The spooky season has arrived. For many, that means Halloween-themed parties, scary decorations and horror-movie marathons. But there’s another special aspect to this season that continues to draw crowds of all ages - haunted houses. Not the "real” ones, but the kind you pay to visit in hopes of a few good scares.
While popular with the teenage crowds, I still see my share of 30- to 40-year-olds standing in line anticipating the terrifying moments ahead. For me, haunted houses have been a family tradition since my childhood. Looking back, my parents probably should have waited a few years longer before subjecting us to these anxiety inducing experiences. I’m realizing this with my oldest child, who loves watching scary stuff but is learning how different it is when the scares are directly in front of and around you.
This past weekend (Oct. 4-5), I went to two haunted houses – Abandoned Haunted House in Mount Pleasant and Terror on Rural Street in Hartford. Both haunts are stables in my rotation, mainly because of their attention to the finer details and ability to create a foreboding atmosphere. Navigating their ominous halls had me appreciating all that goes into making a haunted house stand out. Because honestly, not all haunted houses are memorable. I’ve been to several that don’t even register in my memory five minutes after I step out of them.
But what makes a great haunted house? I’ve boiled it down to these elements:
Atmosphere: One of the first things I notice about memorable haunted houses is the atmosphere. The best ones have a setting that evokes dread. One of my personal favorites from my high school years was tucked away in the middle of the woods. You had to drive nearly a mile in to access it. There was something unnerving about slowly inching through a canopy of skeletal trees to reach a haunted destination.
Another favorite was a haunted house that was tucked away on former farmland northwest of Milwaukee. You needed several illuminated signs to find the haunt. Once you did, it felt like you were in the wrong place. The house itself sat quietly on the long-forgotten acreage. The only clue that this was the right place came from the ticket booth and the growing crowd of patrons. Otherwise, if you arrived early enough, you’d question if you missed a sign on the way in.
Some places, though, can’t always control the location of their haunt. It might be inherited property or a vacant spot repurposed for the season. While this is out of the organization’s control, they can create their own ambiance through their décor and actors. Abandoned sits right off I-94, yet they have a waiting area filled with roaming monsters and an abundance of creepy decorations.
Pacing: This is a make-or-break thing for me. If I end up running into another group or another group catches up to mine, it instantly ruins the experience. In the former scenario, you walk into a sequence that’s already playing out, ruining any chance of fully experiencing the scare. In the latter scenario, your group now has a surplus of people, forcing the actors to choose which segment to scare. It might be yours or it might be the people behind you. Either way, it takes me out of the experience every time.
This isn’t exclusive to the lesser haunts either. I’ve seen some of the best ones mess up the pacing on busy nights. Even with a great atmosphere and realistic set pieces, the pacing is crucial to experiencing a haunted house as intended.
To be fair, I understand why this happens. When you have a large queue of people and only so much time in a night, some things fall by the wayside, like proper spacing. I’ve seen many houses space out groups between one to two minutes on average. A five-minute cushion would be ideal, but I understand time is money and who really likes waiting in a long line? But if I knew a longer wait generated a more immersive and intimate experience, it would be a fair trade off. I might be one of a few who think that way though.
Immersion: The best haunted houses specialize in immersion. From the scenery and set pieces to the actors who don’t break character, these elements create an experience that sticks in your mind long after your last scream.
I must give another shoutout to Abandoned for nailing immersion. The complex has three haunted houses – two indoors and one outside. The indoor haunts – Ambush and Hysteria – effectively use movie-quality sets and top-notch lighting effects to keep you on edge as you navigate each room. I distinctly recall walking through a jungle, the streets of London, a swamp, an Egyptian tomb, a hospital and (my personal favorite) a haunted hotel, which made me forget briefly that I was in a haunted house attraction. It was that convincing.
Naturally, the sets play a major role in immersion. If a house only puts up plywood walls with black paint, the mind can easily forget about it. There’s nothing memorable about a basic corridor. But if you put up the same walls but dress them up with a brick pattern and burning lanterns or hang several portraits that warp as you pass by, then you create something worth remembering. You create a living scene, one that feels like it could be real with actual inhabitants.
I understand that not every haunted house attraction has a massive budget to design movie-quality sets, but I’ve seen non-profits pull off some effective rooms by being creative. The former Hartford Jaycees haunted house – it’s last iteration known as the Dwelling of Doom – found several ways to turn an old farmhouse into a house of horror. They didn’t do it with bare plywood walls either. They built their rooms from scratch every year to ensure an immersive experience.
Quality scares: Quality scares are a subjective thing. What might be frightening to one individual would barely cause another person’s heart rate to jump a few beats. But generally speaking, a quality scare is the kind you don’t see coming, even when you’re looking for it. I’m not talking about the basic jump scare where an actor sits just beyond a dark corner and jumps out in front of your face. While effective, it lacks ingenuity.
The best scares are the ones that are established and eventually come as the tension builds. I’ll give you an example. Imagine entering a dimly lit room with several robed mannequins. Your objective is to navigate through the room and reach the exit. All the while, the limited lighting keeps shorting out, giving you brief moments of darkness. When the lights return, it looks as though some of the mannequins are out of place. You know something is off, but you can’t tell which mannequins are real and which ones are props. Eventually, the actors approach you for a satisfying scare.
The key to that sequence is creating a sense of dread. Yes, you’re in a haunted house, so you expect things to jump out at you. But when you establish an eerie feeling (in this case, trying to discern which mannequins are a threat), you take your forthcoming scare to a higher level. I have a real-life example of this from several years ago, courtesy of the former Dwelling of Doom. I entered a padded room and saw two people in different corners of the room. They both looked fake and an exit wasn’t visible. As I searched the room for a way out, one of the actors stood up and waited behind me for a great scare. It was so simple, but highly effective.
You come to a haunted house for a fun time and several good scares. Your experience is determined by those four elements. If a haunted house has a great atmosphere, but has basic sets with predictable scares, you won’t have a reason to come back. If the haunted house has great sets and scares, but terrible pacing, you won’t notice because you’ll miss the scares and be too crowded to take in the sets. If a haunted house has all four elements working in harmony, put it on your list as an essential visit every October.
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