The Top 10 Horror Hosts, Ranked by Spookiness

From the 1950s onward, local TV networks would license or buy in bulk utterly worthless horror and genre films, but the content was reformatted to dress up the crappy films and make them feel even slightly curated. Enter the horror host: a heightened, spooky character who struck a balance between unironically loving the canon of unwatchable guff and mercilessly mocking its crappiness—the perfect horror fan surrogate. Through their costume, low production value sets, and a lot of dry ice, the experience of mocking B-movies at home with friends was visualized and condoned, and the accidental camp of these crappy films was made textual by the horror host.
Of course, this version of the horror host is but one version of the character; they didn’t just curate existing narratives, they would also introduce their own original programming. In a more recent example, Guillermo Del Toro introduced each episode of Cabinet of Curiosities, a 2022 Netflix horror anthology series featuring the work of some world heavyweights in modern horror, in line with the great Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone and Night Gallery hosting.
With 70 years of various horror hosts, many have reached iconic status—but which set a spooky tone for the proceeding horrors best?
10. Bob Wilkins, Creature Features
When you first look at Bob Wilkins, you get the idea that he’s riffing on the stock, masculine conservative man: a stern, stiff, cigar-chomping family man who’s ready to instruct you on how to conduct yourself because he knows best—the twist being that he’s telling you to watch crappy horror films. But then you watch a clip of Bob Wilkins and you realize he’s the horror host version of Joe Pera. In my estimation, this is much preferable; what may at first feel meek and mild soon turns warm and inviting, there’s a strange companionship as you learn that the quiet guy from your Bay area hometown may, in fact, be the regional expert of the strangest and most useless field of expertise. There’s nothing spooky about him, but there is something charming.
9. Elvira, Elvira’s Midnight Madness
Inheriting the vampy seductress role from the iconic Vampira a few decades prior, Cassandra Peterson’s Elvira made a sizable dent on not only her contemporary horror world, but broader pop culture. Dressed to the nines in black, with huge hair and ghoulish make-up, she bursts forth with a shining charisma from her chaise lounge, bouncing between outrageous innuendos and acerbic digs at whatever trash she’s introducing. It’s impossible to be unaffected by Elvira’s charm; her attitude is infectious, and you’re likely to find yourself grinning at her intros no matter how groan-worthy her jokes are. In terms of spookiness, she ranks pretty low, but only because she inspires so much love and goodwill (Elvira says gay rights!). Others may find her more scary based on how intimidated they are by commanding, funny women.
8. Svengoolie, Svengoolie
In both his iterations, first as Jerry G. Bishop on Screaming Yellow Theater and then as Rich Koz, Svengoolie brings to life the full wonders of local Illinoisan television. I’m fully convinced this Jazz-trumpeting ghoul man’s mission is to seed as much chaos into Chicagoan homes as possible, breaking into a slew of parody songs with his muted pianist, adorned with an enviable variety of themed headgear, and live-dubbing crappy movies, all with the energy of someone who’s been told to fill two hours of airtime with 20 minutes of prep. There is a floating skull that will often join in with all of the above. The whole thing feels like an exercise in trying to make an exhausted local television crew cry with laughter behind the cameras. Svengoolie isn’t scary in the traditional sense, but in terms of transmitting explosive anarchy into the homes of the good people of Chicago for decades, he’s terrifying.
7. Rod Serling, The Twilight Zone
There is no horror host without Rod Serling, and there certainly isn’t any of the type Guillermo Del Toro is emulating in his anthology show. What separates Rod Serling from someone like Svengoolie (the first time these two have ever been compared) is that Serling is introducing programming that originated in his show, often stories that he wrote himself. Serling would regularly introduce episodes of The Twilight Zone from inside the scene itself with a tautly pulled smirk and striking, bushy eyebrows. He always looked like he was smiling through intense stomach cramps, or that he’s smugly indifferent to the misfortunes of the people from whom we’re about to learn. He’s more foreboding than scary, but keep an eye out for him starting to narrate your life, for wacky stuff may be about to happen to you in service of moral instruction for 1960s audiences.