This fall, The Verge is making a choice. The choice is fear! We’ve decided to embrace the season by taking in as many new horror movies as possible and reporting back on which ones are worth your time. We’re calling this series Hold My Hand, as we look at films you might want to watch with a supportive viewing partner. Get comfortable, put the kettle on, check the closet for ghosts, then find a hand to squeeze until the bones pop.

It’s no fun to enter a movie-viewing experience asking, “Does this movie need to exist?” and I would never prescribe it as a habit. But once in a while, there comes a film that raises the question so forcefully, it’s impossible to ignore. My Friend Dahmer, an adaptation of the 2012 graphic novel by Derf Backderf (a nickname, but it’s in the film credits, so my hands are tied here), is one of these. It tells the story of Jeffrey Dahmer’s adolescence, from suburban mall humiliation to prom-night disappointment. Off-screen, Dahmer raped, killed, and dismembered 17 young men between 1978 and 1991, and was sentenced to 16 life terms in the Columbia Correctional Institution in Portage, Wisconsin.

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