howling at horror: bringing the fear and the funny
howling at horror: bringing the fear and the funny
Frights and fun await at TerrorVision and other NYC shows this Halloween season (photo by twi-ny/mdr)
I love being scared.
I love to laugh.
I also love to laugh when I’m scared.
The first time I saw The Exorcist — I had previously read the terrifying book — I was scared out of my gourd, even knowing what was going to happen. The second time I saw it, at a college screening, I laughed my head off. The third time scared the hell out of me again.
The same thing did not happen with Rosemary’s Baby, which has never given me the tiniest chuckle while reading it or seeing the movie multiple times.
According to the October 2021 Harvard Business Review article “The Psychology Behind Why We Love (or Hate) Horror” by Haiyang Yang and Kuangjie Zhang, Americans consume horror “to experience stimulation,” “to gain novel experience,” and “to help us (safely) satisfy our curiosity about the dark side of human psyche.” The authors note that “some research indicates that people with a higher sensation-seeking trait [i.e., a stronger need for experiencing thrill and excitement] tend to seek out and enjoy horror-related experiences more. Those with a lower sensation-seeking trait may find those experiences unpleasant and avoid them.”
According to the October 2015 Mental Floss article “Why Do We Laugh When We’re Scared?” by Anna Green, “In the case of horror movies, specifically, some theorists argue that we laugh because horror and humor have in their roots the same phenomena: incongruity and transgression. We laugh when something is incongruous, when it goes against our expectations, or breaks a social law (when a character does or says something inappropriate, for instance). But in another context, those same things are perceived as scary — usually when something veers from harmless incongruity into potentially dangerous territory.”
I’m not superstitious when it comes to supposedly scary things. I don’t suffer from triskaidekaphobia, fear of Friday the thirteenth, which just happened a few days ago. My wife and I have a lovely and sweet black cat. We got engaged on Halloween. So I tend to be okay with potentially dangerous territory.
TerrorVision leads visitors through a series of creepy rooms and hallways (video by twi-ny/mdr)
A few weeks ago I went to TerrorVision, a nightmare house in Times Square that continues through November 5. The premise is that visitors are auditioning for a role in the new horror film by Bobby Castle, who is seeking his next muse. There are three levels of fear: General admission offers “the standard level of scary, heart-pounding fun,” the Chicken ticket comes with “a special amulet to become ‘invisible’ to the monsters,” and Ultimate Terror “ensures you’re targeted throughout the experience.” I chose Ultimate Terror and had to go through it alone, as I could not find a friend to join me.
One of the main props is an old television showing nothing but static, a throwback to the sets on which I first saw The Twilight Zone (in reruns) and such horror flicks as the 1935 Werewolf of London and, later, Bad Ronald, Burnt Offerings, and Trilogy of Terror. back when you had only channels 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, and sometimes 21 and which shut down shortly after midnight, cutting to the national anthem, the Indian-head test pattern, and/or static.
Upon meeting Mr. Castle, I asked him how his cousin, William Castle, was. He said, “Ah, you know Billy? How is he?” I responded, “Feeling a little tingly these days.” (William Castle was the legendary director and producer behind such low-budget marvels as House on Haunted Hill, 13 Ghosts, and The Tingler, which featured a vibrating Percepto! electronic buzzer under some seats; he also produced Rosemary’s Baby.)
As I made my way through some twenty thousand square feet of rooms, each with different scenarios and props, dozens of ghoulish characters jumped out of windows and doors and approached me threateningly from around dark passages. One decrepit woman was trying to find her baby. A zombie was looking for a lost loved one. A sexy creature attempted to entice me into a small space.
I loved every second of it. And I couldn’t stop laughing.
I wasn’t laughing at the production; I was hysterical because it was so much fun. My only quibble is that it was much too short, at a mere twenty minutes.
As far as the benefits of consuming horror go, Yang and Zhang list them as a “catalyst for falling in love,” a “conduit for social bonding,” and a “post-horror relaxation.”
I’m not ready to relax yet, so on the horizon are Dracula, a Comedy of Terrors; the unauthorized parody Saw the Musical; Elsa Lanchester: She’s Alive, a one-woman show about the actress who played the Bride of Frankenstein; Joshua William Gelb’s Theater in Quarantine virtual frightfest Nosferatu, a 3D Symphony of Horror; and Ode to the Wasp Woman, a new noir in which Sean Young stars as Susan Cabot, who had the title role in Roger Corman’s 1959 camp classic The Wasp Woman.
One thing I’m not planning on seeing any time soon is The Exorcist: Believer, the sixth film in the franchise; I gave up after The Exorcist II: The Heretic, with Richard Burton, and never gave a second thought to The Exorcist III, in which the producers somehow enticed George C. Scott to take the lead. As the possessed Regan (Linda Blair) says to Father Damien (Jason Miller) in the original, “Dimmy, why you do this to me?”
However, I could watch Saturday Night Live’s Exorcist 2 parody over and over again. And there’s always Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (and the Wolf Man, Dracula, and the Invisible Man), in which Bud and Lou bring the fear and the funny.
Next up for me is Nightmare Dollhouse at Teatro SEA at the Clemente on the Lower East Side through October 31, another twenty-minute immersive experience. It’s from ETR Ventures and Psycho Clan, the folks who previously brought us This Is Real, Santastical, and Full Bunny Contact.
Written and directed by horrormeister Timothy Haskell, Nightmare Dollhouse promises that “the demonic and bloodcurdling lurk around every corner.”
I can’t wait.
Who’s coming with?