Hollywood's Halloween Horror Nights 2023: Surprises, Scares, And A Full House Rundown

Has there ever been a more hypable roster of haunted houses to grace Hollywood's Halloween Horror Nights? I don't mean to spew hyperbole; that's a genuine question. Maybe it's my specific horror taste showing. I adored "Evil Dead Rise," have a soft spot for holiday-themed horror, consider Chucky my favorite slasher icon, and think the world of "The Last of Us" as both a game and a series. Anticipation came easier than usual for this year's Horror Nights event, especially with a side quest to score one of 2023's signature voice-activated Chucky popcorn buckets.

As always, I diligently braved every haunted house and the Terror Tram experience. This year also featured an exclusive Blumhouse performance that boiled down to promo clips and "M3GAN" dancers, along with a "The Purge" water show at the "Waterworld" venue, but you're here for the skinny on every "hopefully" terrifying walkthrough. This year I'm putting my criticism hat back on as per captain's orders and evaluating each house not only on scare tactics, but storytelling execution and production design (like reviewing a movie's cinematography or other technical merits). Spooky is good, but total immersion sets the best houses apart — and this year was no different.

Chucky: Ultimate Kill Count is like a museum waltz through Charles Lee Ray's dielight reel. Chucky narrates you through rooms containing spotlight kills from both USA & SYFY's series and the films, but there's no real rhyme or reason. We start in the Play Pals toy factory (Good Guys Factory! according to the entry facade) where an eye-bulging victim pays homage to "Child's Play 2" — but then we pass another corpse that looks like Chief Warren Kincaid from "Bride of Chucky"? 

The TV series gets prime placement as focal environments are Home, Hospital, and Christmas, which makes the scattered movie references feel a bit random. There are also minimal scare actors (none as Chucky), so the haunted house feels more like one of those Christmas display walkthroughs except with rather unfortunate Devon Sawa dummies and way more stabbings. Continuity is an afterthought, feeling more like promotional material versus a terrifying confrontation with Chucky and his family.

The haunted house ultimately earns forgiveness because all the Chucky dolls are animatronic. Scare actors are replaced with emotive, seemingly possessed Chucky replications that lunge from Good Guy boxes, swing chainsaws under fireplaces, and show glimpses of the puppeteering magic that brings Chucky to life time and again. Those with vested interests in Chucky's filmography and television seasons will be tickled by violent Easter eggs aimed at superfans, but others may struggle with a haunted house that isn't very scary. The only jump scares come during the exit portion, where every iteration of Chucky — including a Chucky Kaiju — attacks from all angles, but even then those horrors are muted. Chucky: Ultimate Kill Count is for the fans, lifted by superstrengths called animatronics and nostalgia.

Blumhouse's spotlight house this year is "The Exorcist: Believer," an experience that has me infinitely more excited for the movie (as long as the house's storyline is more prominent than current marketing teases). It accomplishes what I hope the film does: surprising the (almost literal) piss out of me. Trailers for David Gordon Green's sequel to "The Exorcist" haven't showcased any demons and primarily focus on a double possession, but Universal's house invests heavily in Haitian aesthetics, from narrative folklore to drum-beating soundtracks. "The Exorcist: Believer" house had every possibility of being a rehash of existing "The Exorcist" house models (reused last year), yet everything feels viciously fresh and immersively unique — which hopefully the film mirrors.

Shockingly, "The Exorcist: Believer" ended as my favorite house because of its mounting descent into thickly maddening atmospheres. Universal architects think of everything, down to the putrid stench of stable dung as you walk by a massacre scene amidst dead livestock or trick walls that reveal two-way mirrors with demonic children staring through your soul. It's a disorienting sensory overload as a combination of saturating red lights, the rhythmic chorus of "The body and the blood," and other nifty details like blacklight messages that vanish all form an unsettling chokehold of fear. We also get what may be our first glimpse of the film's demon — should the horned bastard not be a house-exclusive monster — whose first impression makes an A+ jolt of adrenaline. Pacing, theming, and production designs are aces, transporting patrons into a hellish purgatory far scarier than some pea-soup vomit.

A "Stranger Things" house at Halloween Horror Nights is as predictable as another season of "Stranger Things." I just wish "Stranger Things 4" felt as momentous as the show. 

This is one of those houses that pays more attention to what's happening around walkers than what's happening to us, and is built on recreating keynote scenes from "Stranger Things" season 4. You'll see Chrissy levitate, venture into the Creel House, and witness Eleven defeat Vecna once more — but it's a relatively speedy fast-forward through clip-show familiarity. Kudos to practical effects that spark an especially electrified moment as Eleven helps you escape a familiar bunker or make you touch icky Upside Down tendrils, but everything feels surface value. When Dr. Martin Brenner or the Stranger Things teens are the ones frequently trying to scare you by jumping from behind doors, something's wrong. 

You won't even hear Kate Bush or Metallica except outside when you're waiting in line, which feels like a massively missed opportunity (the Eddie Munson guitar scene erasure is real, only in Orlando). "Stranger Things 4" is a house begging for more space, delivering jammed-together IP goodies to the masses like there's a contractual obligation to fill.

Naughty Dog and HBO should be proud of Universal's "The Last of Us" house by the way it captures a flowing narrative that summons palpable dread and survival anxiety. Actors dressed as Ellie and Joel project each character's personality, and storytelling strives to establish their relationship instead of just launching into Clicker assaults. Starting the maze with one of Ellie's corniest jokes is a wise choice, as string-plucking, back-porch-chillin' music welcomes you into the Pittsburg Military Zone. You learn about the fungal infection, what creates Clickers, and why humans are just as dangerous while falling head-first into "The Last of Us" setpieces as chaos ramps.

What makes the house stand out is a flair for both the dramatic and devastating. Strobe lights and loud bangs make it seem like you're rushing through machine gun crossfire, heightening our heart rate before the infected monsters arrive. Then Clickers start attacking as scare actors with applied makeup turn the sewer portion of the house into a dimly lit fungal freakshow. Everything crescendos as the attention to Clicker detail leads into a full-body-suit Bloater encounter where it tears a victim's jaw at the hinges, and when you pass, you get spritzed with "blood gush" in the form of Universal's updated obsession with water squirters. It's an all-hands house that utilizes everything from visual impairment to creature costuming so well, bringing screens to life through the art of Halloween craftwork.

Another trip to the backlot, another moderately amusing attempt to redress the Bates Motel — now the Motel de las Cucarachas — and other staged shooting locations with a new Halloween Horror Nights theme like a midrange remake. This year's tour guide is Larry Larva, an exterminator with buggy eyes and sideburns whose business is killing humans and protecting insects. You walk through the same Universal landmarks, except now it's humanoid wasps, spiders, and rodents carrying chainsaws as you pass by "Fast & Furious" roadsters. It's a pleasant stroll through the outdoors for a change, but you've seen this and done that a million times over by now if you've been to Halloween Horror Nights. Although, I'll admit these bug-people masks are more fun than previous iterations of made-up "Terror Tram" hijackers — and beware Spider Alley, arachnophobes. It's really not bad at all, given the Party City quality decor, but fair warning.

It's the Terror Tram. You know what to expect at this point. When you need a break from the big-dawg houses, you ride to the backlot. Sometimes you need a cool-down selection in a movie marathon — that's what the Terror Tram is for Halloween Horror Nights.

What should have been one of my favorite houses is instead one of my least favorite. Taking over that underwhelming "The Walking Dead" space this year is "Evil Dead Rise," which doesn't inspire much confidence for whatever occupies the same area next. Repetition is a killer as you walk through the recreation of a doomed Los Angeles apartment complex that reuses the same "Deadites burst from behind closed unit doors" gimmick hallway after hallway. Where "Evil Dead Rise" brought buckets of gore and gonzo energy, its Halloween Horror Nights house strips tremendous Deadite performances down to their most basic jump scare functions. Rooms feel too open versus the claustrophobic nature of Lee Cronin's movie, and attempts to deliver fan-favorite elements like the blood-spewing elevator or ​​Marauder creature are notably underwhelming (and rather missable). Frankly, the "Evil Dead Rise" haunted house is the first real miss for the "Evil Dead" franchise in my opinion.

Figureheads like Frankenstein and The Wolf Man typically hog Halloween Horror Nights glory in the "Universal Monsters" house, but this year, the second tier gets their spotlight.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the Phantom of the Opera, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, and the Invisible Man run loose through catacombs lined with cobwebby skulls that sell dreary Parisian undergrounds. Universal Monsters classics are known for their delightfully gothic production designs, which aren't lost as you shuffle past the Hunchback's gore-coated torture rack or visit Dr. Jekyll's Cabaret de la Mort through an entryway sculpted into a gigantic devil's mouth. The little touches delight like an organist smashing keys whenever the Phantom pops a jump scare or the Invisible Man threatening to steal my hat (I still can't tell if that was pre-recorded or an actor behind glass). 

There's a mature-rated "Halloweentown" thrill to it all that might not match "The Last of Us" in monster SFX, but nails fun-loving haunted house vibes. Think of it as an anthology more than a crossover since some icons outshine others in separate segments — and let the sweet sounds of an original Slash composition soothe your cold, dark soul.

"Holidayz in Hell" is like the "Slotherhouse" or "Dude Bro Party Massacre III' of Halloween Horror Nights. It gives you a bonkers title and commits so wholeheartedly to the bit. This is the house's second run after it premiered in 2019, and I couldn't be less troubled by the replay. Production design is like a land of misfit horror toys as designers have a blast turning the Easter Bunny or Thanksgiving turkeys into mutant massacre machines on their days of celebration. Innocence is blown to smithereens as a zombified Uncle Sam roasts flesh with fireworks explosions or leprechauns hunt ye travelers while Celtic jigs gleefully play, because "Holidayz in Hell" knows what it is. Screw realism — have a damn blast. It's the B-Movie of Halloween Horror Nights and is damn good at putting a smile on your face while Krampus chases you to the exit with a peppermint-handled axe in his ho-ho-hands. I'd be okay with this one being a yearly fixture in the same way syndication queues John Carpenter's "Halloween" on repeat every October.

You can tell when the Halloween Horror Nights crew is really digging an original concept because there's no wasted space. "Monstruos" brings to life monsters of Latin American mythologies with spectacular dedication to practical effects and grotesque set dressings. You start with Tiahulepuchi's transformation, enter La Lechuza's nest, and eventually find your way in EL Silbon's sack — all folklore I learned through narrations while admiring the bird-woman beasts and Pulquerias strung with a mix of pig and human intestinal decorations. You can learn so much from international horror imports, and "Monstruos" brings that illumination to boogeythings beyond more famous haunters like la Llorona. 

"Monstruos" doesn't conceal its hand either, as you're greeted early by a massive mechanical iteration of what I believe to be La Lechuza, squawking and traumatizing before you've even seen lair walls lined with presumably dead babies. As the best houses this year do, "Monstruos" goes all-in on theming and breaks the bank when it comes to valuing the creative artistry that goes into creating nightmarish entities from workshop scratch.