The Haunting of Sharon Tate (2019)

The Haunting of Sharon Tate tries something unnervingly intimate: it frames a notorious tragedy through Sharon’s own anxious, dreamlike perspective, turning history into a slow-burn psychological descent rather than a lurid retelling. Its best asset is atmosphere—the film leans hard into a 1960s Hollywood emulation with period textures, warm-yet-sickly lighting, and music choices that lull you even as the dread creeps in. If you’re on the fence, the hook isn’t shock value so much as the unsettling idea of foreknowledge, watching a woman try to make sense of visions that won’t let her rest. It won’t be for everyone—especially if you prefer straightforward horror or dislike real-world-adjacent stories—but if you’re drawn to mood, aesthetics, and a premise that keeps you in one haunted headspace, it’s a compelling late-night watch.

The Haunting of Sharon Tate is clearly trying to fuse supernatural horror with a grim real-world event, using premonitions and dread to frame Sharon Tate’s final days. The problem is it often comes off less like a thoughtful thriller and more like a clumsy, tasteless “what if” that many viewers will find exploitative and disrespectful, especially given how loosely it plays with history. The acting and execution don’t do enough to justify the premise, so the scares and tension rarely land, leaving a sour aftertaste instead of catharsis. If you’re sensitive to true-crime tragedy being used as entertainment, or you want your horror to feel earned rather than provocative, this is an easy skip—though the only real draw is its attempt at a somber, ominous mood.