The horror genre is a bit like spicy food. Some people are born with naturally high tolerances, and some find the stuff downright intolerable.

For example, my sister either has me pre-watch horror movies or recount the entire plot if she’s curious but has no hope for her nerves, something I’ve done a thousand times gladly, because my tolerance is a bit higher than hers.

Like spicy food, I built up tolerance with horror — though my threshold for spice is admittedly much lower.

The first scary movie I’d ever seen was “Jurassic World” (2015) when I was 11 years old, which I have now seen upwards of 70 times. That is not an exaggeration, and I wish I were kidding. I watched more and more thrillers until I finally reached the horror genre with “The Silence of the Lambs” (1991), and it was a done deal from there — I had officially fallen in love with horror movies.

I came of horror age in a renaissance for the genre, one that hasn’t stopped and isn’t slowing down. Directors like Jordan Peele, Ari Aster and Robert Eggers, and films like “28 Years Later” installations and “Weapons” (2025) keep the genre fresh and exciting. There are names and films yet to come that will continue to reform what it means to frighten the masses.

But horror’s not really about being afraid, despite the name of the genre. Sure, horror movies are meant to scare you, but if that were all, it would be a dead-end genre with no innovation, and that’s certainly not the case.

Horror cinema is about the emotions we tend to shy away from, the kind that we have characterized as unpleasant and unrewarding, and what they can reveal to us in unexpected ways. A good dish isn’t all spice, after all, it’s got depth too.

Nevertheless, those unpleasant emotions can be too great a barrier for some to overcome, including the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences — aka the Oscars.

Despite being seen as one of the most definitive sources of cinema criticism in culture for nearly the past century, the Oscars tend to snub the horror genre specifically, with only seven horror films receiving nominations for Best Picture over 97 ceremonies.

There’s a diverse range of speculation from horror fans like me about why the Academy has always rejected horror. People assume that the performances are just about screaming or looking afraid, or that the genre’s only goal is to get a reaction from people.

But, in a thrilling turn of events, the horror community finally got a win with “Sinners” (2025) breaking the record for the most-nominated movie ever at the Oscars at 16 total nominations. Among these nominations includes Best Picture, marking horror’s eighth entry into the category.

If horror is spicy food, “Sinners” — featuring a slew of USC alums, including director Ryan Coogler and composer Ludwig Göransson — is a dish that hits every part of your palate the right way — but spice is still the star of the show.

The film recounts the schemings of the enterprising and morally ambiguous Smokestack twins trying to support themselves during Jim Crow by setting up a juke joint with old friends and their cousin Sammie, the devil-music-loving son of a preacher. Things take a turn for the worse when a group of vampires sets their sights on the juke joint, and it’s all about surviving the night for the remaining people inside the threshold.

The film is both an allegory and a direct translation of the cultural vampirism perpetuated by white people that spans the history of Black American culture. It’s about how art can both preserve and destroy us and our cultural histories. It’s emotional, it’s powerful, it’s willful — and it’s a horror movie.

“Sinners” is a beautiful example of how horror really serves viewers as a genre. It isn’t just about jump scares and shock value; it’s about exploring what humans do when they’re scared or disturbed, and how those actions can reflect both the best and the worst parts of human nature.

Not only is this film and its music technically gorgeous, but it’s also seeping with emotion and gratitude for the Black people who actually populated the Jim Crow era. It’s more than a horror movie; it’s a tribute to the past, present and future of Black art in the United States.

Frightened, downtrodden people make art, tell stories and create worlds where they’re not frightened, and they share these works with their loved ones. They create cultural histories upon which we currently live and are building for future generations. Frightened people love, and they love through storytelling.

The performances are deeply authentic and impressive, and the screenplay is alchemic. This film isn’t about good people and evil people; it’s about humans suffering from systemic and generational trauma — that’s the real source of horror in the film, and that’s what makes it all the more compelling.

Like every year, there are impressive films sharing the Best Picture slate. This year, however, there was a diverse range of genres on the board — coworkers everywhere clapped upon seeing “F1: The Movie” (2025) among the likes of “Sentimental Value” (2025) and “Marty Supreme” (2025). By the standards of any film fan and the Academy itself, any of these movies deserve to win.

But “Sinners” represents years of horror movies being ignored. While the nomination was a win in and of itself, it would be interesting to see the Academy spice up their lives and finally let biopics and period pieces take a backseat.

Anna Jordan is a junior writing about pop culture controversies in her column, “Chronically Online,” which runs every other Thursday. She is also Chief Copy Editor at the Daily Trojan.