Zombie Joe's Tortured Souls: Threshold 2020 Review

Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre, North Hollywood, CA

The novel Coronavirus pandemic has been hard for everyone, but it has been especially difficult for events and the performing arts. Concerts, festivals, and live theater shows have had to cancel or postpone their shows throughout the year, and as the high rates of infection continue throughout the country with no immediate end or significant decrease in sight, these challenging circumstances will only continue to exacerbate the plight of live performances both large and small and their performers.

Over in North Hollywood, home to a thriving collective of local, independent theater venues, the situation is much the same. Theaters have been shut down since March under state orders, and though in the time since, some have been able to conduct lessons and educational experiences, the revenue generator of actually performing shows has remained suspended in limbo.

Enter the Halloween season. As many of you may know, during this time of year, we have frequented one particular establishment for the past several haunt seasons to take part in their cult favorite production. I’m referring, of course, to Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre and their Urban Death: Tour of Terror attraction. A part maze walkthrough and part black box theater performance, this show has thrilled and chilled and disturbed and entertained a growing audience time and time again. But with statewide COVID-19 restrictions still barring theatrical shows and Los Angeles County health guidelines strictly prohibiting haunted houses, how could Zombie and company put together any offering for this most unusual of Halloween seasons?

Warren Hall as the remnants of Charles Stickman.
(Photo courtesy of Zombie Joe’s Underground Theater.)

Well, the answer involves a little bit of creativity; some working with, between, and around the local regulations; and the formulation of a whole different kind of experience than what Zombie Joe normally produces. And the result is Tortured Souls: Threshold.

Tortured Souls is actually a series that Zombie Joe’s has put on in the past—previously with a larger cast of characters, each telling their own sorrowing story of eternal damnation—taking place within ZJU’s intimate black box theater. But this iteration is a different production entirely—a “peek-in” through portals (the thresholds) to observe scenes of morbid eternity, cycling through themselves, linking to a tragic story of rejected hubris, love lost, and supernatural revenge. Guests literally stand in a covered outdoor space, peering through the doorway of the building, gazing into a scene. In this way, guests maintain position in a safer outdoor environment, while the actors remain indoors, noticeably separated from the audience.

[Warning: Hazy spoilers begin here.]

The play is a story in two acts. The beginning starts at the end, in a sort of epilogue-like scene. As guests peer through the portal, they find a bizarre yet striking sight. In a rare opportunity of creative and eye-catching set design, network of ducting branches over the space, spreading like tendrils here and there, with dim lights glowing at the end of the open arteries. A lone Edison light hangs in the middle, illuminating what looks to be a body below, shrouded in crimson. Is it blood? Or perhaps a dress? It’s hard to tell as the eyes adjust to the lack of light within this cavern that feels like an abstracted, utility systems manifestation of a grotto.

In taking in the scene, guests may not notice the movement in the background, as a figure silently drops to a perch, and slowly makes its way across the space. Wrapped in gauze and slight fabric, bony and bruised frame arched with tension, the creature (played with hauntingly deliberate purpose by the chilling Warren Hall) crawls and skulks its way closer and closer, looking like a miserable, nude Gollum gnashed with a Mad Max aesthetic. Slowly, cautiously, deliberately, it stretches out, clambering onto hidden outcroppings. A sense of apprehension builds as it gets closer and closer, nearing the body—and the audience.

Ultimately, this hideous fiend reaches the lifeless figure on the floor, grasping at and pulling and wrenching it in a disfiguring, emotionally-strained cacophony of jarbled discord. The scene is a paralyzing abomination—is this an instance of corpse mutilation? Or mourning? It’s hard to tell. But at a sudden stir, the creature looks up as though sensing an intruder, and then scatters. And the viewers are left to process what has just been witnessed.

Faydakin as Curson, the narrator.
(Photo courtesy of Zombie Joe’s Underground Theater.)

At that moment, a cane-wielding gentleman dressed in black approaches and beckons. This is Curson, the narrator (played by the dashing Faydakin), and he explains that what has just been witnessed. As the viewers follow the minstrel-esque host down the sidewalk and around the corner to the back of the theater, they receive a backstory to the bizarre previous sequence. You see, at that threshold had been a cycling scene of aftermath—the result of a Union lieutenant colonel—one Charles Stickman—and a scorned infatuation that resulted in tragedy. Guests are then brought to the backstage door off the rear parking lot to view the second half.

Here, time has regressed, and we see object of Stickman’s desires. A beautiful and dashing famed theater dancer, Elena (played by the incomparable Elif Savas), haunts this threshold. Wearing a flowing red gown, she twirls and hovers across the space. Dancing to the chords of something macabre, she performs her side of the story, abstractly representing first her background, then her encounters with Charles, and then her ultimate fate.

Her movements change as the scene progresses and the tone darkens—shifting from fluid, classical moves to rhythmic, intimate gestures to sudden, violent motions. At one point she is pulled away by an unseen force—an incredible moment that seems to be the product of special effects or wire-assisted motion, but which is really just the product of Elif’s own athleticism and muscle movement to achieve a jarring illusion. And then, it ends. And the viewers are left to process the scene as they are taken back to the front of Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre.

[End of hazy spoilers.]

Elif Savas as Elena, the tragic dancer.
(Photo courtesy of Zombie Joe’s Underground Theater.)

Tortured Souls: Threshold is definitely a one-of-a-kind Zombie Joe’s show that breaks the mold of most of their horror performances (at least the ones that we have viewed). Rather than flash through a series of shocking, horrifying, and twisted vignettes unrelated to each other, this show actually features a story and a timeline. A mystery is unveiled, set, and then explored. And the finale leaves guests wanting more. What else happened, and what were the exact sequence of events that led from the scenes witnessed in the second portal to the first?

Elaboration is limited due to the nature of this performance, however. Zombie Joe’s Underground Theater only has two doors—one in front, and one in back. This means only two acts to explore the storyline, really. But in retrospect, I think it would have been nice to compact the first act a little and utilize the framed view and obscured offstage to switch through additional scenes, perhaps employing the use of another actor to pair with Elif’s Elena representing a younger, more human Charles. Each scene could be separated by the actors moving out of frame, almost like a cinematic wipe transition.

That said, the heart of the performance lies with the actors, and to that end, Warren Hall and Elif Savas present a pair of haunting leads who jar the mind in their own, unique ways. Hall as a creature beyond the definition of human, moving with disjointed and unnerving purpose; Savas as a diva and damsel from the height of her fame to her frenetic end. Their performances are achieved almost entirely in their movements and body language and facial expressions, which are so emotive and wraught with the weight of their destinies. Faydakin, in contrast, dispenses storytelling charisma and a bit of Ren Faire flair as the host, filling in the story as guests move from one threshold to the other and wrapping up the tragedy with grim repose.

As a result, Tortured Souls: Threshold offers a different strain of emotional toil compared to Zombie Joe’s usual Halloween time offerings. Less about shock and awe and more about a slow, psychological build and creep, it’s mean to stick with a viewer a little deeper—a dagger under the skin as opposed to a blunt bludgeon. And this seems fitting for 2020. In a weird and atypical year, Zombie Joe appropriately serves a weird and atypical haunt—even by their standards!

(Image courtesy of Zombie Joe’s Underground Theatre.)

Zombie Joe’s Tortured Souls: Threshold is scheduled to run Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday evenings, starting tonight, October 21st, through November 1st. Tickets must be made via advanced reservations and cost $35 for a two-person private group time slot. Guests must be 18 years of age or older to participate, must sign a general release of liability waiver upon arrival, and must wear a face covering properly over the mouth and nose at all times. Visit Zombie Joe’s web site for reservations and more information.

Groups are limited to two people from the same group/household in order to limit capacity and maintain social distance across disparate guests. The actors are masked anytime they were even remotely close to the 6 ft social distance magi number. Audience members are never indoors, and though they are shielded and partially covered in their outdoor viewing position, it’s never anything that feels uncomfortable or unsafe. There is no contact, though hand sanitizer is offered before and after the show as an extra and optional safeguard. So as far as COVID-19 safeguards go, Zombie Joe’s certainly has put a good amount of thought into maintaining the most ideal conditions under the circumstances

All in all, this is a very unique show, and it’s a great way to support ZJU and the performers who have struggled during this time of effective unemployment. Make a reservation before they sell out!