From humble beginnings, Honolulu Horror Nights has evolved into a growing space for queer folks and horror fans to feel seen and celebrated.
Interview by Mitchell Kuga
In 2023, Steven Hobaica launched his film series Honolulu Horror Nights at the urging of his friends, who had long turned to the horror buff for movie recommendations. As a teenager, Hobacia hosted horror movie screenings in his parents’ basement, and he recalls secretly watching The Exorcist as a 10-year-old. But rather than inducing nightmares, he found comfort and acceptance in the genre. “As a queer person, I’ve always seen horror as a place where it’s okay to be ‘too much’—too emotional, too expressive, too different,” says Hobaica, 32. “It gives us permission to explore the darker, messier parts of ourselves without judgment.”
Since Honolulu Horror Nights’ first screening, which drew around 40 people, the nonprofit has expanded into the world of drag, dance performances, and queer raves, while also partnering with organizations like the Hawai‘i International Film Festival and Hawai‘i Filmmakers Collective. You can catch the next Horror Night on April 19—a screening of Audition, the 1999 Japanese femme fatale horror thriller—at Hawaiian Brian’s. The movie will be followed by a dance party hosted by Māhū Mix, celebrating the halfway point to Halloween.
Lei spoke to Hobacia about his childhood fascination with horror (spoiler alert: he was raised Catholic), what makes the horror community in Hawai‘i unique, and the four horror movies he could watch till the end of time.
Hi Steven! Tell me about your fascination with horror as a kid—what films were you first drawn to, and what were your initial reactions as a 10-year-old?
I first got into horror through shows like Tales from the Crypt, Goosebumps, and Courage the Cowardly Dog. I was totally fascinated by them—they felt edgy, alternative, and weren’t afraid to push boundaries. That led me down the horror rabbit hole. I then started watching more intense horror films, like The Exorcist, when my parents weren’t home, despite my Catholic upbringing—which, to be honest, likely attracted me to the genre. Needless to say, they were a little concerned, but I was just becoming a film and horror fanatic!
Did you have nightmares as a kid?
Very rarely—I sometimes wish I had more. I also sometimes wish to experience something supernatural, but have not yet had the pleasure. I’ve definitely had moments where I wake up and think I see a figure in the corner, only to realize it’s a hoodie on a chair. One time I even hallucinated a spider falling from the ceiling onto my face and smacked it into the bed—waking my partner up in full gay panic!
I love this story of you first watching horror films in secret and fostering a kind of closeted fascination with the genre. In what other ways do you think queerness and horror intersect for you?
There’s so much overlap between queerness and horror. Both often live in the margins and explore themes that aren’t always accepted by the mainstream. Horror has long been a space where artists and audiences can confront taboos, play with identity, and question societal norms. As a queer person, I’ve always seen horror as a place where it’s okay to be “too much”—too emotional, too expressive, too different. It gives us permission to explore the darker, messier parts of ourselves without judgment. I also relate to the way horror makes people uneasy. That tension feels familiar—similar to how my queerness has made others uncomfortable at times.
It’s one thing to love something, and quite another to organize a public event that requires finding a venue, getting the word out, and convincing people to show up. What inspired you to start Honolulu Horror Nights in 2023? And what were your goals for the project?
Honestly, it all started with me hosting horror movie nights in my parents’ basement as a teenager. Over time, I became the go-to “horror critic” among friends—people were constantly asking me for recommendations. Eventually, I started a small Instagram account (@stevenreviewshorror) just to share reviews and suggestions with them, and what began as a fun side project now has nearly 700 followers. At the same time, I was hosting casual screenings at my house here on O‘ahu and organizing group outings to see new horror films in theaters. As the interest grew, friends encouraged me to take it public. I was definitely nervous—putting yourself out there is always a bit scary—but I wanted to build something fun, creative, and community-driven outside of my day job.
Honolulu Horror Nights started as a film screening but has since expanded into drag, dance performances, and even a horror rave. Has anything about this trajectory surprised you? And where do you hope to see it go next?
Honestly, I thought this would be a one-off or maybe a small series of events. I didn’t expect it to take off the way it has. But word-of-mouth has been strong, and the community support has been incredible. It’s evolved into this beautiful monster. In the future, I’d love to collaborate with more local and international film festivals and eventually launch a horror film festival of our own here in Hawai‘i. I recently had the opportunity to produce a short film on O‘ahu that centers on a queer romance during Hawai‘i statehood, and that experience was incredibly meaningful. I’d love to keep bridging Honolulu Horror Nights and film production, while continuing to spotlight local talent, forgotten horror gems, and creating a space where queer folks and horror fans feel seen and celebrated.
Does anything about the horror scene in Hawai‘i feel different than on the continent?
Absolutely. There’s something about the contrast between the natural beauty of Hawai‘i and the unsettling world of horror that creates a unique atmosphere. I was worried at first that people wouldn’t be into it, but I think that contrast is part of what makes these events so exciting—it’s not something you expect here. That said, what I’ve learned is that horror lovers exist everywhere. No matter where you go, people resonate with the genre and the themes it explores. The horror community is passionate and welcoming, and it’s been amazing to see that thrive here too.
I think last year’s hit The Substance opened up a lot of people’s eyes to the world of horror. What are some of the misconceptions you think people have about the genre?
The Substance was hands-down my favorite film of the year—horror or otherwise. People often assume horror is all about shock, gore, and violence for its own sake. And while those elements are part of the genre, the best horror films use them purposefully. When a movie like The Substance pairs those extremes with strong storytelling, subtext, and social commentary, it becomes something powerful. People can miss the deeper themes because horror is designed to provoke a visceral reaction. But underneath the surface, horror often tackles topics other genres shy away from—power, identity, trauma, and transformation.
What can you tell me about Femme Fatale, your upcoming event with Māhū Mix?
I’m so excited about this one! Femme Fatale is our next big collaboration with Māhū Mix. Our last event together, They Slash Them, brought in over 500 people, and we’re building on that momentum.
Femme Fatale is a celebration and reclamation of femininity, horror, and the queer experience. Inspired by the iconic femme fatale—a seductive, powerful figure who bends the rules—this event honors those who challenge the gaze and redefine what it means to be seen.
Feared and fetishized, the femme fatale has long represented danger simply for being desired or in control. In horror, she becomes even more powerful—untouchable, unforgettable. For many queer and femme-presenting folks, she mirrors our own experience with visibility, desire, and defiance. This night is a tribute to those who seduce, disrupt, and transform in the shadows.
The first half of the evening includes a film screening, local vendors, community orgs, horror trivia, themed cocktails, snacks, and more. It’s a chance to gather, connect, and support local artists and businesses while watching an excellent, and disturbing, Japanese femme fatale horror film from the late 1990s.
Then the night shifts into queer rave mode with DJs, drag performers, live music, and dancing. We’re working with some incredible local queer and Pasifika talent, including performers like Pacifikunt and Haus of Zamora. The event is going to be a full eight-hour celebration. Hercules, who runs Māhū Mix, is such a thoughtful and brilliant collaborator, as well as a close friend—it’s been a dream working together to create something truly special for the community.
Last question: If you could only watch three horror films for the rest of time, which would you choose?
Oof, that’s brutal! I’m going to cheat and give you four—Hereditary, The Substance, and for those that blend horror with other genres, Parasite and Pan’s Labyrinth. Each of these films is horrific in its own unique way. Hereditary taps into deep psychological and familial terror. The Substance is bold, grotesque, and emotionally raw—it uses body horror to say something powerful. Parasite plays with social horror in such a sharp, genre-bending way, and Pan’s Labyrinth blends fantasy and horror into a dark, beautiful fairy tale. They’re all unforgettable, and each one sticks with you long after the credits roll.