REVIEW: Angel of Light (DTLA)

You're on a busy street in downtown Los Angeles. The evenings have just begun to cool after weeks, months of summer heat. All around you are noises, traffic, neon. A woman walks by with two enormous pit bulls straining on their leashes; across the street, a man is yelling, and you can't tell whether the person he's arguing with is on the street or in his head. You're carrying your orange jack o'lantern purse and a toddler in a stroller rolls by, pointing at your bag and gleefully repeating the Spanish word for "pumpkin" to his mother. You smile. 

Finally, the line starts to move. You're ushered into the lavish lobby of the Los Angeles Theater, perhaps the most opulent and eerie of the old movie palaces that haunt Broadway. You are enamored of the chandeliers dripping crystal, of the impossibly high, ornately carved ceilings, of the red velvet stairs that waterfall down from the floor above and end at your feet. If this theatre were to ask, you think, you would be its Jack Torrance. 

The lighting casts the room into candy-colored swaths of purple, blue, and red, like you're in a giallo, and ahead of you another staircase leads down into shadow. Ambient noise pulsates, menacing. People clad in Art Deco-era finery are tableau-still on the stairs and in the middle of the room. Suddenly, the noise swells, fills the grand space, and everyone puts their hands to their ears, grimacing and shrieking, as though there is something in the sound that might drive them to madness, or has already. 

And then, down the staircase. Into shadow. Into the candlelit catacombs, and beyond.

You find yourself at a cocktail party, and excuse yourself to use the restroom, but the powder room with its floor-to-ceiling silver mirrors disorients you, and there is a dark figure standing stone-still at the end of the row of stalls. On your way back to the party, you follow a red glow to a low-ceilinged room painted to look like the inside of a circus tent, and before you can return to the party you witness strange men do strange things, as strange men often do. 

Telephones ring. You answer one, and a voice whispers and growls, makes animal noises. A shoe shine glides toward you, then away, and you're not sure if he's threatening you or completely unaware of your presence. From behind etched glass, faces loom and leer. And all the while that sound drones, swells, retreats, repeats. 

You're in the theater itself now, facing the stage. Creatures, cloaked and masked, thread their way between the rows, up and down the aisles, contorting their bodies, staring, screaming. At last, the show begins. A woman croons a languidly Lynchian version of "Summertime" as dancers twirl; it's beautiful but there is something wrong here too, some decay creeping in, curling the edges.

That's what the real fun begins. That's when you meet the Angel.

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I wasn't sure what to expect with Angel of Light, but I love the Los Angeles Theater, so I took a chance. I'm so glad I did, because I absolutely adored this show. It's one of the best immersive productions I've ever seen. 

First, this is a show that values stillness. I'm not a fan of most jump scares -- they can be effective, but usually they're overdone and cheap, used to mask a weak story; the truffle oil of horror ("Throw a little of this on top and it'll cover up anything!") -- and I've always felt that someone just standing there, staring at you would be so much more unnerving than the more aggressive moves. Clearly, someone at Angel of Light agrees.

Second, this is a show that utilizes its incredible setting with so much style, grace, and respect for its history and beauty. Some haunts try to shoehorn a square peg of a story into the round hole of its setting, without asking questions like, "Why would this take place at a cemetery, or inside of a Victorian home?" Not this one. If you want to know what it might feel like to live the last 30 minutes or so of The Shining -- well, not the murderous dad in a blizzard bit; just the glamorous Art Deco party ghosts bit -- Angel of Light is the only ticket in town.

Go. Enter the Light. They're waiting.

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Angel of Light will be at the Los Angeles Theater (615 S. Broadway, DTLA) through October 31, 2023. 

REVIEW: Creep LA: HAUS OF CREEP

Well, my spookies, it's September. How did that happen? And not only is it September, but it's almost October. Our favorite month, she is unstoppable -- and she's almost here!

But no need to rush things. September has her own special charms, of course. Not least of which is the fact that September kicks off Creep season here in Los Angeles. And this year, more than any other, I was stricken by the fact that Creep has to happen here in Los Angeles -- it couldn't happen anywhere else. It's so uniquely of and for this city. And that has never been more true than of Creep's 2019 installment, HAUS OF CREEP.

REVIEW: Creep LA: Awake

If you're looking for a haunt (or is it immersive theatre?) that really lives up to its name, Creep LA is your jam. Year after year, they're the classiest, weirdest, most intelligent game in town. If other haunts are "Top That" from Teen Witch (and don't get me wrong, I LOVE "Top That"), Creep LA  is that scene in 2015's The Witch where the bird is pecking that lady's tit while she laughs dementedly. Both are great in their own way, of course, but one makes you laugh with your friends while the other leaves you shuddering alone.

Are you ready to shudder? Alone?

REVIEW: Escape Room L.A.'s The Pyramid

Photo by Benjamin Jet

It's been my experience that haunt fans usually love escape rooms. Whenever I meet someone new and they learn that I love haunts and Halloween, their next question is usually, "Do you like escape rooms too?" The truth is, I'd never been particularly intrigued by escape rooms. For some reason, I'd always imagined that I would find myself in a boring, sterile room where I would be forced to work out arcane logic puzzles - or, even worse, MATH PROBLEMS - until I either failed to escape or straight up died of boredom. It sounded like a worst case scenario corporate team-building exercise, and why would I put myself through that willingly? Yet when the invitation came to check out The Pyramid, the newest room at Escape Room L.A. downtown, I surprised myself by asking Mr. Spooky if he wanted to check it out with me. Maybe it was the fact that haunt season is officially over and I was hungry for a new immersive experience; maybe it's the fact that 2017 has felt borderline apocalyptic and has led me to take the leap into many new experiences (cutting bangs! my first tattoo! political activism!). In any case, I decided I was up to the challenge of finding the elusive Mask of the Jade Warrior.

Photo by Benjamin Jet

When we arrived, we were organized into a small group of a half-dozen people and ushered into the first room. As soon as we stepped inside, I knew that I had made a terrible mistake - not in accepting this invitation, but in avoiding escape rooms for so long. Spoiler alert: I LOVED IT. The theming, which evokes an ancient Mayan temple hidden deep in the jungle, was impeccable, giving me a chance to indulge all of the Indiana Jones fantasies I didn't even know I had. The puzzles were challenging but not impossible, and certainly not anything that involved sitting down with a piece of paper to work out equations (LOL, what was I thinking?). After we finished the first room, I was shocked - shocked! - and delighted when the wall slid aside, revealing a mysterious passageway. That's when I realized that this wasn't just an escape room, it was actually the first in a series of rooms. We weren't just solving puzzles, we were on an adventure.

REVIEW: Creep LA 2017

Our evening begins on a nondescript loading dock outside of a building in a part of downtown Los Angeles that feels miles away from the trendy bars and restaurants that have started to spring up in the area. This section of town is all concrete and asphalt and sickly yellow-green streetlights. We are herded into groups of 8 and given black bandannas to cover our mouths shortly before we enter a sparsely decorated room illuminated only by candlelight, where we wait. And wait.

And then...she enters.

I'm uncomfortable and nervous and titillated and disoriented. This can only be Creep.

Photo by Hatbox Photography

Creep LA - perhaps the most exciting new haunt I experienced during last year's haunt season - has done it again with their new iteration, a partnership with the popular podcast/Amazon Prime series Lore.  In a world full of jump scares and gore, Creep brings the slow-burn, lingering terror. This experience is not about horrific set pieces and chainsaw chase-outs; rather, it's about catching something out of the corner of your eye, connecting with an actor who is inhabiting a character so fully that you're not even sure if they're acting anymore, losing yourself in the story and surrendering completely to the darkness.

Photo by Hatbox Photography

In fact, Creep isn't really a haunt or a maze at all - it's fully immersive, interactive theater, closer in spirit to New York's Sleep No More than it is to Knott's Scary Farm or Halloween Horror Nights. You become part of the action, moving from room to room, meeting new characters, and yes, even being touched by them from time to time. (Rest assured you won't be harmed or antagonized.)

Photo by Hatbox Photography 

The fairy tales, myths and legends of Lore are a natural fit for Creep, which always prioritizes storytelling above cheap scares. While I think it's best to head in knowing as little as possible about what to expect, I'll gladly tantalize you with a few keywords: Forest. Coffin. Asylum. Seance. Lobotomy. Doll. Wolf. (And as with most of life's best experiences, the whole thing wraps up with cocktails.)

Intrigued? Don't sleep, creeps: Creep LA: Lore runs through November 12, and many dates are already sold out. Grab your tickets now before they fade into the fog.


Disclosure: I was provided with complimentary passes to review this event.

TONIGHT: Spirits With Spirits at the King Edward Saloon

The King Edward Hotel (photo source)

Any ghost enthusiast in the greater Los Angeles area should be familiar with the group GHOULA, or Ghost Hunters of Urban Los Angeles. In addition to occasional extracurricular activities, GHOULA holds meetings on the 13th of every month (called "Spirits with Spirits") at haunted bars, taverns and restaurants around L.A. I've only been attending for a few months myself, but past meeting places have included the Cat and Fiddle on Sunset and the Queen Mary in Long Beach. For August, our haunted locale is downtown, at the King Edward Saloon at 121 E. 5th Street. Here are the details, taken from the GHOULA blog:

GHOULA meets for cocktails in haunted places on the 13th of each month. “SPIRITS with SPIRITS” is a casual gathering of regional ghost hunters. Open to all, from the curious skeptic to the passionate phantom pursuer. Make friends, and toast a ghost! Let's put the “Boo!” back into “booze.” All those who attend will receive a free G.H.O.U.L.A. button. If you already have, please wear it so others can find you.

THE DATE: August 13th, 2009 (Thursday)
THE PLACE: The King Edward Saloon
(121 E 5TH St @ Los Angeles St.) map
THE TIME: 8pm to the witching hour

THE GHOST(S):

The King Edward Saloon, a.k.a. The King Eddy Saloon, a.k.a. The King Edward Bar, just might be the oldest bar in Los Angeles (despite Coles's claims), opening their doors for business in 1906. President Theodore Roosevelt (when staying at the adjoining hotel) is said to have frequented this bar after hours (for his safety). Though there have been many changes in the neighborhood, and Prohibition (when its operation moved into the basement), this tavern has endured. It also remains the last survivor of the fabled "skid row bars" of Los Angeles.

This historic bar (even if it is mostly ignored and forgotten) occupies the South-East corner of the even more historic King Edward Hotel, designed by Parkinson and Berstorm (Parkson later designed many L.A. landmarks, including Union Station, City Hall, and Bullocks Wilshire). When this building first opened it not only proudly boasted that all the materials that went into the construction orginated from Los Angeles, but that due to its unique design was "absolutely fire-proof."

Those features aside, this saloon has another reason to brag. It is home to one of the great archetypal ghosts of America, the "vanishing hitchhiker." This apparition/urban legend has been seen in some form all over the United States (the most famous one being "Resurrection Mary" outside of Chicago), and even locally different versions of this story have been connected to the San Fernando Mission and Mulhulland Drive.

The Kind Eddy's version of this tale is that an awkward woman (possibly inebriated) introduces herself to a male patron at closing, and asks for a ride to her home in the Belvedere Garden section of East Los Angeles. The man, either with the best or worst intentions, agrees and even offers his coat to the shivering woman. On route, she demands that the driver pull over at the Evergreen Cemetery, where she mysteriously jumps out of the car and disappears into the dark grave yard. When the driver goes to look for her (and his jacket), he finds that she has completely vanished into thin air. As he leaves, he notices his jacket draped over a tombstone bearing the same name as the one she gave.

Is this ghost story a true haunting? Is it just another urban legend? Or, is it a hoax perpetuated by a woman with a sick sense of humor? Go to the the King Edward Saloon and find out for yourself.