30 Best American Horror Story Episodes Ranked

When "American Horror Story" opens to the jaunty tune of "Tonight You Belong to Me," the song may as well be a message to viewers declaring exactly what creators Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk plan to do to the horror genre as they playfully disrupt, rearrange, and reimagine it.

Like every Falchuk and Murphy project, "AHS" is rarely subtle, splashing the canvas with over-the-top characterizations, camp, wacky plot elements, dark humor, and gore. Everything is on the table as the show delves into slasher films, vampires, body horror, aliens, creepy dolls, and demonic possessions — and that's just the tip of the iceberg. The use of a recurring cast, distinct visual styles for each season, characters and lore that drift across seasons, and the wanton use of anachronisms help give the series its unique appeal and keep fans coming back for more.

To find out which "AHS" episodes are the series' purest examples of b*tchcraft, we pored over reviews from fans and critics on IMDb, Rotten Tomatoes, and Metacritic, tossed them in our cauldron, and gave them a stir. Without further ado, here are the top 30 best episodes of this wickedly good series.

"AHS" fans tend to love the show through thick and thin, but "Red Tide" was a series high point. "Cape Fear" draws on another type of existential fear — the fear of inadequacy and nameless, faceless, talentless anonymity — played out over a palette of creamy neutrals and muted blues and grays straight out of our worst Instagram nightmares. The first part of a two-part season premiere, "Cape Fear" establishes the world of "Red Tide," introducing viewers to the Gardner family as they settle into off-season Provincetown in winter, a paler, ghostlier version of the colorful party town that hosts Bear Week each summer.

As network procedural screenwriter Harry (Finn Wittrock) and his family take up residence in an old P-town home, each family member faces their own artistic pressure. Harry has three months to complete a pilot, his heavily pregnant wife Doris (Lily Rabe) is expected to remodel the house, and violin prodigy Alma (Ryan Kiera Armstrong) faces off with Paganini. The simplicity of the episode's pacing, delivery, and visuals add to its tension, drawing parallels to Stanley Kubrick's "The Shining" and reminding viewers that a blinking cursor and a blank page can be every bit as terrifying as a flesh-eating Nosferatuesque figure.

The penultimate episode of "Roanoke," "Chapter 9" is one of the bright spots in "AHS" Season 6. Set on the eve of the Blood Moon, this episode follows three Roanoke Nightmare superfan YouTubers who run headlong into the bloodbath already in progress while Lee's reenactor Monet (Angela Bassett) and Audrey (Sarah Paulson) desperately try to escape the house and Lee (Adina Porter). A parody of everything awful about YouTube, they obsess over getting views and get starstruck even as they're running for their lives. 

Like the best parts of this season, "Chapter 9" plays around with the concepts of performance and the relationship between audience and art while unapologetically placing social media culture on the chopping block. Even as the body count climbs and peril mounts for the players, comments like "I wish I had a camera on you for that one" abound, reminding viewers that maybe it's time for a digital break.

"Chapter 6" serves as a halfway point for "Roanoke," effectively splitting it into two mini-seasons. While the first half of the season was framed around a docudrama format, this episode continues its critique of reality television and media consumption with a Big Brother-style follow-up series aimed at bringing together the Millers and their actor doppelgängers to the Shaker house over the Blood Moon.

Like most reality shows, the audience knows it's a bad idea, the participants know it's a bad idea, but we all want it anyway. As things start to go gradually awry with freak accidents and dead fetal pigs, it becomes harder to separate performance from authenticity. Agnes Mary Winstead (Kathy Bates), who plays the Butcher, is so lost in the part she's gradually becoming her. Still, the project forges ahead, cheerily setting the wheels in motion for the bloodbath we all know is coming.

With solid pacing and a fresh take on the classic genre, it's easy to see why this season starter was well-received. Oozing with loads of fun nostalgia like frosted tips and Jazzercise, "Camp Redwood" follows a group of friends as they escape to Camp Redwood from an L.A. under siege by the Olympics and the Night Stalker. 

While sitting around the campfire, the group learns of the massacre that took place there when Mr. Jingles slaughtered nine victims and cut off their ears as prizes, and that Camp Director Margaret was the sole survivor. As in every good '80s slasher, no one heeds the many warnings they're given, instead investing their energy in immediately breaking all of the camp rules. As Mr. Jingles escapes from the mental institution, apparitions appear, jump scares commence, and the Olympics kick off, it's shaping up to be one helluva summer.

This installment of "Coven" takes viewers all the way back to Halloween 1833 inside the French Quarter mansion of the evil Madame Delphine LaLaurie (played by Kathy Bates). Containing easily the most disturbing storyline of the series, the episode begins with a closer look at Madame LaLaurie's "House of Horrors." Meanwhile, in the present day, the witches of Robichaux's are under siege by Marie Laveau's (played by Angela Bassett) zombie attack as Cordelia (Sarah Paulson) suffers in the hospital, blinded by acid.

With its distressing camera work, darker hues, and themes of maternity and loss, this episode represents "AHS" at its best. As an utterly loaded Fiona burns down her powers reviving a stillborn, LaLaurie mercifully kills her undead daughters, and Misty Day revives Myrtle Snow, we're reminded that no one is beyond the point of redemption, at least in the world of Falchuk and Murphy.

Another solid episode from "Cult," "11/9" looks very different after the events of January 6, 2021. This episode kicks off on Election Night 2016, and it's somewhat unnerving to relive the intense drama that took place in the voting booth as voters bargained with themselves, lied to their families and friends about their votes, and coerced others to vote a certain way. "11/9" is an excellent example of how "AHS" manages to hold the mirror up to society while entertaining audiences more than enough to make the pill easier to swallow. 

When Gary (Chaz Bono) holds up his bloody left arm stump and profanely declares "Welcome to Trump's America," it's a perfect metaphor for the absurdity and horror of living in the post-Facebook world. While this episode offers its share of gore, the true terror is knowing how truly dangerous life in a polarized world is turning out to be and how almost anyone can be pushed into cult thinking.

Complete with zombie sex, jazz music, tattoo remorse, betrayals, and loads of inner turmoil, "The Dead" has a lot to give. This midpoint episode of "Coven" is about trying to manage the world while everything seems beyond control, and it's delightful to watch the Robichaux's witches work with the cards they're dealt. 

As Zoe (Taissa Farmiga) tries desperately to handle a broken, Mary Shelleyan Kyle (or what's left of him), Madison struggles to live with no feeling after her resurrection, a visually impaired Cordelia deals with the cards she's dealt, and Queenie (Gabourey Sidibe) contemplates her role in the coven. After an undead ménage à trois and several key revelations, the episode ends with a delicious betrayal and Delphine getting a taste of her own medicine. In an episode with its share of delightful moments, the best part is watching LaLaurie buddy up to Queenie, eating fast food in modern clothing and contemplating a hairstyle change. 

"Boy Parts" is chock full of the wackiness and camp that give "AHS" its own unique brand of horror. Earthy witch Misty Day (Lily Rabe) revives a couple of alligators, who in turn gruesomely chomp away at their own hunters. In a flashback, Queenie uses her human voodoo doll powers to scald a particularly awful fast-food customer.

In between interrogating the newly dug-up Delphine, Fiona nearly melts the brains of two inquisitive police investigators when they come around looking into the bus crash. After 180 years on ice, Delphine's fish-out-of-water status is good for a few laughs, but it's nice to see the beginnings of her redemption arc as she expresses remorse for what happened to her girls and asks Fiona if she can help her die. Meanwhile, Hank and Cordelia engage in some freaky-but-hot dark magic sex. But the most absolutely bonkers moment is easily Madison and Zoe's reanimation of Kyle after reassembling him from random frat boy parts. 

One thing "AHS" does consistently well is offer exposition and character introductions without bulking up the plot, and this episode is a perfect example. With a clever framing device, the series is injected with a healthy dose of exposition as a couple of honeymooners touring America's most haunted places enter Briarcliff. As the amorous pair explore the decayed and heavily vandalized estate, they spout off Wikipedia facts about the locale until an unseen force interrupts their antics, ripping off the groom's arm.

Back in 1964, we're briefly introduced to sweet biracial couple Kit (Evan Peters) and Alma (Britne Oldford), who are promptly abducted by aliens. After Alma goes missing, Kit, believed to be Bloody Face, is imprisoned in the sanatorium. Inside the walls is a whole host of interesting characters, including reporter Lana Winters (Sarah Paulson), innocent Sister Mary Eunice (Lily Rabe), cruel Sister Jude (Jessica Lange), Pepper (who we'll see again in "Freak Show"), murderous Dr. Arden (James Cromwell), nymphomaniac Shelley (Chloe Sevigny), ambitious Monsignor Howard, and sweet Grace (Lizzie Brocheré).

Sadism runs rampant at Briarcliff thanks to Sister Jude's philosophy that "Mental illness is the fashionable explanation for sin." As in "Apocalypse," a single song (The Singing Nun's "Dominique") playing on repeat in the common room establishes a sense of quiet foreboding, promising plenty of deliciously evil fun ahead.

This follow-up to "I Am Anne Frank, Part 1" toys with viewers' sense of what is real and what is illusion in all the best ways. And as with most of the greatest "AHS" episodes, just when fans think they've got a fix on who is good and who is evil, they're hit with reversals, twists, and redemption arcs that turn the show's in-world morality on its head.

When a stranger appears claiming that Anne Frank (Franka Potente) is really his wife Charlotte suffering from postpartum psychosis, she's given over to his care without much investigation before getting returned in record time and lobotomized. In between researching Arden's history, Sister Jude forges ahead with the forced sterilization of Grace, who is abducted by aliens before it can happen. On the alien ship, Grace encounters a very not-dead and heavily pregnant Alma, who coaches her through the experimentation.

The horror ramps up as a mutilated Shelley, disposed of by Sister Mary Eunice, appears at an elementary school, frightening children. By the end of the episode, the insanity spirals perfectly with revelations about the true identity of Bloody Face and the truth about Arden's Nazi past.

"Forbidden Fruit" generously serves up Halloween treats that include snakes, magic, Satanism, revelations, and identity crises. Ms. Mead grapples with her own nature as a robot, Mallory deals with some serious cognitive dissonance, and Michael seeks guidance from below. A few scenes offer a fantastic glimpse of the wasteland, where cannibalism and radiation sickness are what's for dinner. From this hellscape emerges a new threat in Coco's vengeful ex Brock and a mysterious carriage of picture-perfect apples, which Venable and mead inject with snake venom and serve up at an All Hallow's Eve party.

"Forbidden Fruit" adds an extra layer of Halloween eye candy with vintage trick-or-treating and party details like Coco's Marie Antoinette costume and couture black plague doctor masks. After a dreamy dance sequence to Bread's "Baby I'm-a Want You," things go awry quickly. An utterly wrecked-looking Brock emerges and stabs Coco in the skull moments before Venable's poison apples wipe out the entire outpost in a bloody, vomit-covered coup. When Mead kills Venable and turns out to be Michael's robot mom, the song changes to the Stones "She's a Rainbow," heralding the arrival of Robichaux's witches and an exciting storyline change.

Yet another fantastic episode from "Red Tide," "Thirst" features plenty of mounting tension, psychological terror, and gorgeous visuals. Tense, troubling, and downright disturbing moments abound from start to finish, from a blood-covered Alma to Doris' obsession with Lyme disease. As Harry and Alma deal with their black pill secret and shut out Doris, their relationship becomes exponentially more toxic.

Harry tries desperately to set boundaries for Alma and manage their new problem, but the situation is already unraveling beyond his control. In the middle of this mess, his manager Ursula (Leslie Grossman) shows up sniffing around for answers and quality scripts to pile on the pressure. Standout moments include Ryan Kiera Armstrong's exceptional performance as a sociopathic, ravenous child manipulator, Mickey's messy first kill, and Harry's delusion at thinking he can continue to hide his secret from Belle and Austin. But Ursula's nonchalance about destroying the lives of writers to milk them for scripts is one of the episode's best-played subtle horrors. 

"Smoldering Children" is a hard act to follow, but "Birth" manages it by leaning into the show's humanity. As Violet comes to terms with her new life (or the lack thereof), she gets to know the lay of the land, and the house feels awfully crowded these days with Chad (Zachary Quinto) and Patrick (Teddy Sears) plotting to kidnap and kill Violet's new siblings so they stay adorable children forever.

While medium Billie Dean Howard (Sarah Paulson) arrives to help cleanse the house, Violet questions how to deal with her folks, who are reeling from the news that the twins have intrauterine omophagia, a term that doesn't exist in the real world. When Vivien's babies come early, everything epically goes to hell as the house comes alive with spirits, who help deliver the twins in a completely bananas scene. Some clever camerawork amplifies our sense of Vivien's disorientation in a scene that, like so many things in "AHS," shouldn't work but somehow does. And in a final devastating reversal that fans still aren't over, Violet banishes Tate only to be comforted by her newly dead mother. It's enough of a shock to solidify "Birth" as one of the best episodes of the series.

Easily the best episode in "Asylum," "The Name Game" brings all its pieces together in all the best ways. After the stunning revelations at the end of "The Coat Hanger," exactly no one is surprised to see Arden hide them from Kit or Thredson return to Briarcliff with his own office.

Demon Mary Eunice installs a new jukebox in the chain smoking lounge before leaving to rape the monsignor. After actively working on her redemption arc lands her an unholy dose of electroshock at the hands of Mary Eunice, Jude hallucinates a gloriously campy technicolor scene with the entire asylum singing and dancing to "The Name Game." It makes no sense, which is exactly why it's perfect.

As Monsignor Timothy and Mary Eunice face off, Rabe and Fiennes give some of their best performances. When Real Mary Eunice breaks through and the monsignor convinces her to let go long enough to throw her over the railing, we're treated to a beautiful ending with the young nun floating dreamily to her death and to a kiss from Angel Francis Conroy in glorious black wings. In a final surprise, Arden climbs atop Mary Eunice's body as it enters the crematorium, a move nobody saw coming.

It should come as no surprise that Sarah Paulson directed this absolutely perfect episode of "AHS," which follows Behold (Billy Porter) and Madison back to where it all began. It's a blast to reconnect with the spirits of Murder House after all this time and learn how their storylines have progressed, especially when that means getting an infusion of Jessica Lange. Deemed "shameless fan service done right" by Vanity Fair, this episode brings back fan favorites, ties up loose ends, and answers questions fans had for years.

With Madison's help, Moira gets the peace she's been longing for and Tate and Violet reconcile with the revelation that it was the darkness of the house that turned him murderous. This revelation comes as a relief to fans who struggled to reconcile Tate's evil ways with the sweet, chivalrous kid who fell in love with Violet. And despite learning that Michael is the Antichrist and the house sits on a portal to Hell, there's just something ever so satisfying about knowing that no matter how many apocalypses are averted, at least Tate and Violet are hanging out listening to YouTube videos while Constance fusses over the dust on the mantel.