Zombos' Closet

Nightmare: Superstitions in New York City For Halloween

ZC Rating 5 of 7: Excellent (and don't go alone)

Now celebrating its seventh year, NIGHTMARE is a unique, fully immersive haunted house experience. Set in an insane asylum, NIGHTMARE: SUPERSTITIONS forces you to break a superstition in one room and suffer the terrible consequences in the next. AOL Cityguide’s No. 1 rated haunted attraction in New York City, it delves deep into the psychology of fear. Now featuring a second attraction, FUN HOUSE.

I'll second the "fully immersive" aspect of Nightmare: Superstitions' haunted attraction in New York City, but what is it with haunt attraction's fondness for huge, leather-aproned guys drenched in blood, holding meat cleavers and cuddling their kill in a meat-locker room filled with icky meaty things? Of course he singled me out--the short guy cowering in the corner--to kiss his pet rabbit carcass, the one drenched in icky red stuff saturating its fur. I tried blowing a love kiss, but no, that wasn't good enough. I had to actually kiss the damned thing. Gross barely describes the experience, and immersive just doesn't quite do it justice. Had I a bar of soap right then and there I'd be bubbling up a foamy cleanse to rinse that disgusting kiss from my lips. I thought getting in on a press ticket would have spared me the ignominy. Fat chance.

I can't really spill the beans about the chills and potential bodily spills--yours--that you'll encounter in Nightmare: Supersitions, but the actors, those poor lost souls doing their best to creep you big time throughout the various rooms of the Funhouse and the Asylum, are more than good at their tasks of involving you, uncomfortably, through your growing uncertainty and fear as you stumble warily through the dark and across each tableau. Along your journey you will meet Bloody Mary, become disoriented from strobing lights and unexpected movements, be irritated by incessant screams and jabberings from the damned (or the group ahead of you),  and blinded by utter darkness. The makeup effects are nauseatingly realistic and enhance the bedevilment.

I've become a bit jaded being a horror and haunt maven, but there is one effect this year I almost avoided by using the emergency exit (there are immediate exits in each room, just in case you're squemish).  It involves plunging yourself into the unknown, into pitch blackness, into something that completely envelopes you. The sensations I experienced in this stifling situation ranged from claustrophobic to really frightening.

I loved it.

Read my  experience with Nightmare: Face Your Fear.

 

They're Tearing Down My Coney Island

Where Will the Analog Fun Go?
Haunted Attractions

I don't know why I'm crying, but I am. I don't know why there's a lump in my throat, but there is. Astroland is closing. They're shutting down Deno's Wonder Wheel Park. They're tearing down my Coney Island, the one seen in fading Polaroid and Kodachrome snapshots blurring into history, and watched on YouTube snapcasts pidgeonholed into two-minute slices for quick viewing. My tawdry, unattractive Coney Island will be replaced by the upscale, condo-dwelling, MP3-swilling crowd, which quantifies, properly socializes, and neatly categorizes everything into discrete gigabytes of wholesome 0s and 1s on their thumbdrives.

Press start. Hit play. In our digitized and homogenized world is analog entertainment inconvenient? Entertainment which hasn't been iPodded, or frontal corporatomized, or discretely measured into binary drips repeatedly delivered through popular media and fat business: who still wants it? Entertainment with tattoos flaring, piercings gleaming, and inner voices speaking first, inner ears listening last: why not open a mall instead? The not so pretty entertainment best enjoyed in ill-fitting clothes and loose bodies summed into fractions instead of rounded numbers: what, no Starbucks? Coney Island's skewed amusements have sidestepped the ubiquitous, commercialized, lockstep entertainment formulas medicating us through every day until now. But it's time has run out.

Maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe I'm out of touch and all's right with the world. Or maybe, just maybe, the closing of this historic amusement park, this last bastion of hucksterism and questionable rides, of piss-smelling walkways, seedy denizens, and plastic trinkets--maybe this is the death knell for the gritty, indiscreet, and impertinent analog amusements unfit for our digital consumption. 

Spooking in a Haunted Attraction

While chatting with Max, the Drunken Severed Head on the phone (he uses voice dial and a headset, of course), I was surprised to find out he worked as a spooker in a haunted house attraction. This was back in the days when he had a body. Naturally, I couldn't pass up the opportunity to learn all about it.

Which haunted attractions did you spook in, and when?

In the St. Louis attraction "Dr. Zurheide's Asylum", (built inside a very old, former brewery), I was the title character for the first season, and part of the second season. (I think this was in 1995 and 1996; I'd have to unearth my performing resume to be sure, and that might take a good bit of time.

Also in '96 I was a variety of characters for another attraction, whose name escapes me,which was set up outdoors as a maze. Of course, this was all before the circumstances that left me a drunken severed head.

How did you come be involved with it?

Dr. Zurheide's Asylum had an ad I responded to, I think. And as I had previously played a mad scientist in a locally staged horror movie spoof, "Monster House Party", I had pictures that convinced them to use me. ("Zurheide" was the name of one of the owners of the attraction.)

As for the outdoor attraction, I went to them and applied. I had not been happy with the working conditions at Zurheide's.

What were the working conditions like?

They are typical conditions in many attractions: stuffy and smoky from the "fog" pumped in from time to time, breaks were too rare, the sound was loud, and the hours were long. The owners themselves were nice people, but had never opened their own place before and didn't expect how rough it was gonna be.

Face Your Fear: Nightmare Ghost Stories

"You're kidding," said Mr. Chin, shaking his head in astonishment.

"No. Really. He screams like a young girl going through a bad frat initiation," I said.

"Wow, I never imagined..."

"Now what?" There was a commotion in back of us. We were standing in line, waiting to get into The Maze, a new addition to Psycho Clan's Nightmare: Ghost Stories, New York City's favorite haunted house attraction.

"Hey, looks like Lawn decked the ghost," said Mr. Chin, chuckling.

A guy wearing a white sheet had been keeping things lively by sneaking up on people waiting in line to give them a quick fright. He was now on the floor, balled-up in a fetal position and moaning horribly, although this time I don't think he was acting. Lawn Gisland, former movie cowboy and rodeo star, had slugged him hard.

"Lordy, sorry, so sorry, buddy," said Lawn, leaning over the prostrate ghost. You oughtn't have snuck up on me like that. It was pure instinct is all." The ghost moaned louder, tightly clutching his white sheet as he rocked back and forth. Two guys wearing wireless headsets came running over and carried him away. They gave Lawn dirty looks.

Going through the new Nightmare: Ghost Stories haunted attraction, Face Your Fear, can be quite a test for your nerves, as Mr. Chin, Lawn, myself and Zombos soon found out.