Nightmare in the Country

A man and woman posing for a photo at the Nightmare in the Country attraction

I had a long weekend with the magical girl, and one of the things we did while she was visiting was go to the Nightmare in the Country Scream Park, an annual attraction near Woodward, Oklahoma.

We had a lengthy drive to get to the place. I’d never been before and neither had she, so we didn’t know what to expect. In the end, I think it was more elaborate and impressive than we anticipated.

Nightmare in the Country is one of those haunted house walk-throughs in which people in makeup and costume jump out and try to startle you. I’ve been to some of these before and even participated in one once, but Nightmare in the Country is the most elaborate I’ve ever seen. It is constructed on a farm and opens annually for a few days in October. It has grown both in size and in popularity over the last few years. The creators promised that this year was much more elaborate than the years previous, and much more immersive.

The park this year features two attractions called “The Manor” and “Dr. Sinister’s Carnevil of Fear.” Because of the price, the lengthy drive to reach it, and because neither of us was interested in evil clowns, the magical girl and I only walked through The Manor.

We had no idea how big an event this was. Cars were parked for a long distance up the road leading to the farm. Once we arrived, security scanned us with metal detectors. Then we entered a lengthy line for tickets and were brusquely informed of the rules against smoking, drinking, cameras, cell phones, guns, and knives. It was like going into a concert.

Because of the no-phone rule, and because of a real chance of losing any loose items, I have no photographs except the one above, which is taken in a photo booth at the beginning of the attraction and given to participants at no extra charge.

I think we stood in line for almost two hours to enter The Manor, not because of poor management but simply because of the sheer number of visitors. There were some interesting sights to see while in line, however: There was a stage on which a girl dressed like Wednesday Addams sang weirdly, and a man on stilts in a monster costume walked around and menaced the patrons. A few creepy clowns also made an appearance, apparently to advertise Dr. Sinister’s.

The haunted house took probably a half hour to walk through. I would have liked to linger at some parts, but there were groups behind us, so it was necessary to continue walking at a decent clip.

Description of the Tour

The Battlefield

The attraction begins with a grizzled man, wearing an eyepatch, who informs you that you’re entering a Civil War battlefield that took place on an Indian burial ground, and that the spirits of the dead soldiers do not rest easy. After that comes a winding hiking trail through a forest marked by green lights and fog. Actors dressed as dead soldiers confront you, reciting various crazy lines (the first one told my magical girl, in detail, about how he wanted to cut her head off and use it for a cannon ball). They actually talk to you and make demands, which is partly amusing and partly uncomfortable: Sometimes, I felt as if I should have a script with me to know how to answer them.

The trail goes a long way, passing by a graveyard with a hidden fog machine. Probably the highlight of this part of the tour is an elaborately made up ghost-man riding a horse: He stepped majestically out of pitch-black shadows and warned us to stay on the path. Because we couldn’t see him before he appeared, and because he was on a real horse, this had a certain gravitas that most of the other actors couldn’t quite muster. The second-best part is the graveyard with the fog, which has a genuinely spooky atmosphere.

The trail is long enough that it seems the attraction should be almost over when you discover it’s just beginning: You find yourself at the door of what looks more-or-less like a mansion, though close observation reveals a tin roof, proving that the “mansion” is actually a facade built over a shed. Still, it is impressive, and it looms out of the darkness, foreboding and haunted-looking. Once you rap the knocker on its front door a few times, a grim doorman opens and lets you in.

The Manor

The inside of the Manor, which has at least two floors, is full of artificial fog. It is a twisting, mazelike path (though there is actually only one direction you can walk) that takes you through various themed areas: One of the first—and corniest—features a blood-streaked Colonel Sanders ranting and raving as he mixes human body parts on a stove. The performance of this actor is especially impressive since he apparently has to keep up his constant screaming for four hours straight from eight to midnight, the hours when the park is open.

Other areas include a tavern with a barman who leans out of the fog and laughs in your face, a schoolroom full of butchered children, a row of coffins aside a hearse, and several others too numerous to mention. Everything is elaborately decorated with dismembered corpses and other Halloween goodies. The decorations and costumes are impressively elaborate as well as inventive.

The actors along the hiking path refrain from jumping out at you, the idea apparently being to set up a narrative and build tension. The Manor itself, however, is full of jump scares, with actors leaping out of blind corners or suddenly shrieking. Some of this is certainly startling, but both the magical girl and I are too old to find it actually frightening. Nonetheless, it is an entertaining spectacle.

Criticism

The Good

In my opinion, the best parts of the Manor are the quieter ones, a few of which are genuinely eerie—and I think eeriness is closer than startlement to the sensation of dread horror should seek to evoke. My favorite is probably the bathroom, which is simply a fog-filled room with a blinking, buzzing lightbulb that reveals a sink and toilet both smeared with blood. Nothing happens in this room: It’s just creepy, so it is one of the most successfully spooky parts of the house.

My second favorite is a bedroom in which a woman sits on a bed and sings softly over the mangled corpse of an infant while above her, tangled in wire and cobwebs, hangs an array of doll parts. The actress in this room does not scream or laugh or otherwise acknowledge your existence, and that makes her frightening.

The other parts I really like are the scares that have no obvious human actors behind them. Early in the Manor, you will observe a body slumped against a wall with a shovel having cleaved its head. As you step into the room, the body suddenly slumps. Later, near the hearse, there is a cupboard that clatters open, probably on a wire, with nobody visible to move it.

The Bad

Easily the least effective scare in the Manor is a winding hallway with walls of plywood. A teenage boy in this hall has the unenviable task of running back and forth to several hidden windows, throwing them open, and yelling “Boo” or something similar. This part of the house is ineffective simply because it lacks the verisimilitude of everything else . Every other actor is dressed up as some character, the ghost of a Confederate soldier or other Southerner who had the misfortune to die under a curse. This kid, however—although doing his level best—is just a guy yelling boo.

Conclusion

That, however, is one small misstep in what is otherwise an amazingly elaborate haunted house attraction. I will gladly go again next year, and I’d be willing to see the entire park instead of just one part of it. The care and love that went into it is obvious. The magical girl and I discussed its various parts, the ones we liked best and the ones we liked least, throughout our drive home. I think we were both impressed.

Also, something that didn’t preoccupy us, but that I appreciate in retrospect, is the security: The owners of this attraction clearly went to a lot of trouble to ensure that everyone had fun in safety.

My criticisms are few and mild: I would recommend finding a “theme” for the plywood hallway and the actor in it so it matches the rest of the house. I would also recommend that the people in the ticket booth and photo booth be in costume and in character to aid the immersion. Aside from that, this was a really cool haunted house and a really good time.

The park opens again tomorrow night (October 26th), so if anyone is in the area, I recommend checking it out.

Advisory

The official website for Nightmare in the Country indicates that is is appropriate for ages ten and up, but also strongly recommends that parents use their own discretion. I would hesitate to take a ten-year-old through the attraction, though anyone teenage or above could enjoy it. There is plenty of depiction of blood and dismemberment, fairly graphic though obviously fake.

Personally, my greatest concern about taking children through would be that they might strike the actors out of fear, which would likely get you kicked out (not touching the actors being heavily emphasized in the rules). During the walk-through, I noted that most of the jump scares happen at a distance or come from behind or to the side, indicating that the park gave some thought to the actors’ safety. The only jump scare I thought was dangerous was the barman leaning out of the fog—dangerous to him, I mean, since an especially jittery visitor could easily punch him.

I recommend this for adults rather than children, but I echo the official site in encouraging parents to use their own discretion.

Author: D. G. D. Davidson

D. G. D. Davidson is an archaeologist, librarian, Catholic, and magical girl enthusiast. He is the author of JAKE AND THE DYNAMO.