“I really need this Dobby shift to work out…”
I always volunteer to lead the line when I’m walking through scare mazes. It’s not some ploy to prove my masculinity or because I think that it’s less scary in the front. I lead the line because I am genuinely and utterly fascinated by the scare actors that work at seasonal Halloween events.
How did they get this job? What was the audition process like? Will I see them again in 1 month for seasonal Christmas events?
My years long fascination with scare actors came to a crescendo as I peered into the Knott’s Scary Farm break room a few weeks ago while in line for a rollercoaster. Peering back at me from that unmarked and not very well hidden building was a ghoul (or perhaps, a zombie) in full makeup eating a sandwich. Across from her was a 1920’s bootlegger with a gash on his ghostly face drinking a Pepsi.
Who was this ghoul? Did she have hopes and dreams? Does she dislike her “ghoul” understudy?
What kind of sandwich was she eating?
I’m drawn to characters that possess two different identities: their authentic self and the version of themselves that they present to others. I’m especially drawn to characters who are struggling with both of these identities.
Most scare actors, I imagine, are incredibly gifted and artistic individuals, clearly skilled in performance and movement. Maybe they’re working actors and do this gig every October. Maybe they were the lead in a play once. Perhaps the audience couldn’t take their eyes off of them. But once their makeup is done and fake blood is spread onto their clothing, they’re unsettling to look at. As a scare actor, their primary goal as performers is for you NOT to look at them. How peculiar.
So how does Dobby fit into all of this? Where did the idea for a film about a sad and desperate seasonal scare actor having a bad day come from? The image of a ghoul eating a sandwich on her lunch break sent me into a creative spiral. Immediately the idea of that woman calling out sick while in full ghoul makeup popped into my head. How hauntingly beautiful, and ripe for comedic potential.
I quickly drafted a few phone conversations that this character could potentially have, scouted out a location near my apartment with a payphone and volunteered my friends to act as the ensemble of characters.
The decision to change the character from a standard Spirit Halloween ghoul into Dobby came from my buddy Alan. There’s no deeper meaning to having our scare actor wear a Dobby costume by the way. Don’t go searching for a metaphor because you won’t find it. I just thought it’d be silly. Thanks for letting me know that Amazon was selling Dobby costumes, Alan.
So I hope you enjoy this silly little short film. And maybe, just maybe, in 11 months time, I’ll see you at Knott’s Scary Farm courageously leading your line into a scare maze full of scare actors. But this time, when they jump out from behind a wall of decapitated heads, you’ll look deep into their eyes and recognize that underneath all that ghoul makeup and fake blood is a person. A human being. Someone who just barely had enough rides on their bus pass to make it into work that evening.
