Will Spook for Screams

By: Dan England

Christian Victor as Zippy. Photo by Revival Marketing.

Clear your minds. Christian Victor knows what scares you.

He’s probably lurking in a dark spot of the maze, watching you flinch at a loud noise, squirm at the slightest rustle of corn or clutch an arm (even a stranger’s) in terror at the sight of a person in clown makeup. He knows exactly what to do to give you the willies. He’s even made a career out of it.

Victor, 32, runs Scream Acres, the haunted corn maze that’s a big part of Fritzler Farm Park in LaSalle. He designs the maze and the scary stuff inside. He also lives there, so he does some farming on the side. But perhaps his biggest job is to hire and train the actors who stalk the corn.

They’re paid actors, and yes, some come from drama departments at their high schools or colleges. But they’re also athletes or cosplay fans, and many, Victor says, are quiet types who seek the rush they get from coming out of their shell by scaring someone out of their skin.

“Many of the actors are introverts,” Victor says, “until they get in their costume.”

13th Floor actors in makeup. Photo by Jordan Secher.

The way haunted attractions hire their actors has evolved as much as the special effects. Many years ago, actors were volunteers who would hide behind a corner and try to jump out at the right moment. Most haunted houses and mazes now hire experienced actors who probably watch too many horror films and are skilled at creating characters and finding different ways to scare those who are brave enough to enter.

“A strong actor in the right character and the right place can elevate the experience tenfold,” says Bryan Kopp, a senior general manager at the Thirteenth Floor Entertainment Group, one of the most successful Halloween businesses in the country. It has more than 15 haunted locations nationwide, including the one in Denver.

Many of those who hire actors also haunt the customers, including Victor because he can’t resist it. He got his start at a Catholic middle school that put on a haunted house by assigning groups of students to decorate a room in the building. He hung fake bodies in bloody sheets from the ceiling, and the other students working with him quit. The school made him take them down, but he was hooked.

“Scaring people gives you an adrenaline rush,” says Victor, who’s acted for nearly a decade. “It can almost be therapeutic in a way. When you’ve had a long day, all those things troubling you disappear when you enter the maze.”

Scare tactics

Victor prepares prompts for his auditions (they change every year) that measure the actors’ improv skills, such as asking them to pretend they’re a ballerina transforming into a werewolf. Victor is proud of his own abilities to think on his feet and figure out the best way to scare someone, and he expects those same qualities from his actors.

“You can hide around a corner and say boo,” he says, “but that doesn’t stick.”

Kopp has his actors loosen up by giving them an exercise that encourages them to be silly, such as having an argument with themselves. Shyness has no place in a haunted house, says Shelby Hains, a veteran actor who helps others audition for the 13th Floor Haunted House in Denver.

“In order for a guest to buy in,” she says, “we have to buy in ourselves.”

Scare acting is far different from stage acting, says Brandon Harrington, president of Find Your Light, a Loveland organization that helps people of all ages, most of them children, find emotional support and community through theater. The organization puts on a haunted house every year as a fundraiser.

“Your audience is on the move,” Harrington says. “You have their attention for 15 seconds, and then you have to reset. You have to have the energy and courage to perform every 30 seconds, doing the same thing over and over.”

Brandon Harrington as Stitches.

A flesh-and-blood actor adds a sense of realism that animatronics can’t match. Animatronics can be scary—just look at “Five Nights at Freddy’s”—but it’s easy to disassociate from a robot, Hains says.

“Our actors give a genuine performance, and they make it feel more alive,” she says. “That living, breathing character is putting you in the scary moment. It’s a real world when you have real people.”

Huge productions like the 13th Floor hire makeup artists, some of whom have had training in L.A., Kopp says. Other attractions rely on volunteers to do their makeup, or the actors learn to do it themselves. Kopp calls their makeup artist a crucial component.

“When you have 100 actors who are short on time every night, you need it,” Kopp says. “We have many looks that would work in a movie.”

All in good fun

Even in the spring, the kids start a countdown to when they can work at Find Your Light’s haunted house.

“We have kids who only do the haunted house,” Harrington says. “They work better in the dark.”

This year is the organization’s 15th haunted house, called Find Your Fright (clever, yes?). There are some who have volunteered every year, including adults, Harrington says, because they enjoy it. Volunteers primarily work as scare actors, but some do makeup and build the haunted house.

Harrington tries not to make the house too scary, given that it’s a fundraiser. The theater also hosts a night for little kids, where the actors act goofy and dress up as cartoon characters instead. Harrington himself has to strike a balance as Stitches, the clown he plays every year who keeps guests entertained while they wait in line.

“I’m pretty good at gauging how far I can go,” he says. “Ultimately, I want them to come inside. I don’t want to scare them off.”

Actors can sometimes go too far. It’s easy to do, given their thirst for a good fright. Kopp says the actors call the worst scares a “code yellow”—you can probably guess what that means—and they don’t like to joke about it. They like to think of the fright level as more “The Nightmare Before Christmas” and less “The Texas Chain Saw Massacre”—though they’re talking about the vibe, as they might actually have a chainsaw. That’s part of the reason why actors won’t grab you or even touch your arm.

“The goal, of course, is we want them to scream,” Kopp says, “but we also want laughing and clapping. We aren’t there to torture people.”

One scream of terror every night is enough to carry Victor through another season in the maze. Maybe you’re the one to give it to him. He’ll be waiting.