Job interviews can be scary. So Greg DeFatta tries to make it easy.
“When I say go, we're going to have you guys do your best rage zombie, both physically and vocally,” DeFatta explained to an eager group of applicants hoping to be hired as scare actors at The Haunted Trail of Balboa Park.
Wanted: Scare actor, seeking candidates who are energetic, reliable, creative, creepy — and, of course, able to scare the daylights out of people!
Victor Marshmani
"Ever since I've come on to the set, I've been welcomed and made to feel like family. So I do the same. And anything I learn, I pass on to any and everyone. These are my people — the actors, the whole team. I think they're awesome. On the school bus, it's a pop-up scare. So most of the time you're sitting down, so it's constant popping up. When you pop up, it could be people going past you — you have to go at them with vigor. That's how I feel. I use the seats to get bigger than them. I'll stand on the seat to get bigger than them. I'll use the seating in front of me to look like I'm levitating and I throw myself up to the ceiling because I'm standing on the seat. There's a lot of things in this bus that work."
This job has obvious appeal.
“You’re getting paid to scare people,” DeFatta said. “Not a lot of jobs offer that. Typically, in an office, you don't get to scare people. But out here, you get to get weird and scare people, and you become a character. We have had people that are from just about every facet of the the job market that there could be, and many have been coming back here for more than 10 years.”
A haunted attraction like this relies heavily on scare actors who can execute a good jump scare.
“Those are really the best,” DeFatta said with obvious glee. “So the scare actors usually pop out of an area and just jump right into the middle of your group. Or they could be a diversion tactic — where they're doing something that is strange or are being a victim — and then the group turns and looks at them, and then from a different direction comes another scare actor. So that's the basic job. Some people get super creative and do things that we don't think of. And sometimes we have to reel them in a little bit, or we go, that is brilliant — go, go, go!”
So what are the key qualities needed to be a scare actor or “scareacter.”
“Number one, energy,” DeFatta said, then quickly revised. “Well, no — I take that back. Common sense would be number one. Then energy, and then a sense of timing.”
Horror is a lot like stand-up comedy: You need a good setup and perfect timing to deliver the punchline. If you fail, you know immediately. But if you nail it, the rewards are priceless.
“I love the first night the most,” DeFatta said. “I'll just stand there in the middle of it all and listen to people screaming or laughing. You're getting this raw emotion from people out of just things that we have created. That is incredibly satisfying to get that emotional response from people.”
A scareacter needs to know just the right time to jump out or to make a loud sound. They also need to assess the weak link in a group and pick the right person to scare to get a good scream — and usually laughter from their friends follows. A good haunt will have a well-orchestrated chorus of screams and laughter.
'Scareacter' for a night
As a home haunter, I absolutely know what DeFatta described. So this year, I worked up the nerve to ask him if I could be a scareacter for a night.
“I've seen some of your videos from your home haunt,” DeFatta replied when I asked. “I would absolutely let you. You could join any night. And you know what? You've got the passion that it takes, and you are the perfect person to have as a guest star.”
That was the best compliment I could receive — bucket list item checked.
On preview night last month, I arrived at my new (and sadly only temporary) workplace to find nuns revving up chainsaws and clowns of different varieties roaming free. I was in my happy place.
My first stop: makeup.
“When you get in that makeup and wardrobe, you lose yourself and you become someone else," DeFatta explained. "I think that is super appealing to people. They come here and they just love it. It's a release. It's a huge release. I think that's why they come back over and over and over.”
Sarah Pugh was on site assigning locations to the actors. Once she assigns an area to haunt, then you can get properly made up and costumed. I was given graveyard duty.
Makeup artist Stuart Hirsch suggested, “We should do a skull-like, ghostly character.”
Hirsch set to work, first laying down some base coats with an airbrush, then using brushes and sponges to apply texture and detail. He also opted for some UV makeup so I would glow under black light. But I am already glowing from the experience of being professionally made up.
Hirsch and the Trail’s makeup team zombify, clownify, bloody and mask up some 40 scareacters in less than two hours every night.
I hear one makeup artist ask an actor, “If you'd be killing someone, which side would you be attacking from?” Then she splattered blood appropriately on his face.
Some people create their own costumes. Others invest in contact lenses so they can have red or completely white eyes. That’s the kind of commitment you get from the haunt community.
Hirsch has been working for DeFatta for two decades at three different attractions — The Haunted Trail being the latest — even though he is based in Los Angeles. He keeps returning because he sees the people he works with as family. Plus, he loves making up zombies.
After about 20 minutes, I was well on my way to being undead. Then Hirsch offered some add-ons. Would I like red under my eyes? Yes. Black tears? Yes. Bloodied up? Oh, yes, please!
As I saw myself in a mirror, I had Maria’s song from “West Side Story” buzzing in my head… “I feel pretty, oh so pretty, and I pity any girl who isn’t me tonight.”
It takes a (scary) village…
It is impressive that The Haunted Trail has about a month to construct its mile-long haunted attraction in Balboa Park. It essentially builds a small town, constructing not just graveyards and evil clown carnivals but also temporary offices, makeup rooms and a costume shop.
Once Hirsch signed off on my makeup, I headed over to Nicole Weaver in costumes. I liked that she had racks of costumes organized by horror location and theme, plus boxes with such intriguing labels as "Hell-No Kitty Jewelry." Weaver looked at my makeup, considered my location on the trail and headed to the Graveyard-Hellhouse costume rack. She pulled out a lovely white blouse covered in blood, layers of black skirts and a veiled hat. Now I was ready to hit the trail.
I was introduced to a legend — Patty Fay, who has been scaring folks for 33 years. She has a full-time job as a teacher and doesn’t consider this a hobby, but it’s definitely a little bit of therapy.
“But it is also a job. It's hard work,” Fay said. “You have to be on spot all night long.”
Each scareacter develops his or her own style.
“What I do is I wait,” Fay explained. “This is my spot.”
That spot is at the end of the graveyard where she jumps out from behind a pillar as she slams a loud clapperboard. Then she may chase one of the guests or just growl and make loud noises.
Her advice to a newbie: “Just find a nice spot to hide, never break character and just go at 100 percent. And if you get them, you get them. If you don't, well, you had fun. The main thing is always stay in character and don't leave your spot. Just have fun and enjoy scaring the bejeebies out of people.”
Fay graciously took time to explain the process of scaring the "beejeebies" out of folks. She pointed out tombstones I could hide behind and leap out from — or that I could wander like a haunted soul.
Luca Dismukes has been with the Trail for three years.
“I love scaring people,” she confided to me. “It is so much fun to be somebody else's nightmare, and to hear the screams and experience what other people fear is so much fun.”
She was stationed by the front of the gorgeous mausoleum. She walked me through the area, and I spied a prop of a dead guy sitting on a bench. I asked if I could sit next to him and pretend to be a prop — and then come to life.
Dismukes noted that this is a particular type of jump scare known as a statue scare, where you pretend to be a prop and then come to life to scare people. We decided this was a good place for a newbie like me. Plus, I am directly under a black light, which accentuates my makeup.
As darkness fell, we gathered for a pep talk. A scareacter reiterated the rules: no touching the customers, no obscenities and go full tilt to scare people. Then he ended with a rallying cry.
“Let them know who we are — The Haunted Trail!”
Whitney Seymour
"I love when I can make a grown man scream when they see the clowns. When you get a good one, it's pretty addicting — it's like getting a good laugh on stage. It's exhausting, but so fun. You need commitment, and willing to possibly end the night with some bumps and bruises, and not being afraid to look silly and go big. That's the motto in my clown experience, but also in scare acting. Yeah, go big or go home. And timing is huge. Once you know the space you're in and you do a couple of scares, then you find the flow a little better as far as what is working for you in that space."
I got into position and waited for the signal that the first group was coming through.
“Fresh meat!” yelled a scareacter at the front of the haunt, and the message was passed down the line so everyone knew to be ready.
I worried I might not be scary enough, but Fay reassured me.
“Don't get discouraged. Don't think, man, I didn't get this group. I'm losing my mojo or my technique or whatever,” Fay said. “But every crowd is different. I just enjoy what I do.”
So shaker can in hand, I lay in wait for the first group. I failed the first couple times; my timing was not quite right. Teenagers can also be a tough crowd. I did get poked a couple times by people saying, “I know one of them is real,” or “That’s fake.”
But I started to get my timing down and finally scared two groups into a chorus of screams before they ran off, only to find another of dead souls a few yards away. Those screams were enough to fuel me for my two-hour shift (it was preview night, so a short run).
During the course of the evening, a Florence Nightingale-style nurse came by repeatedly to check if I was OK or if I needed water. One of my graveyard cohorts kindly asked if his scare was stepping on mine — if he needed to time his differently or change locations.
Seriously, haunt folks are just the best.
So next time you head down The Haunted Trail, consider and appreciate all the love, passion, craft and creativity that go into creating a mile-long haunted attraction. And remember, when you let out a gasp — or better yet a scream — you are rewarding the efforts and everyone who worked on it.
