Best Horror Comedies of 1983
- HaHa Jokester
- May 24
- 10 min read
Updated: Jun 20
1983 was a weird, wild year for horror comedy—a year when genre boundaries blurred and filmmakers got bolder with their tone, fusing gore and giggles in unpredictable ways. While the slasher boom continued and creature features evolved, a handful of films chose to make audiences laugh while they screamed. It wasn’t about subtle satire or polished parody—it was about camp, chaos, and the strange alchemy of blood and punchlines.
This was the year that cemented horror-comedy’s ability to thrive not just as spoof, but as a genre where absurdity, violence, and self-awareness could co-exist in gloriously messy harmony.
The Horror Comedy Landscape in 1983
Post-Slasher Saturation Sets In
Audiences were growing tired of the formulaic masked killer, and horror comedies gave them something unexpected—twists, pratfalls, and irony. Instead of running from the tropes, these films laughed at them.
Embracing Absurdity
Many of 1983’s horror comedies leaned into surrealism and low-budget oddity, turning haunted houses, talking heads, and grotesque body horror into laugh-out-loud spectacles.
International & Indie Mischief
Some of the year's most memorable horror comedies didn’t come from big studios. They came from small-scale productions with big imaginations—and a willingness to be weird.
Top 10 Horror Comedies of 1983
House of the Long Shadows
Runtime: 1hr 41min
Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, and John Carradine headline this meta-horror comedy that both honors and mocks Gothic tropes.
House of the Long Shadows (1983) is a Gothic horror comedy that brings together four legendary horror icons—Vincent Price, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, and John Carradine—for a delightfully old-fashioned haunted house tale laced with dry wit and theatrical charm. Directed by Pete Walker, the film follows an American writer who retreats to a remote Welsh mansion to write a novel, only to discover the house is inhabited by a mysterious, eccentric family with dark secrets. As the night unfolds with twists, confessions, and cleverly staged murders, the film blends Agatha Christie-style mystery with Hammer horror homage. Though intentionally campy and dialogue-heavy, the film’s true joy lies in watching horror royalty share the screen, delivering scenery-chewing performances in a loving send-up of the genre’s golden age.
The Hunger
Runtime: 1hr 37min
More sensual and artsy than overtly comedic, The Hunger's high-camp tone, surrealism, and vampiric melodrama give it an accidental dark comedy vibe.
The Hunger (1983), directed by Tony Scott, is a stylized, atmospheric blend of vampire horror and erotic drama that oozes early ’80s decadence and high fashion. The film stars Catherine Deneuve as a centuries-old vampire, David Bowie as her rapidly aging lover, and Susan Sarandon as the scientist caught between them. With its moody lighting, dreamlike editing, and gothic-meets-new-wave aesthetic, The Hunger trades conventional scares for existential melancholy and sexual tension. Though often played straight, its high-camp tone, surreal sequences, and theatrical performances have given it cult status as a horror film that’s as emotionally charged as it is visually seductive—making it a quintessential example of arthouse horror with a darkly comedic, melodramatic edge.
Sleepaway Camp
Runtime: 1hr 28min
Marketed as a straight slasher, the film’s awkward performances, bizarre dialogue, and jaw-dropping finale have made it a cult horror-comedy in hindsight.
Sleepaway Camp (1983), directed by Robert Hiltzik, is a slasher film that blends conventional horror tropes with bizarre characters, off-kilter humor, and one of the most infamous twist endings in horror history. Set at a summer camp plagued by a string of brutal murders, the story follows shy, traumatized Angela as she navigates bullying, awkward teen dynamics, and increasing bloodshed. While marketed as a straightforward slasher, the film's stilted dialogue, campy performances, and strange tonal shifts make it feel like unintentional horror comedy at times. Its blend of genuine suspense, absurd moments, and shocking final reveal have earned Sleepaway Camp a devoted cult following and solidified its place as one of the most memorable—and uniquely weird—entries in 1980s horror.
Mausoleum
Runtime: 1hr 36min
A woman is possessed by a demonic force inherited through her bloodline, but the absurd effects and over-the-top seriousness make it unintentionally hilarious.
Mausoleum (1983), directed by Michael Dugan, is a supernatural horror film that delivers outrageous demonic possession with a straight face, resulting in a gloriously over-the-top experience that borders on unintentional comedy. The story follows Susan, a woman who becomes possessed by an ancient family curse linked to a haunted mausoleum, unleashing deadly psychic powers and gruesome deaths. While the film plays its premise seriously—with eerie music, glowing green eyes, and moments of melodrama—the low-budget effects, wild tonal shifts, and increasingly absurd scenarios give it a surreal, campy charm. With its blend of ’80s sleaze, gory set pieces, and demonic theatrics, Mausoleum has earned cult status as a prime example of horror that's so sincere in its delivery, it becomes accidentally hilarious—and thoroughly entertaining.
Strange Invaders
Runtime: 1hr 34min
This loving throwback to '50s alien-invasion films walks a fine line between homage and campy parody, leaning heavily on nostalgia and dry humor.
Strange Invaders (1983), directed by Michael Laughlin, is a nostalgic, sci-fi horror comedy that affectionately spoofs the alien invasion films of the 1950s while adding its own quirky twists. The story follows a Columbia University professor who travels to a small Midwestern town in search of his missing ex-wife, only to uncover a bizarre conspiracy involving shape-shifting aliens and eerie townsfolk frozen in time. With retro-futuristic visuals, pulpy effects, and deadpan performances, the film balances genuine homage with wry humor and a touch of surrealism. While not laugh-out-loud funny, Strange Invaders delivers its genre references and oddities with a wink, making it a charmingly offbeat tribute to Cold War-era sci-fi and a cult gem for fans of horror-infused pastiche.
Bloodbath at the House of Death
Runtime: 1hr 31min
A full-on horror spoof featuring Vincent Price, mixing supernatural nonsense with British sketch-comedy energy and zany gags.
Bloodbath at the House of Death (1984, UK release), directed by Ray Cameron, is a gleefully absurd horror spoof that throws every haunted house cliché into a blender of British sketch-comedy madness. Starring comedian Kenny Everett alongside horror legend Vincent Price, the film follows a team of scientists investigating paranormal activity at a mansion where a mass murder once occurred—only to face satanic cults, radioactive monks, and a barrage of ridiculous gags. With its slapstick humor, pun-filled dialogue, and chaotic tone, the film plays like a horror version of Airplane!, embracing parody over plot. While deeply uneven and deliberately silly, Bloodbath at the House of Death has developed cult appeal for its irreverent approach and for giving Price one of his most delightfully tongue-in-cheek performances.
The Deadly Spawn
Runtime: 1hr 21min
While mostly serious in tone, the film’s rubbery aliens, over-the-top gore, and lo-fi charm make it a laughably lovable monster mash.
The Deadly Spawn (1983), directed by Douglas McKeown, is a scrappy, low-budget creature feature that blends gruesome horror with an undercurrent of campy fun. The film centers on a group of teens and family members who must fend off a ravenous alien lifeform that crash-lands in a rural basement and begins multiplying, devouring anyone in its path. With its grotesque practical effects, rubbery monsters, and gleefully gory kills, the film delivers genuine thrills despite its modest resources. Though it plays much of its horror straight, the over-the-top effects, melodramatic acting, and sheer absurdity of the scenario give it a pulpy, unintentional humor that’s helped it earn cult status. The Deadly Spawn is a love letter to ‘50s monster movies—equal parts splatter and schlock, with just enough charm to make it unforgettable.
Mortuary
Runtime: 1hr 33min
A brooding slasher with campy melodrama, exaggerated performances, and Bill Paxton chewing scenery in his early horror debut.
Mortuary (1983), directed by Howard Avedis, is a moody slasher-meets-supernatural horror film that blends melodrama, mystery, and unintentional camp into a uniquely off-kilter experience. The story follows a teenage girl who begins to suspect that her father's death wasn't an accident, uncovering strange happenings at the local mortuary—run by a creepy embalmer and his oddball son, played with eerie intensity by a young Bill Paxton. While marketed as a straight horror-thriller, the film's soap-operatic tone, exaggerated performances, and surreal dream sequences give it a quirky, almost comedic edge. Its combination of occult rituals, psychotic breakdowns, and disco-accompanied chase scenes make Mortuary a bizarre, atmospheric curio that has since earned a cult following for its blend of gothic flair and early-'80s weirdness.
City of the Living Dead (US release)
Runtime: 1hr 33min
Lucio Fulci’s gore-drenched absurdity was still hitting American audiences in 1983—and often received as much laughter as it did fear.
City of the Living Dead (1980, U.S. release widely circulated in 1983), directed by Italian horror maestro Lucio Fulci, is a nightmarish blend of supernatural horror and gory surrealism that teeters into unintentional comedy due to its over-the-top effects and bizarre logic. The film follows a journalist and a psychic as they attempt to prevent the gates of Hell—literally—from opening after a priest's suicide triggers a wave of undead terror in a cursed New England town. Known for its shocking gore (including a notorious scene involving a woman vomiting her own intestines), disjointed narrative, and dreamlike atmosphere, the film delivers a relentless barrage of horror that’s more about mood than coherence. While intended as a serious descent into apocalyptic dread, City of the Living Dead’s outrageous set pieces, wooden dubbing, and strange pacing often result in uneasy laughter, cementing its status as a cult classic in the realm of stylish, gore-soaked absurdity.
The Man Who Wasn’t There
Runtime: 1hr 51min
A man turns invisible in this horror-adjacent sci-fi comedy, playing more like slapstick espionage than real terror—but with just enough genre DNA to count.
The Man Who Wasn’t There (1983), directed by Bruce Malmuth, is a sci-fi horror comedy that leans heavily into slapstick and spy parody, centering on a man who becomes invisible after a government experiment gone wrong. Starring Steve Guttenberg as a bumbling government employee turned accidental secret agent, the film takes a lighthearted approach to invisibility tropes, playing them for broad laughs rather than suspense. With its mix of chase scenes, sight gags, and Cold War-era espionage satire, the movie feels more like a zany caper than a true horror entry, though it flirts with genre elements through mad science and shadowy villains. While not critically acclaimed, The Man Who Wasn’t There offers a quirky, PG-rated take on invisibility with enough goofy charm and dated visual effects to make it a nostalgic curiosity for fans of early '80s genre mashups.
Underrated Picks Worth Your Time
Frankenstein’s Great Aunt Tillie
Runtime: 1hr 40min
A ridiculous comedy that blends family-friendly vibes with classic monster imagery in the goofiest way possible.
Frankenstein’s Great Aunt Tillie (1984, but often associated with the early ’80s horror comedy wave), directed by Myron J. Gold, is a whimsical and eccentric blend of Gothic horror tropes, slapstick humor, and farcical family drama. The film follows the descendants of Baron Frankenstein as they return to the family castle to claim their inheritance—only to encounter a ghostly Aunt Tillie and a plot to revive the original monster. Featuring Donald Pleasence and Yvonne Furneaux, the movie is packed with exaggerated performances, silly dialogue, and haunted-house hijinks that lean heavily into camp. While it lacks the bite of sharper parodies, Frankenstein’s Great Aunt Tillie embraces its own absurdity, delivering a quirky, kid-friendly spin on classic horror lore that feels more like a stage comedy than a fright fest. It’s a deep-cut cult curiosity for those who enjoy their monsters goofy and their ghouls giggling.
Scalps
Runtime: 1hr 22min
Intended as a serious supernatural slasher, but the low-budget effects and strange pacing give it accidental comedy appeal.
Scalps (1983), directed by Fred Olen Ray, is a gritty, micro-budget horror film that attempts to merge slasher tropes with Native American supernatural themes, resulting in a bizarre, often unintentionally humorous ride. The plot follows a group of archaeology students who defy warnings and begin digging on sacred land—unleashing the vengeful spirit of a Native American shaman who begins picking them off one by one. Though the film aims for scares with its grim tone and graphic gore, the stiff acting, erratic pacing, and wildly inconsistent effects often veer into camp territory. With its combination of exploitation elements, supernatural possession, and over-the-top violence, Scalps has become a cult oddity—remembered less for its scares and more for its raw, DIY energy and the accidental comedy that comes from its deadly seriousness.
Microwave Massacre
Runtime: 1hr 16min
A film so bizarre and tonally off, it functions better as a parody than a grindhouse horror flick.
Microwave Massacre (1983), directed by Wayne Berwick, is a trashy, tongue-in-cheek horror comedy that proudly embraces bad taste, lowbrow humor, and outrageous absurdity. The film stars stand-up comic Jackie Vernon as Donald, a grumpy construction worker who snaps under the weight of his nagging wife and bland microwave dinners—only to discover that human flesh tastes better and is much more satisfying to prepare. What follows is a spree of cannibalistic cooking, bad one-liners, and crude sight gags, all delivered with intentionally stilted performances and bargain-bin production values. While it was critically panned on release, Microwave Massacre has since become a cult favorite for its gleefully offensive tone, campy charm, and sheer commitment to being as ridiculous as possible. It’s a perfect example of horror-comedy so unrefined it circles back to being weirdly unforgettable.
Horror Highlights & Trivia
Vincent Price, Still King: In both House of the Long Shadows and Bloodbath at the House of Death, Price proves he could still steal scenes—even when poking fun at his own legacy.
Parody Picks Up Steam: 1983 laid the groundwork for horror spoofs like Saturday the 14th Strikes Back and Wacko to continue thriving.
Gore Gets Goofy: With The Deadly Spawn and Mausoleum, practical effects got so over-the-top they became laugh lines in themselves.
Where to Watch These Today
Streaming Platforms:
Sleepaway Camp – Tubi, Shudder
The Deadly Spawn – Amazon Prime
House of the Long Shadows – YouTube (rental)
Microwave Massacre – Arrow Player
Bloodbath at the House of Death – Rare DVD/Blu-ray releases
Physical Media Collectors Should Check:Vinegar Syndrome, Severin Films, and Arrow Video, which specialize in restoring oddball cult horror from the ’80s.
Closing Thoughts
1983 was a strange but pivotal year for horror comedy. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t mainstream. But it was bold. The year leaned into weirdness, embraced genre hybridity, and helped solidify horror comedy as a space where filmmakers could get experimental—even unhinged. Whether you’re in it for the unintentional laughs or the gleeful parody, the horror comedies of 1983 remind us that terror and laughter often come from the same wild place. And sometimes, the best scares are the ones that make you laugh a little too hard.
