Halloween is a time of delightful spooks and scares for many. For Guilford’s Backstage Production and Acting class, the traditions of Halloween came alive Oct. 30 and 31. Resourceful designs and unexpected directing choices are just a snippet of the ways students made Fright Night a success. 

The student area had a complete makeover: a large spider model on the booth, draped webs, orange and purple streamers. The costumes ranged from amusingly simple to shockingly intricate and avant-garde. From the inflated T-Rexes to imposing Evil Emperors, students took full advantage of the creativity Halloween allowed.  

It wasn’t just pretty decorations either. Candy was offered like confetti. Lofthouse cookies and chips were free for the taking at the front of the lobby. There was no stinginess in the flow of Halloween treats.

My friend and I took some time to look around. A large billboard advertising a Halloween candy contest caught my eye. A battle between 10 of the most famous Halloween candies, all equal in tastiness, presented in the form of sticker votes. From the time I got there on Thursday, Reese’s seemed to be in the lead. Sour Patch and Snickers weren’t far behind. 

All of that was a precursor for the actual event. It was hosted in the Sternberger Auditorium, a graciously large and acoustic space. Coming in, we noticed an inability to see further than 10 feet ahead of us. The scene was covered in smoke and darkness.

Surprise! A bloody, headless body! Its arms spread wide across the circus wheel. Two actors stood by: a bloody clown and a silent dancer. Eerie smiles from the circus actors held steady.  

“Want some candy?” asked the clown.

The candy was illuminated under the realistically decapitated mannequin. 

Bells and whistles, all attached to the dancer, screamed behind me just as I did. 

Later, my friend asked for his name. 

“His name is John,” said the clown.

The next stop was to the left of the station. A gory old man sprawled on the floor. 

Crimson wounds decorated the old man’s forearm and neck. In dim lighting, the skin looked jaggedly torn, bare and raw. 

Constant banging from just a few feet abruptly rained down as we passed by. The banging came from a house. More precisely, a “Monster House.” 

We talked to the students behind the house on their inspiration. 

“We like the movie,” said the theater student. 

“It has a kind of like … gritty style,” said the other.  

We followed the haze into a tunnel supported by poles. The further we walked, the more concentrated the smoke got. Bright green lights shone through the most obfuscated part of the tunnel. 

Without warning, a roar from a werewolf came from our left. It was an effective jumpscare. 

Waiting for the perfect time to roar wasn’t easy for the student-become-werewolf. 

“I would say the hardest part for me this whole semester … would be this. I’m sweating bullets right now,” said the werewolf.

We were able to make it through the tunnel with our sight and selves still intact. A LED-masked guide wordlessly raised his arm to the next student exhibit.

Similarly LED-masked students were sprawled on the floor. A rocking chair and some hay created a rural farmland feel. 

We stood in expectation. No movement from the LED masks. We took another step. 

An actor animalistically bolted to us. They were on all fours with a seemingly singularly minded focus. We were chased aimlessly until we reached the next Fright Night scare.

Everything stood still. Uncertainty dripped from the air.

Anywhere else, this would be a homely scene. A white antique couch was tightly squeezed behind a coffee table, in front of a homemade TV.

A tattered woman rocked a baby doll. Her white rags swayed with her. A controlled mania filled her eyes. 

“Save the baby,” she said. 

Nothing could tear her away from the doll. 

“Save the baby.”

She trembled. Her voice got louder.

“Save the baby! Won’t anyone save the baby?”

 Desperation and visceral fear fuelled her as she shook the doll in front of us. Her braids flared wildly with her convulsions. Nothing else mattered except the baby. 

The baby was alive in ghost form. Clad in ghostly attire, she emerged from the TV  murmuring and crawling. 

The woman screeched, fully taken into madness. 

“Take the candy,” said the woman. 

The uncanny scene was inspired by the movie “The Ring,” but the students made it fully their own. With lots of trial and error, they were able to make it a formidable finale.

 “All of us had different ideas, like we wanted to put it in there, so we would … throw an 

idea out. Maybe it doesn’t work, maybe it does work, all right … Ideas came and went, but it all turned out really good,” said the TV’s constructor. 

With a dramatic and terrifying flourish, Fright Night ended with bang. 

This event would not have been possible without the creativity of the students. John Wampler, the theatre technical director and professor for the Backstage Design Class, testified to their efforts. 

“I’m really happy with everything … It’s a real challenge to be just told to come up with a concept, like come up with an idea,” Wampler said. “There’s a rubric of what you’re going to do, but you can’t start until your idea. And they all stepped up to that challenge.”