Scott Spiegel, the filmmaker and writer who injected humour, chaos, and a gleefully twisted imagination into the world of cult horror, has died at the age of 67.
Born in Michigan in 1957, Spiegel was a key part of the scrappy Detroit film crew that reshaped horror in the late ’70s and early ’80s. Alongside childhood friends Sam Raimi, Bruce Campbell, and Robert Tapert, he cut his teeth on wild, low-budget shorts before co-writing Evil Dead II (1987). That film — an audacious blend of splatter and slapstick — remains a genre landmark, and Spiegel’s fingerprints are all over its gonzo energy.
As a director, Spiegel carved out his own corner of horror cinema. His 1989 feature Intruder, a supermarket-set slasher with Raimi and Campbell in supporting roles, became a cult classic thanks to its inventive camerawork and outrageous gore. Later, he helmed From Dusk Till Dawn 2: Texas Blood Money (1999), proving his love of pulpy sequels that didn’t take themselves too seriously.
Spiegel was more than a horror filmmaker — he was a connector. He popped up in small roles across Raimi’s projects (Evil Dead, Spider-Man) and co-founded Raw Nerve, the production company with Campbell and Tapert that gave Eli Roth’s Hostel its start. His knack for collaboration helped launch careers and keep cult cinema alive when Hollywood had little interest in it.
What made Spiegel stand out wasn’t just his CV but his spirit. His work carried a mischievous streak — the sense that horror should be fun, anarchic, and unafraid to get weird. Fans adored him for it, and his movies still feel like late-night discoveries made with friends when you’re a little too young to be watching them.
In an era where horror has become slick and studio-driven, Spiegel’s legacy is a reminder of what’s possible when passion and ingenuity outweigh budget and polish. He wasn’t afraid to push a camera into impossible places, or to lace a bloodbath with a punchline.
Scott Spiegel leaves behind a body of work that might not always have made the box office, but absolutely made its mark on the genre. For the horror community, his death feels like the loss of one of its true mischief-makers — a creator who reminded us that splatter could be silly, scares could be fun, and that sometimes the best cinema comes from a group of friends who just won’t quit.
