Legends of Horror: a stroll in a garden of terror
14 Oct 2018.

by Drew Rowsome -

On a crisp autumn night, with the hint of Halloween on the horizon, what could be more delightful than a stroll through the grounds, courtyards and dank tunnels of a ancient castle? Yes, the garden is full of rustling, bones and creatures that leap out threateningly, and the fountains in the courtyard bubble with blood and flames, but there is a serenity that descends, a graveyard stillness, that is quite calming and tranquil, punctuated only by screams of terror and laughter. Admiring the autumn colours may do it for some, but I'll take a haunted house or dark maze over the wonders of nature any day. Or preferably night. 

Legends of Horror at Casa Loma is as much fun the second time around as the first. Most of what made the 2017 edition so stellar remains, and the upgrade this year is "featuring The Vampire Circus." Many of the creatures are contortionists, and aerialists are suspended amongst the skeletons that dangle from the trees or by chains in the set pieces. A pond is inhabited by salamander-esque Black Lagoon denizens who writhe provocatively and though they hiss threateningly, they are as alluring as the mermaids who lure hapless horny sailors to their deaths in the depths.

The circus theme is not otherwise prominent - discounting the occasional appearances of scary clowns who jump out to induce slapstick screams - but the bloodsucker in charge makes his presence known by sneaking up behind, lurking and eventually taking centre stage. He seems to have less minions this year but he has invested in many more mechanical props that startle when they are triggered by one's approach.

After braving the entranceway, we are greeted by a host who, in his best dulcet Vincent Price tones, briefs us on the rules: do not stray from the path as Legends of Horror is not insured for death or dismemberment by the things that live in the bushes, do not touch the "ghosts" as they will touch back and "drag you to hell," and do not use a flash. I unintentionally break the last rule and while the ghoul merely covers his eyes in agony, a security guard politely requests that I refrain from using my camera in that manner. All of the security are scarily congenial - to provide a false sense of safety amidst the horrors? - particularly one who compensates for the paucity of flesh, blood and ectoplasm cast members, by materializing with a deep-voiced "Boo!" not once, but twice. Effectively both times.

There is a special guest star who makes an appearance that is more startling and disturbing than I expected. He is a more recent horror legend but just as iconic and considerably more frightening than the classic monsters we have learned to love. But the wraiths whose provenance is murkier that loom in the courtyard are as magical and haunting as the icy fingers of the breeze. The steam punk fire dancers are a nice touch and they match the goggled dead eyes of the figures encased, but still alive, in the glass and mirrors of the funhouse maze under the big top.

The dioramas are less effective simply because they are less interactive and while beautiful and/or horrifying to look at, they are a letdown after the perfect meld of form, function and fear that is the tunnels that have lured us there. The blowoff is a photo op and it really would make sense to add a gift shop to exit into. When we entered, the aforementioned host took note of my "I Survived Nightmares Fear Factory" t-shirt (worn brazenly to pump up my bravado and nerve) and chuckled, intimating that I was in for much worse. Legends of Horror is a quantitatively different experience, more sensual creepy chills that flat-out mindfucking terror. I would have bought a t-shirt.