delusion. Through the experiences of its protagonist, Wyatt, the film transports viewers into a disquieting realm where paranoia and existential dread reign. For those captivated by its unsettling narrative and emotional resonance, we present several films that echo similar themes of fear, identity crises, and the profound tension found within the psychological thriller genre.

The films we’ve selected are united by foundational themes such as the struggle between reality and delusion, the effects of mental health on relationships, and the almost palpable suspense that permeates psychological narratives. Each film presents characters battling their inner demons, culminating in significant twists that compel viewers to reassess their understanding of reality. Like They Look Like People, these movies invite audiences to navigate the profound fear and uncertainty that lurk within the human psyche.

20 Best Movies Like They Look Like People

1. The Invitation (2015)

Set against the backdrop of a beautiful but eerie home in the Hollywood Hills, The Invitation unravels during a dinner party hosted by a couple, Eden and David. What begins as a seemingly mundane gathering among friends soon takes a sinister turn as the guests must confront deeply buried secrets and unsettling revelations from their pasts.

As the evening progresses, a pervasive atmosphere of tension transforms the gathering into a psychological minefield. The film masterfully explores themes of paranoia and betrayal, reflecting the fragility of human connections. Through subtle yet powerful dialogues, the guests grapple with past grievances and unspoken tensions, mirroring Wyatt’s escalating dread in They Look Like People. The feeling that something is inherently “off” permeates every interaction, leaving viewers on edge.

The emotional stakes are amplified by the film’s deliberate pacing and cleverly crafted suspense. For example, the conversation about a "cult" that Eden and David have become involved with introduces a creeping sense of foreboding. This, coupled with the guests’ increasing discomfort, serves to heighten the viewer's anxiety. As the night unfolds, the palpable angst culminates in a heart-pounding climax that forces the characters—and the audience—to confront their darkest fears. The film’s closing moments deliver a brutal emotional punch, reminiscent of Wyatt’s own internal battles, as viewers are left to reflect on the true meaning of trust and the fragility of relationships.

The Invitation employs effective cinematography and sound design to enhance its psychological horror. Shadows loom large on the walls, and close-up shots of characters’ faces reveal subtle nuances in their expressions, heightening the sense of unease. The use of silence, interrupted only by the sound of a ticking clock or whispered conversations, creates an unsettling atmosphere that mirrors the characters' growing paranoia.

By intertwining these elements with a haunting score and striking visuals, The Invitation crafts a visceral experience that lingers long after the credits roll. Just as They Look Like People invites viewers to delve into the mind of a troubled protagonist, The Invitation pulls you into a web of suspense and emotional complexity, making it a must-watch for fans of psychological horror.

2. Horse Girl (2020)

Horse Girl centers on Sarah, portrayed by Alison Brie, a socially awkward and introverted woman with a profound love for horses and a mysterious connection to the equestrian world. Living in a quiet suburban setting, Sarah’s life begins to unravel as she experiences vivid dreams and disturbing hallucinations. The film invites viewers into her troubled psyche, blurring the lines between fantasy and reality.

This film deftly examines themes of mental health, isolation, and the struggle for identity, much like They Look Like People. As Sarah grapples with her increasingly vivid dreams—where she often finds herself in surreal and unsettling situations—the audience is drawn into her internal conflict. The narrative explores the impact of familial history on individual mental health, as Sarah learns about her mother's struggles with psychosis, adding layers of complexity to her own journey. This generational connection to mental illness resonates deeply, prompting viewers to consider how inherited fears can shape one’s reality.

As Sarah's grip on reality diminishes, the film effectively elicits feelings of empathy and concern among the audience. Scenes depicting her interactions with friends and coworkers further emphasize her isolation and the disconnection she feels from the world around her. The emotional weight of Sarah’s situation intensifies during a poignant scene where she confides in her co-worker about her dreams, highlighting her desperation for understanding and connection. Her longing for companionship amidst chaos mirrors Wyatt’s own struggle with isolation and fear in They Look Like People.

Director Jeff Baena employs striking visual storytelling to amplify the film's psychological tension. The transitions from Sarah’s mundane reality to her dream sequences are seamlessly executed, with visually stunning and surreal imagery that captivates and unnerves. The use of close-up shots captures Sarah’s emotional turmoil as her expressions shift from confusion to terror. Moreover, the haunting score adds to the film’s unsettling atmosphere, echoing Sarah's spiraling mental state and immersing viewers in her experiences.

Horse Girl is not just a film about mental illness; it serves as a poignant reflection on the search for self amidst confusion and fear. Its exploration of identity, particularly in the face of familial legacy and the complexities of mental health, makes it an essential watch. Much like They Look Like People, this film compels viewers to confront their perceptions of reality, leaving them to ponder the fine line between sanity and madness long after the screen fades to black.

3. Possum (2018)

Possum intricately weaves a chilling tale centered around Philip, a troubled puppeteer who returns to his childhood home, burdened by the shadows of his past. The film, written and directed by Matthew Holness, plunges into a deeply unsettling exploration of trauma, guilt, and repression, as Philip grapples with dark memories and a grotesque puppet that embodies his inner demons.

At its core, Possum delves into the complexities of mental health and the haunting nature of unresolved trauma. As the story unfolds, Philip's puppet—a grotesque, nightmarish creature—serves as a potent representation of his inner turmoil and fears. This personification of his anxiety evokes a sense of dread similar to the paranoia experienced by Wyatt in They Look Like People. Furthermore, the film explores themes of childhood trauma and its lasting effects, with Philip’s memories blurring the lines between past and present, reminding viewers of how deeply ingrained fears can manifest physically and psychologically.

The emotional resonance of Possum is palpable, as Philip navigates a world interwoven with fear and despair. The film is marked by haunting visuals and sparse dialogue, creating a suffocating atmosphere that draws viewers into Philip's troubled mind. One particularly harrowing scene involves Philip's confrontation with his puppet, where he struggles to exert control over this creation that symbolizes his worst fears. This moment encapsulates the film's exploration of the internal battle with one's demons, provoking empathy and unease. Just as Wyatt's journey evokes sympathy amidst his paranoia, Philip's plight resonates on an emotional level that lingers long after the film concludes.

Possum employs striking cinematography and sound design to magnify its psychological horror. The film makes effective use of dim lighting and close-up shots, which accentuate Philip's expressions of fear and anxiety, immersing viewers in his psychological state. The unsettling soundscape, filled with eerie whispers and muffled noises, mirrors the chaos within Philip's mind, enhancing the film's haunting quality. Additionally, the puppet itself, with its disconcerting appearance and lifelike movements, serves as a physical manifestation of Philip’s fears, ultimately reflecting the psychological horrors that many people face internally.

Possum is a haunting exploration of trauma and mental illness that resonates deeply with audiences. Its unsettling atmosphere and intricate storytelling encourage viewers to confront the complexities of their own fears and emotional struggles. Through its profound themes and impactful visuals, the film stands as a powerful companion piece to They Look Like People, inviting audiences into a shared journey through the dark corridors of the mind.

4. The Mothman Prophecies (2002)

Based on the true events detailed in John Keel's book, The Mothman Prophecies follows journalist John Klein, played by Richard Gere, as he investigates a series of bizarre occurrences in the small town of Point Pleasant, West Virginia. After experiencing a personal tragedy, Klein becomes embroiled in the town's mysterious sightings of a winged creature known as the Mothman, a harbinger of doom that may be linked to impending disaster.

This film adeptly explores themes of paranoia, the search for truth, and the impact of grief on one’s perception of reality. As Klein delves deeper into the strange occurrences, he encounters a range of unsettling phenomena, from precognitive dreams to unexplained disappearances. The overarching sense of foreboding resonates with the existential dread experienced by Wyatt in They Look Like People, as both protagonists face a reality that continuously challenges their understanding of what is real. Furthermore, the film raises poignant questions about how trauma can alter one's perception, despite the heart-wrenching personal loss that continually drives Klein.

The Mothman Prophecies is marked by a profound emotional weight, largely stemming from Klein's internal struggle to navigate his grief while unraveling the mysterious threads of the Mothman legend. A particularly striking scene occurs when Klein meets with local residents who share their own harrowing experiences, intensifying the film's overall sense of unease. Each encounter reinforces the pervasive atmosphere of dread, compelling the audience to ponder the fine line between reality and the supernatural. This emotional depth enriches the narrative, making it resonate strongly with viewers, much like Wyatt’s journey toward understanding his own mental landscape.

The film utilizes a moody color palette and atmospheric sound design to create an unsettling ambiance. Director Mark Pellington employs techniques such as tight framing and disorienting camera angles to immerse viewers in Klein’s turbulent experience and elevate the anxiety surrounding the unfolding events. The ominous score punctuates critical moments, heightening suspense and underlining the film's themes of uncertainty and fear. Notably, the fleeting appearances of the Mothman, shrouded in shadows and enhanced by chilling sound effects, conjure a sense of primal terror, reminiscent of the psychological horror found in They Look Like People.

The Mothman Prophecies stands as a compelling exploration of the unknown, combining elements of psychological thriller and supernatural horror. Its examination of grief, paranoia, and the struggle for understanding parallels the emotional and psychological themes experienced in They Look Like People. Viewers are invited to reflect on their own fears and uncertainties, making this film a fitting recommendation for those captivated by the depths of the human psyche in the face of inexplicable circumstances.

5. Evil Rising (2008)

In Evil Rising, a group of friends embarks on a weekend getaway to a remote cabin, hoping to escape the rigors of everyday life. What begins as a relaxing retreat quickly spirals into a nightmarish ordeal when they inadvertently unleash an ancient evil from the surrounding woods. As supernatural forces begin to torment the group, tensions rise and friendships are tested, leading to a gripping struggle for survival.

This film delves into themes of isolation, the fragility of human relationships, and the terrifying repercussions of past actions. As the friends confront the manifestations of evil, their inner conflicts and unresolved issues come to the forefront, paralleling the psychological breakdown seen in They Look Like People. The characters are forced to confront not only the horror outside but also their personal demons—guilt, betrayal, and fear—adding depth to the narrative. This exploration of how external horrors can amplify existing interpersonal strife enhances the sense of dread and urgency.

Evil Rising masterfully builds an atmosphere of dread, intensified by the characters’ evolving dynamics. Key moments of character development occur as the group grapples with their individual fears and insecurities, forcing them to either rally together or turn against one another. For instance, when tension peaks during a disturbing revelation about one character's past, viewers can feel the electric charge of fear and distrust that permeates the cabin. This poignant exploration of how fear can fracture relationships resonates with the viewer, much like Wyatt's experience in They Look Like People, making the horror feel personal and impactful.

The cinematography in Evil Rising plays a crucial role in amplifying the film's horror elements. Dark, shadowy visuals create an oppressive atmosphere that evokes a sense of claustrophobia, while disorienting camera angles contribute to the feeling that sanity is slipping away. The eerie sound design—featuring unsettling whispers, sudden bangs, and haunting melodies—aligns closely with the characters' escalating paranoia. One particularly effective scene employs a sudden loud noise, followed by a tense silence, allowing viewers to share in the characters’ fear and uncertainty. This technique mirrors the soundscapes in They Look Like People, where seemingly mundane sounds take on a disproportionately menacing quality.

Evil Rising serves as both a supernatural horror story and a psychological exploration of fear and trust. Its themes of isolation and inner turmoil resonate deeply, making it a worthy companion to They Look Like People. As viewers navigate the film’s haunting narrative, they are encouraged to confront their own fears, giving the experience a profound emotional weight that lingers long after it ends.

6. Creep (2014)

Directed by Patrick Brice, Creep introduces us to Aaron, a videographer hired to document the life of a man named Josef, portrayed unsettlingly by Mark Duplass. What begins as a seemingly benign project in a remote mountain cabin quickly turns into a psychological nightmare as Aaron becomes increasingly aware of Josef’s bizarre and menacing behavior. The film unfolds in a found-footage style, enhancing the claustrophobic atmosphere and immersing viewers in the disquieting dynamics of their interactions.

At its core, Creep explores themes of isolation, manipulation, and the darkness lurking beneath ordinary facades. Josef's erratic behavior serves as a disturbing reminder of how easily trust can be exploited, much like the paranoia that permeates Wyatt's experience in They Look Like People. The film probes the question of how well we can truly know another person, blurring the lines between authenticity and deceit. As Aaron finds himself trapped in a chilling game of psychological cat-and-mouse, the narrative compels viewers to confront their own discomfort with trust and vulnerability.

The emotional intensity of Creep rises to fever pitch as viewers witness the slow unraveling of Aaron’s sense of safety. Mark Duplass’s performance as Josef is both charismatic and deeply unsettling, oscillating between endearing and terrifying. In a poignant scene where Josef reveals his existential fears while simultaneously turning the conversation sinister, the viewer is left feeling disoriented, embodying the very essence of dread. This duality echoes Wyatt's struggle with his mental state, as both protagonists navigate their frightening realities, leaving audiences braced for the next chilling moment.

Creep effectively utilizes a minimalist approach to visuals and sound to amplify its horror elements. The decision to employ a found-footage style allows for intimate close-ups that capture unsettling expressions and small gestures, fostering a voyeuristic feeling. The film’s pacing is deliberate, allowing tension to build gradually, while cleverly crafted sound design—including low-frequency rumblings and unsettling silences—encourages an ever-present sense of anticipation. Especially noteworthy are the moments of sudden intensity, such as the climactic confrontation that leaves viewers breathless and questioning everything they have just witnessed.

Creep emerges as a haunting exploration of trust and the unexpected horrors that can lurk within human interactions. Its examination of psychological manipulation and the fragility of safety parallels the complex themes found in They Look Like People. As viewers are drawn into a web of suspense and emotional upheaval, they are left to ponder the unseen forces that shape both identity and relationships, making this film a compelling choice for those intrigued by the darker aspects of the human experience.

7. The Melancholy Fantastic (2011)

The Melancholy Fantastic, directed by the visionary filmmaker David J. Schow, follows the story of a woman named Emily, who finds herself trapped in a dreamlike state as she grapples with the effects of profound loss. With stunning visuals and a surreal narrative, the film immerses viewers in Emily’s journey through her memories and emotions as she confronts her past and battles the demons of grief that haunt her.

This film intricately explores themes of grief, isolation, and the nature of reality, paralleling the psychological struggles faced by characters in They Look Like People. As Emily sifts through her memories, the audience witnesses her struggles with identity, showcasing how past trauma can profoundly shape one’s present. The ethereal quality of her dream-like experiences blurs the lines between memory and reality, prompting viewers to reflect on their own perceptions of loss and longing. This exploration of how grief can distort reality deeply resonates with the emotional depths traversed by Wyatt as he confronts his fears in They Look Like People.

The emotional weight of The Melancholy Fantastic is heightened by the film’s unique narrative structure and striking imagery. Throughout her journey, Emily encounters abstract representations of her feelings, including shadowy figures and fragmented memories that materialize around her. A particularly poignant sequence involves Emily on a beach, where she engages with her past self, creating a haunting dialogue filled with longing and regret. This moment encapsulates the heart-rending essence of the film, as audiences experience Emily’s despair and hope intertwined. Much like Wyatt’s anxious descent into paranoia, Emily's exploration invites viewers to navigate their own vulnerabilities, eliciting both sympathy and reflection.

Visually, The Melancholy Fantastic showcases a breathtaking aesthetic, employing vivid colors and dreamlike cinematography to create an otherworldly atmosphere. The use of slow-motion sequences and ethereal lighting enhances the feeling of being enveloped in a dream, allowing viewers to experience the characters' emotions viscerally. Additionally, the haunting score carefully complements the visual experience, blending orchestral swells with ambient soundscapes that evoke feelings of nostalgia and melancholy. These elements work cohesively to immerse the audience in Emily's complex emotional landscape, intensifying the film’s psychological themes.

The Melancholy Fantastic serves as a poignant meditation on loss and the intricacies of the human experience. Its exploration of grief, layered with stunning visuals and emotional depth, makes it a compelling recommendation for fans of psychological narratives. Much like They Look Like People, this film encourages viewers to confront their inner darkness while navigating the fragile boundaries between reality and the haunting shadows of memory.

8. Luz (2018)

In Luz, directed by Tilman Singer, a young cab driver named Luz finds herself ensnared in a haunting and surreal encounter with a supernatural force that manifests during a bizarre exorcism. The film weaves a complex narrative that unfolds through fragmented recollections and eerie sequences, pulling viewers into a world where reality is warped by demonic possession and psychological turmoil.

At its core, Luz explores themes of possession, trauma, and the struggle for identity. The film delves into how past experiences shape one's present reality, as Luz confronts the remnants of her troubled past and the shadowy entity that threatens to consume her. Similar to Wyatt's psychological descent in They Look Like People, Luz's battle is not just against an external force, but against her own fractured psyche. The narrative intricately examines the intersections of memory and reality, challenging viewers to question what is truly happening versus what exists in the characters' minds.

The emotional weight of Luz comes from its ability to tap into primal fears related to loss of control and the unknown. Moments of chilling tension arise during the exorcism scenes, where the atmosphere is thick with dread and uncertainty. As Luz's fragmented memories surface, the audience is drawn into her internal struggle, experiencing her confusion and fear alongside her. A particularly gripping scene occurs when the psychologist attempts to uncover Luz's past, unveiling layers of her trauma while the supernatural presence lurks just beneath the surface. This intense exploration of vulnerability evokes sympathy from viewers, echoing the emotional turmoil displayed by Wyatt.

Luz employs an innovative visual style that enhances its unsettling narrative. The use of striking contrasts in lighting—often alternating between stark shadows and harsh fluorescent lights—creates an uncomfortable environment that reflects the psychological chaos within Luz’s mind. The film's pacing is deliberate, with drawn-out shots that linger on the characters’ expressions, amplifying the suspense and tension. Additionally, the chilling sound design enhances the eerie atmosphere, utilizing unsettling echoes and whispers that underscore the film's supernatural elements. The deliberate choice to present parts of the story in reverse chronology adds to the disorientation, further immersing viewers in Luz's fragmented reality.

Luz stands out as a captivating exploration of horror that delves into the intersections of psychological trauma and supernatural terror. Its unique approach to storytelling, combined with its striking visuals and deeply emotional themes, positions it as a noteworthy companion to They Look Like People. Both films compel audiences to grapple with the complexities of the human mind, inviting them to confront their own fears and uncertainties while navigating unsettling narratives.

9. Saint Maud (2019)

Saint Maud, directed by Rose Glass, follows Maud, a deeply devout nurse who becomes obsessed with saving the soul of her dying patient, Amanda. As Maud’s fervent faith intensifies, she finds herself drawn into a spiraling descent of religious fervor and psychological turmoil. The film masterfully intertwines themes of faith, isolation, and obsession, creating a chilling narrative that keeps viewers on edge.

At its heart, Saint Maud explores the intricacies of faith and the fine line between devotion and fanaticism. Maud’s relationship with Amanda illuminates the tension between salvation and sin, mirroring the emotional and psychological battles faced by characters in They Look Like People. Just as Wyatt grapples with paranoia, Maud fights against her own deteriorating mental state as she becomes increasingly convinced that she must save Amanda’s soul from eternal damnation. The film delves into themes of loneliness and the desperate need for meaning, raising questions about the lengths to which one might go for redemption.

The profound emotional resonance of Saint Maud is palpable throughout Maud’s journey. As her fixation on Amanda grows, the audience is compelled to witness her struggle with self-worth and identity. A particularly chilling moment arises when Maud believes she receives direct messages from God, blurring the lines between divine guidance and her deteriorating mental health. This climactic encounter amplifies the sense of dread, paralleling the internal chaos faced by Wyatt in They Look Like People as both characters wrestle with their fragmented realities.

Saint Maud employs stark visual storytelling to enhance its psychological horror. The film is characterized by intimate close-ups that capture Maud’s nuanced expressions, reflecting her inner turmoil and obsessive fervor. The use of lighting plays a crucial role, often illuminating Maud in ethereal light while casting ominous shadows around her, symbolizing the duality of her faith and her creeping madness. Additionally, the haunting score, punctuated by unsettling soundscapes, reinforces the film’s oppressive atmosphere, drawing viewers deeper into Maud’s spiraling psyche.

Saint Maud emerges as a poignant and thought-provoking exploration of faith, identity, and the human condition. Its unsettling narrative and complex character study make it a powerful recommendation for those intrigued by psychological horror reminiscent of They Look Like People. Both films engage audiences in reflecting on the nature of reality and the fragility of the human mind, inviting viewers to confront their own fears and beliefs through gripping storytelling.

10. Stonehearst Asylum (2014)

Set in the late 19th century, Stonehearst Asylum, directed by Brad Anderson, follows new intern Dr. Edward Newgate, played by Jim Sturgess, who arrives at a remote mental institution to train under the seemingly progressive Dr. Silas Lemuel, portrayed by Ben Kingsley. As Edward navigates the bizarre and disturbing environment of the asylum, he discovers that not everything is as it seems, leading to a shocking revelation about the treatment of patients and the true nature of sanity.

The film deftly explores themes of sanity, madness, and the moral complexities of mental healthcare. It challenges the Victorian-era perception of mental illness by illustrating how societal attitudes towards patients shape their treatment and experiences. Much like They Look Like People, where mental health is a focal point, Stonehearst Asylum delves into what defines sanity and the arbitrary lines society draws between the “normal” and the “insane.” Edward's evolving understanding of his patients—who may hold more wisdom than their doctors—is reminiscent of Wyatt's battle with his own perception of reality, as both characters struggle to navigate their environments filled with uncertainty and fear.

The emotional resonance of Stonehearst Asylum lies in the disturbing duality of its setting. As Edward becomes increasingly involved with the patients, particularly the enigmatic and strong-willed Eliza, played by Kate Beckinsale, the film captivates audiences by blending moments of compassion with the horror of the asylum’s treatment methods. A pivotal scene occurs when the true nature of the asylum is revealed, drastically shifting the audience's understanding of who is truly mad. This moment of revelation creates a profound sense of unease that recalls the tension built in They Look Like People, as both lead characters grapple with an unraveling sense of safety and clarity.

Stonehearst Asylum employs richly detailed production design and cinematography to immerse viewers in its eerie yet beautiful environment. The asylum itself is both a character and a setting, with its grand, decaying architecture mirroring the psychological disarray within its walls. The film expertly utilizes contrasts in lighting—bright, open spaces juxtaposed with dark, claustrophobic corridors—to reflect the characters' inner turmoil. Additionally, the haunting score accentuates the unsettling atmosphere, heightening the tension during pivotal moments. For example, as Edward uncovers the asylum's dark secrets, the music swells to mirror his growing anxiety, pulling viewers deeper into the narrative's twisted psychological landscape.

Stonehearst Asylum is a gripping exploration of morality, sanity, and the complexities of the human mind. Its rich storytelling and psychological depth make it a compelling companion piece to They Look Like People, as both films encourage audiences to question their perceptions of reality and delve into the shadows of the human psyche. Through its engaging narrative and thought-provoking themes, Stonehearst Asylum leverages horror to illuminate the pressing issues surrounding mental health and societal norms, making it a must-watch for fans of psychological drama.

11. Session 9 (2001)

Session 9, directed by Brad Anderson, unfolds within the eerie confines of an abandoned mental asylum in Massachusetts, where an asbestos removal team finds themselves trapped in a landscape of decay and psychological distress. The film follows the workers as they unravel not only the physical dangers of their task but also the darker history of the asylum and its former patients. As the team conducts their work, tensions rise, leading to unsettling discoveries that threaten their sanity.

The film delves into themes of mental illness, isolation, and the corrosive nature of guilt. It intricately examines how the past can haunt the present, particularly through the lens of trauma experienced by both the asylum's former patients and the workers themselves. Much like They Look Like People, where mental health plays a central role in the protagonist’s struggle, Session 9 invites viewers to confront the psychological ramifications of unresolved guilt and the ways in which it can manifest in terrifying forms. A central subplot involves the team’s discussions surrounding their personal lives and regrets, paralleling themes of existential dread seen in Wyatt's journey.

The emotional core of Session 9 lies in its exploration of character vulnerabilities and the psychological impact of the asylum's haunted history. As the film progresses, individual tensions escalate—particularly with the character of Gordon, played by Peter Mullan, who grapples with intense feelings of guilt stemming from his past. A pivotal moment occurs during a chilling session in which the team listens to recorded interviews with a patient suffering from dissociative identity disorder. This moment blurs the lines between the past and present, as it becomes evident that the shadows of the asylum may not be confined to its walls. This sense of pervasive dread and guilt resonates strongly with the emotional struggles of Wyatt and creates an intense atmosphere of psychological horror.

Session 9 masterfully employs a minimalist approach to visuals that enhances its oppressive atmosphere. The dilapidated asylum serves as a haunting backdrop, with desaturated colors and haunting architecture that reflect the characters' inner turmoil. The use of long, static shots captures the suspenseful stillness of the environment, amplifying the growing tension among the team. Additionally, the sound design plays a crucial role, incorporating unsettling ambient noises and whispers that echo through the corridors, contributing to the film’s eerie ambiance. Notably, the gradual buildup of auditory elements, combined with sudden silence, evokes a palpable sense of anxiety, immersing viewers in the psychological horror of the unfolding story.

Session 9 stands out as a compelling exploration of guilt, trauma, and the haunting nature of mental illness. Its richly layered narrative and psychological depth align it as a fitting companion to They Look Like People, as both films encourage the audience to confront their own fears and the shadows lurking in the human mind. Through its unsettling atmosphere and profound themes, Session 9 leaves a lingering impact, inviting viewers to reflect on the fragile boundaries between sanity and madness.

12. Chasing Sleep (2000)

Chasing Sleep, directed by Michael Caissie, follows the story of a college professor named Ed Sleep, played by the talented Jeff Daniels, who faces an intense personal crisis when his wife goes missing. As Ed grapples with the overwhelming pressure of her disappearance and the unraveling of his grip on reality, the film immerses viewers in a haunting exploration of grief, isolation, and the terrors of sleep deprivation.

At its core, Chasing Sleep delves deeply into themes of mental deterioration, the fragility of perception, and the emotional toll of loss. Similar to Wyatt's experience in They Look Like People, Ed becomes ensnared in his own mind, battling not only the external uncertainties surrounding his wife's fate but also the increasingly fragile state of his mental health. The film poignantly illustrates how the stresses of unmet expectations and unprocessed grief can lead to delusions and paranoia, prompting viewers to reflect on how loss can distort one’s reality.

The emotional depth of Chasing Sleep is palpable as Ed descends into a spiral of anxiety and confusion. Jeff Daniels delivers a compelling performance that evokes a mix of sympathy and concern, as he conveys the anguish and desperation of a man searching for answers while losing his grip on sanity. A particularly affecting moment unfolds when Ed experiences sleepless nights filled with harrowing visions, blurring the lines between reality and nightmare. His mounting dread and sense of helplessness capture the raw essence of emotional struggle, much like the internal battles faced by Wyatt in They Look Like People. The film’s atmosphere effectively immerses viewers in Ed's turmoil, leaving them feeling the weight of his despair.

Cinematically, Chasing Sleep employs a muted color palette that enhances the film's somber tone, reflecting Ed's emotional state as he navigates the uncertainty of his life. The use of claustrophobic framing amplifies feelings of entrapment, symbolizing Ed’s mental confinement as he grapples with his fears. Additionally, the sound design incorporates unsettling auditory cues—such as intrusive whispers and eerie echoes—that heighten the sense of disorientation. These elements combine to create a palpable tension that mirrors Ed's internal chaos and mental decline.

Chasing Sleep presents a compelling narrative that intricately examines the psychological effects of trauma and loss. Its exploration of fear and uncertainty resonates deeply, making it a fitting companion to They Look Like People. Both films invite audiences to confront their own vulnerabilities while navigating the often-turbulent waters of the human mind. Through its rich storytelling and emotional intensity, Chasing Sleep serves as a haunting reminder of the fragile nature of reality, leaving viewers captivated and reflective long after the credits roll.

13. Dream House (2011)

Dream House, directed by Jim Sheridan, follows Will Atenton, played by Daniel Craig, who relocates with his family to a charming New England home, hoping to start anew. Unbeknownst to Will, the idyllic house is steeped in a tragic past involving a brutal murder case, which rapidly spirals his life into a disturbing mystery as he begins to uncover the dark secrets that haunt the property.

The film intricately explores themes of trauma, memory, and the quest for truth. As Will grapples with the mysterious past of his new home, he finds himself deeply enmeshed in the psychological implications of the trauma that once transpired there. This theme of confronting dark realities echoes the psychological struggles faced by characters like Wyatt in They Look Like People. Both films examine how buried traumas manifest in the present, forcing characters to confront their perceptions of reality and the psychological aftermath of violence. The film engages viewers in a meditation on how one's environment can act as a catalyst for psychological unraveling.

Dream House generates a palpable sense of unease as Will uncovers the haunting history of his home. The emotional core of the film lies in Will's desperate search for answers, coupled with his desire to protect his family from the encroaching darkness. A particularly striking moment unfolds when Will speaks with a neighbor, who provides chilling insights into the previous occupants of the house, sending him spiraling deeper into paranoia and fear. The tension mounts as Will's own grip on reality begins to fray, paralleling Wyatt’s turmoil and making viewers question the reliability of their protagonist. This emotional depth resonates with audiences, evoking sympathy for Will as he navigates the labyrinth of his own mind.

Visually, Dream House employs a striking contrast between the film’s warm, inviting visuals and the cold, unsettling undercurrents that permeate its narrative. The cinematography effectively highlights the beauty of the New England setting while simultaneously drawing attention to the eeriness of the house, creating a dissonance that heightens the tension. Meanwhile, the film's sound design employs haunting echoes and unsettling silence to amplify the tension as Will explores dark corners of both his home and his psyche. The slow build-up towards the film's climactic revelations keeps viewers on edge, intensifying their emotional investment in Will's journey.

Dream House serves as a compelling exploration of trauma and the relentless pursuit of truth, making it a thought-provoking recommendation for fans of psychological horror. Like They Look Like People, this film encourages viewers to confront their fears and uncertainties about the past and how it shapes their present reality. Through its engaging narrative and emotional depth, Dream House provides a chilling and immersive experience that lingers long after the final scene, inviting contemplation of the boundaries between memory, reality, and psychological instability.

14. A Tale of Two Sisters (2003)

Directed by Kim Ji-woon, A Tale of Two Sisters is a haunting psychological horror film that weaves a complex narrative around two sisters, Su-mi and Su-yeon, who return home from a mental institution to find their family life deeply disrupted. Living with their strict stepmother and grappling with the trauma of their past, the sisters soon discover dark secrets hidden within their home, leading to a gripping blend of suspense and emotional depth.

At its core, A Tale of Two Sisters explores themes of trauma, repression, and the struggle for identity. The film intricately examines the psychological scars left by familial dysfunction and the implications of mental illness. Much like Wyatt's journey in They Look Like People, Su-mi's experience is fraught with paranoia as she attempts to distinguish between reality and the haunting manifestations of her subconscious. The film delves into the complex relationships between family members, ultimately portraying how unresolved grief and trauma can invade one’s sense of self and perception of reality.

The emotional resonance of A Tale of Two Sisters is profound, as viewers witness the sisters’ fraught relationship with their stepmother and the lingering trauma from their mother’s death. A particularly striking scene occurs when Su-mi confronts her stepmother, revealing layers of resentment and vulnerability. This intense confrontation echoes the themes of emotional turmoil found in They Look Like People, allowing audiences to empathize with the characters' struggles. The film’s exploration of fear and the burden of memory creates a sense of overwhelming tension that keeps viewers captivated throughout.

Visually, A Tale of Two Sisters employs stunning cinematography and meticulous attention to detail to create an atmosphere that is both beautiful and unsettling. The use of rich, moody color palettes contrasts with the film’s dark themes, highlighting the duality of the sisters’ idyllic yet sinister home environment. The film also utilizes an intricate sound design, incorporating unsettling whispers, eerie music, and silence to amplify moments of fear and discomfort. The careful layering of sound creates a haunting ambiance that mirrors the psychological experiences of the characters, drawing viewers deeper into their world.

A Tale of Two Sisters stands as a masterful exploration of the complexities of familial relationships and personal trauma. Its psychological depth and emotional weight make it a fitting companion to They Look Like People, as both films invite audiences to confront the shadows of the mind and the impact of past experiences on present reality. Through its compelling narrative and rich visual storytelling, A Tale of Two Sisters immerses viewers in a beautifully crafted yet chilling world, leaving a lasting impression that resonates with themes of isolation and the fragility of the human psyche.

15. Shock Corridor (1963)

Shock Corridor, directed by Samuel Fuller, is a groundbreaking psychological thriller that follows a journalist named Johnny Barrett, played by Peter Breck, who commits himself to a mental institution to investigate the murder of a patient. Posing as a mentally ill inmate, Johnny navigates the treacherous landscape of the asylum, where he encounters a series of colorful and troubled characters whose delusions reveal profound insights into the human condition.

The film explores themes of madness, societal perception of mental illness, and the quest for truth. As Johnny delves deeper into the minds of his fellow patients, it becomes evident that the boundaries between sanity and insanity are perilously thin. This theme resonates with the experiences of characters like Wyatt in They Look Like People, both of whom confront the harsh realities of their environments while grappling with their mental states. Shock Corridor further critiques the societal stigma attached to mental illness, providing a poignant commentary on how society often fails to understand or empathize with those who suffer.

The emotional weight of Shock Corridor is underscored by Johnny's descent into madness as he interacts with the various inmates, each representing different facets of human trauma. A particularly powerful scene occurs during a confrontation between Johnny and one of the patients, who reveals a chilling perspective on reality that forces Johnny to question his own sanity. Through these interactions, the film elicits a mix of empathy and discomfort, as viewers witness the characters' struggles and the darker aspects of the human psyche. This intense emotional exploration mirrors the feelings generated in They Look Like People, where inner turmoil breeds tension and despair.

Visually, Shock Corridor employs striking black-and-white cinematography that creates an oppressive and stark atmosphere, reflecting the bleakness of the asylum environment. Fuller's use of deep focus shots allows for multiple layers of action to unfold within the frame, enhancing the sense of chaos that characterizes the mental institution. The disorienting camera angles further amplify the feeling of confusion and instability, drawing viewers into the disquieting world of Johnny’s reality. Additionally, the film's editing creates a rhythm that heightens suspense, particularly during pivotal moments when Johnny's grip on reality begins to slip. The combination of these stylistic choices contributes to a cinematic experience that is both engaging and unsettling.

Shock Corridor serves as a powerful exploration of the complexities of mental illness and the often tenuous relationship between sanity and societal judgment. Its exploration of deep psychological themes makes it an essential recommendation for fans of psychological narratives, complementing the emotional and thematic depth of They Look Like People. Through its compelling story and striking visual narrative, Shock Corridor challenges audiences to confront their perceptions of reality, mental health, and the human condition, leaving a lasting impact that resonates long after the film concludes.

16. Ouija: Origin of Evil (2016)

Ouija: Origin of Evil, directed by Mike Flanagan, serves as a prequel to the original Ouija film, delving into the origins of the sinister spirit associated with the mystical board game. Set in 1967 Los Angeles, the story follows a widow, Alice Zander, played by Elizabeth Reaser, who conducts séances to support her family. As she incorporates a Ouija board into her charade, the line between the supernatural and manipulative deception blurs, unleashing malevolent forces that consume her family.

The film weaves together themes of grief, manipulation, and the consequences of dabbling in forces beyond comprehension. Alice's desperate desire to maintain her family's financial stability and emotional well-being leads her to invite darkness into their lives, mirroring the psychological struggles seen in films like They Look Like People. Similar to Wyatt’s journey, the characters in Ouija: Origin of Evil navigate their personal traumas against a backdrop of impending horror—heightening the tension as supernatural elements exacerbate their vulnerabilities. The film interrogates the dangers of exploiting one's pain for profit, ultimately leading to catastrophic consequences.

The emotional weight of Ouija: Origin of Evil is profound, as viewers witness the crumbling family dynamics exacerbated by external supernatural forces. Alice's misguided aspirations to connect with the afterlife propel her toward desperate choices, resulting in a chilling atmosphere of tension and unease. A haunting scene unfolds when Alice's youngest daughter, Doris, portrayed by Lulu Wilson, begins communicating with the spirit, resulting in tragic and unsettling occurrences that spiral out of control. The juxtaposition of childhood innocence against the backdrop of horror amplifies the emotional stakes, compelling viewers to empathize with the characters' plight while fearing for their safety. This emotional depth resonates with the internal battles of characters like Wyatt, whose struggles are reflected in the unpredictability of their experiences.

Ouija: Origin of Evil excels in crafting a retro aesthetic that complements its narrative, employing a vintage color palette and style reminiscent of 1960s horror films. The cinematography skillfully utilizes low lighting, shadow play, and tight framing to cultivate a pervasive sense of dread. Flanagan's adept use of space within the family home—an environment that transitions from warmth to suffocating terror—reflects the characters’ psychological deterioration. Moreover, the film’s sound design amplifies its horror; sudden, jarring noises and chilling whispers unsettle viewers and heighten the atmosphere of fear. The clever integration of suspenseful moments and jump scares ensures that the audience remains on edge throughout the film.

Ouija: Origin of Evil serves as a compelling exploration of grief, vulnerability, and the perils of inviting the unknown into one's life. Its exploration of psychological horror, paired with supernatural elements, makes it a worthy recommendation for fans of films like They Look Like People. By intertwining emotional depth with an eerie narrative, Ouija: Origin of Evil engages viewers and invites them to reflect on the consequences of touching the dark corners of the human experience, making for a chilling and thought-provoking cinematic journey.

17. Secret Window (2004)

Secret Window, directed by David Koepp and based on a novella by Stephen King, follows the story of Mort Rainey, played by Johnny Depp, a reclusive writer who retreats to his isolated cabin after undergoing a painful divorce. Mort is soon confronted by a mysterious stranger named John Shooter, portrayed by John Turturro, who accuses him of plagiarism and demands that he acknowledge Shooter's story as his own. As tensions mount, Mort's psychological state begins to unravel, leading to increasingly dire consequences.

The film intricately examines themes of identity, obsession, and the psychological effects of trauma. Mort's character embodies the struggle between creativity and madness, as he grapples with the implications of being accused of stealing another writer’s work. The paranoia and fear that begin to consume Mort reflect the internal conflicts faced by characters like Wyatt in They Look Like People, who also navigate a deteriorating grasp on reality. As Mort's isolation deepens, the film raises profound questions about authenticity and the boundaries of artistic integrity, exploring how deeply personal experiences can manifest as external conflicts with catastrophic results.

The emotional resonance of Secret Window is amplified through Mort’s gradual descent into despair and madness. As he contemplates his fractured identity amidst Shooter's relentless threats, the audience is drawn into his increasing sense of paranoia and vulnerability. A particularly poignant scene occurs when Mort confronts his actions and the implications of his writing, culminating in a climactic showdown with Shooter that lays bare his inner demons. This confrontation not only reveals Mort's psychological turmoil but also serves as a reminder of the consequences of unresolved guilt and betrayal. Much like Wyatt's journey, Mort's struggle elicits a mix of empathy and fear, making viewers deeply invested in his fate.

Secret Window employs rich cinematography and atmospheric sound design to craft a tense environment. The use of shadowy lighting and tight framing enhances the film's sense of claustrophobia, emphasizing Mort's isolation in the woods and his mental decline. The contrasting calm of nature against the turmoil within Mort's mind creates a disconcerting juxtaposition that heightens the film's suspense. Additionally, the haunting score underscores critical moments, building tension and amplifying the mystery surrounding Shooter's intentions. The film expertly balances moments of introspection with striking visual storytelling, ensuring that viewers remain engaged and on edge throughout Mort’s psychological unraveling.

Secret Window serves as a gripping exploration of the intersection between creativity and madness, making it a compelling recommendation for fans of psychological thriller narratives. Its deep psychological themes and emotional complexity align it with They Look Like People, as both films confront the fragility of the human mind when faced with inner and outer horrors. Through its engaging narrative and thought-provoking character study, Secret Window offers a chilling meditation on the nature of truth, identity, and the dark side of artistic expression, compelling viewers to reflect on their own experiences with fear and paranoia.

18. Gothika (2003)

Gothika, directed by Mathieu Kassovitz, stars Halle Berry as Dr. Miranda Grey, a forensic psychiatrist at a mental institution who experiences a shocking transformation when she wakes up as a patient in her own facility, accused of killing her husband. As Miranda struggles to uncover the truth behind her circumstances, she confronts horrifying apparitions and dark secrets that challenge her understanding of reality.

The film intricately weaves themes of trauma, the blurred lines between sanity and insanity, and the haunting legacy of guilt. Miranda's journey reflects a deeper exploration of how psychological and supernatural forces can collide, leading to a disorienting experience that resonates with viewers. Like Wyatt in They Look Like People, Miranda wrestles with her own perceptions as she confronts a past filled with unresolved traumas and inexplicable events. The film raises profound questions about the nature of guilt, redemption, and how mental illness is often misunderstood or mishandled within society.

The emotional core of Gothika is deeply rooted in Miranda’s fight for identity and truth amidst the horror of her situation. As she grapples with terrifying visions and grapples with memories of her husband, viewers are drawn into her harrowing experience. A particularly chilling scene occurs when Miranda is haunted by the spirit of a young girl, pushing her to uncover the unsettling truth behind her death. This emotional connection amplifies the suspense and intensifies the feeling of dread, evoking sympathy for Miranda's plight. Like Wyatt’s escalating paranoia in They Look Like People, Miranda's battle with her own mind effectively immerses audiences in her turmoil.

Gothika employs a range of visual techniques that enhance its psychological horror elements. The moody lighting and atmospheric cinematography create a sense of claustrophobia and unease within the confines of the mental institution. The film effectively uses tight shots and unsettling angles to convey Miranda's disorientation and emotional instability, keeping viewers on edge. Additionally, the sound design plays a pivotal role—oppressive silence is often shattered by sudden, jarring noises that heighten fear at key moments. The haunting musical score complements the visual storytelling, helping to propel the psychological tension and evoke the chilling atmosphere that defines the film.

Gothika serves as a gripping exploration of the mind’s fragility when confronted with trauma and fear of the unknown. Its examination of guilt, identity, and supernatural influences make it a fitting recommendation for fans of psychological narratives like They Look Like People. Through a combination of emotional depth and compelling storytelling, Gothika effectively engages audiences, provoking reflection on the nature of sanity and the terrifying possibilities that lie within the mind. As viewers accompany Miranda on her journey, they are compelled to confront their own fears and the shadows that lurk in the corners of perception, enhancing the film’s lasting impact.

19. I Trapped the Devil (2019)

I Trapped the Devil, directed by Josh Lobo, is a chilling psychological thriller that centers on a man named Steve, played by grappling with his reclusive brother, who believes he has captured the Devil in his basement. The film unfolds during the Christmas season, when Steve's determination to protect his family and unravel the truth leads him to confront the horrifying implications of his brother’s claims.

This film masterfully explores themes of paranoia, belief, and the nature of evil. The dynamic between Steve and his brother, Matt, who insists that he has physically trapped the Devil, raises unsettling questions about sanity and the lengths to which one will go to protect loved ones. Similar to the psychological disarray experienced by Wyatt in They Look Like People, Steve’s journey reflects a descent into confusion and dread, culminating in a crisis of faith in both familial bonds and reality itself. The film compellingly examines how personal traumas––such as grief and loss––can warp perceptions of good and evil, inviting viewers to ponder the very existence of malevolence in their own lives.

The emotional weight of I Trapped the Devil is palpable, capturing the desperation and fear that course through Steve's mind. As he grapples with his brother's increasingly erratic behavior and the unsettling belief that they might be hosting a demonic entity, viewers are drawn into his psychological turmoil. One particularly gripping moment occurs when Steve overhears bizarre and chilling conversations that amplify his sense of dread, forcing him to confront whether maintaining family loyalty has put him and his loved ones in jeopardy. This emotional complexity parallels the escalating tension experienced by Wyatt, drawing viewers into the characters' internal battles while creating an atmosphere fraught with uncertainty and fear.

The film employs a minimalist approach to its cinematography, using dimly lit settings to create an atmosphere of claustrophobia and unease. The stark visuals and deliberate pacing contribute to a growing sense of dread as the characters’ psychological states deteriorate. Tight close-ups on the characters’ faces capture the nuances of their fear and desperation, compelling the audience to connect emotionally with their plight. Additionally, the sound design features unsettling sounds and whispers that linger in the background, heightening tension and enhancing the film’s psychological horror elements. The clever use of silence juxtaposed with sudden auditory jolts amplifies the viewer's anxiety, keeping them engaged in the unfolding mystery.

I Trapped the Devil stands as a haunting exploration of belief, madness, and the nature of evil. Its ability to blend psychological horror with underlying emotional truths makes it a noteworthy recommendation for fans of psychological thrillers like They Look Like People. Through its compelling narrative and character-driven story, the film encourages viewers to confront their fears while navigating the labyrinth of human thought and belief, leaving a lasting impression that resonates with themes of doubt and the dark corners of the psyche.

20. The Innkeepers (2011)

The Innkeepers, directed by Ti West, follows the story of Claire and Luke, the last two employees of the historic and reportedly haunted Yankee Pedlar Inn, which is set to close its doors for good. As they conduct their final shifts, the duo embarks on an investigation into the inn's supernatural history, seeking proof of the ghostly presence known as "Madame Adela." What begins as a lighthearted exploration turns into a chilling confrontation with the inn’s eerie past, revealing the darker secrets that lurk within.

The film intricately weaves themes of fear, the paranormal, and the fragility of belief in the supernatural. Claire and Luke's curiosity about the ghost stories surrounding the inn parallels the internal struggles faced by characters like Wyatt in They Look Like People, who navigate their uncertainties while grappling with psychological turmoil. As the narrative unfolds, The Innkeepers delves into the nature of hauntings—not just those of the supernatural kind, but also the personal hauntings tied to regrets and unresolved issues. This exploration invites viewers to reflect on how past traumas can manifest in the present, influencing one’s perception of reality.

The emotional core of The Innkeepers lies in the blend of humor, friendship, and underlying dread. Claire and Luke's camaraderie provides moments of levity amid the tension, making the eventual escalation into genuine horror all the more impactful. A particularly memorable scene occurs when Claire conducts a séance in an effort to communicate with Madame Adela, only for the experiment to spiral into genuine fear as the entity responds in unsettling ways. These rich character dynamics and the sincerity of their efforts elicit empathy, mirroring Wyatt's journey in They Look Like People, where relationships are tested against a backdrop of fear and uncertainty.

The Innkeepers employs a slow-burn approach to its horror, allowing tension to build gradually through its atmospheric settings and effective use of sound design. The cinematography captures the inn’s charm while simultaneously emphasizing its dank, shadowy corners, creating a perfect environment for the unfolding mystery. West utilizes long takes and wide shots to establish a sense of isolation and claustrophobia, enhancing the feeling that the characters are trapped both physically and emotionally. The sound design plays a crucial role in the film’s suspense, featuring subtle creaks and distant whispers that heighten the atmosphere of dread.

The Innkeepers stands out as a clever blend of character-driven storytelling and supernatural horror, making it a compelling recommendation for fans of psychological narratives like They Look Like People. Through its exploration of friendship, fear, and the unknown, the film invites audiences to confront their anxieties while navigating the labyrinth of both personal and supernatural hauntings. With its emotional depth and genuine performances, The Innkeepers delivers a thoroughly engaging experience that lingers in the mind long after the final credits roll.

Conclusion: These films, much like They Look Like People, immerse viewers in a world rich with psychological complexity, where the nature of reality is persistently questioned, and emotional stakes run high. Each recommendation serves as a mirror reflecting the human condition, encouraging audiences to confront their fears and uncertainties.