From the mysterious mansion in The Others to the eerie, English estate featured in Crimson Peak, film history would have you believe that the spookiest things happen in an old, sometimes-dilapitated home. In fact, a lone Victorian or gothic residence perched on a hill is as common of a movie trope as a young child who sees ghosts or a murderous maniac menacing a small town.
“Those homes gave us the original Gothic drama,” says Sara Malek Barney of BANDD/DESIGN in Los Angeles. “Ornate architecture, layered textures, and that sense of history oozing from every corner made the idea of ghosts of the past haunting their corridors very plausible.” And when paired with dimmed lights and creak floorboards? You had the making of a spine-tingling setting.
Well, until now, that is.
Lately, we’ve been seeing a shift in what constitutes a haunted house. Recent films like The Invisible Man and The Menu are finding the fight in—gasp—modernist design.
“These days, the ‘haunted’ aesthetic has shifted from spooky mansions to sleek, minimalist architecture like brutalist concrete boxes, glass walls, and eerie, over-the-top symmetry,” Barney says. “The kind of house that’s so clean and quiet it gives you chills.”
Take The Invisible Man, for example. The 2020 thriller traded in the typical, old-fashioned mansion in favor of the Headland House, a modernist property that’s actually located in Australia.
When it comes to scary movies, the Atelier Andy Carson-designed crib diverges from the norm. Here, boxy volumes are connected with glass corridors. Instead of concealing its secrets, this property puts them on full display.
Of course, The Invisible Man isn’t the only movie straying from the old house on the hill. AfrAId is set in a contemporary home decked out in the latest tech. Meanwhile, culinary chiller The Menu is housed in a fictional restaurant packed with Brutalist influences. Even the first installment of the M3gan franchise was filmed in a single-storied ranch with interiors that look like something out of a West Elm catalogue.
The common denominator: They’re modern, not majestic. Sleek, not swathed in carved wooden accents and ornate accessories. “Instead of haunts of the past, it’s the absence of warmth that gets under your skin,” Barney notes.
So what gives? What’s up with the new-and-improved haunted home? If you ask Barney, the design shift is a sign of the times. “The old haunted homes played on superstition and decay and today’s versions tap into modern anxieties like isolation and perfection,” Barney says. “It’s less cobwebs, more control issues.”
Subject matter also plays a role: As more films weave robots, artificial intelligence, and high-tech advancements into their plotlines, older builds no longer fit. A technological takeover in a 19th-century Victorian might be unnerving, but that same story will be terrifying in a futuristic residence.
Perhaps the scariest thing about the shift of haunted homes? Now, these spaces feel so real. The interior design industry might have a soft spot for traditional decor, but modern design isn’t going anywhere. In fact, many people live in contemporary homes. So if something sinister could happen in a chill crib in the Hollywood Hills a la The Invitation, couldn’t it happen to you? Cue the goosebumps.