The Dungeon Beckons...

A sublime little place known as The York Dungeon will be absorbing my thoughts more and more over the coming months, so I thought that it only seemed fair to grant it a proper introduction! I think it's also fair to say that it's going to take precedent over the Dickens show for a quite considerable span of physical deprivation, vocal trauma and blissfully early nights. However, I have a hunch - in the figurative sense this time - that there are enough crossovers between Dickens and the Dungeon to make balancing the two projects a useful and interesting exercise. As long as I manage to keep a regular log of my Dungeon experiences, I'll have a good crack at chalking in the tenuous connections between the two, and possibly even probe the potential for each to help the other up to some mutual plane of improvement.

Now, if you're ignorant of the existence of The York Dungeon - then pity to you, my dearest friend, you simply have not lived. It's the establishment that I'll be working in this summer: the North's premier museum of horror; a grand haunt for elegant ghosts; a Dante's Inferno for the new millennium. From my unrepentantly prejudiced perspective, it's a seminal institution, and responsible for playing a singularly happy part in my life. How could it be otherwise? It unites so many things that fire my passions! The most unpleasant and slime-infested corners of English history! The carnival magic of the classic ghost train! The wanton gimmickry of the circus freak show! Good theatre in the magnificent tradition of Victorian melodrama! The glut and gore of the Grand Guignol! And, well-suited to the purposes of this blog, a more than usually healthy dollop of character acting. Splendid! So, with no further ado, I'll introduce you to a few very important people. I'll be spending my time at the Dungeon in the person of seven (and possibly even eight) different characters. In chronological order, then:

WILLIAM: The plague doctor's assistant. Fawning, acidic and more than a little camp. Enjoys full-frontal dismemberment and curing people with large wooden mallets.
THE INNKEEPER: The publican of The Golden Fleece, the most haunted pub in Yorkshire. Dour and lethargic, yet volatile in the extreme. Enjoys spreading tales of sheep molestation and vanishing in well-timed blackouts.
THE ROMAN CENTURION: A lost soul imprisoned beneath York Minster. Self-absorbed, blustering and firm in his duty. Enjoys misquoting Shakespeare and coercing others into situations of mild peril.
THE VIKING: A ruthless invader washed up on Saxon shores. Unspeakably deranged and aggressive. Enjoys worshipping Eric Bloodaxe and mispronouncing Norwegian. I have an unsettling feeling that this character has been obliterated in the recent refurbishment, but we'll see what happens...!
LORD CHIEF JUSTICE JUDGE VENABLES VERNON HARCOURT THE FIFTH: More commonly known as the Judge. A poisonous toad spewing venom from afar. Enjoys inadvertently spitting from a great height and a spot of low-key cross-gender prostitution.
THE TORTURER: The horrible heart of the Dungeon. Perverse, sadistic and irredeemably evil. Enjoys rats that nibble and leakings that resemble rich fountains of strawberry jelly.
THOMAS HADFIELD: Colleague turned hangman of infamous highwayman Dick Turpin. Petty, aggressive and intrinsically jealous. Enjoys stealing clothing and repeating his own name at dramatic moments.
THE WITCH-PRICKER: I am yet to meet this particular character! However, I am assured that he gets his kicks from handing out scrolls, enclosing the general public in sheep-pens and burning heretics. Fun, fun, fun!

This year's Dungeon opus began an almost fantastically well-judged five minutes before the end of my last supervision of term - a miracle made possible by the unholy medium of wireless telephone. An additional five minutes and a hasty redial later, I was in touch with my boss, who wanted to check if I was still interested in returning for the summer. Blimey, you bet I was interested! A bit more recently, I received another phone call divesting dates of vital importance. A few days of rehearsal and training first - and then the official start date! I'm told that I'll be joined in training by Dan Elmes, a jolly nice chap and a wonderful actor (unless he's been kicked out since I last saw him, he'll have just finished his second year at the Birmingham School of Acting). I've also been darkly forewarned to bring some black shoes, which in my experience is proof positive that you'll wind up on the floor and working with the public come afternoon. This will most likely involve 'ghosting' a current Dungeon actor. No term could be more appropriate; last year this involved muttering quietly to myself in a corner, trying to learn from the proper actor's shows as tourists gestured in my direction and asked if I was the walking corpse of the recently interred Michael Jackson - no doubt resurrected Thriller-style for their dubious entertainment. But with a bit of luck, this slight awkwardness will build into trying out the shows myself towards the end of the day! Whilst most of the scripts have undergone changes and developments of one sort or another, I'm hoping that the thespian equivalent of muscle memory will kick in at some point. Surely it's impossible to shower tourists in chlorine, hound them through a mirror maze and expertly manipulate the chappy chopper on literally hundreds of occasions without at least some of the old patterns staying ingrained. I'm aware that there's a danger here of flesh-and-blood characters, no matter how outlandish, degenerating by turns into robots, going through the motions mechanically in a vain attempt to recapture the last really 'good' performance. This is a constant battle for the Dungeon's disciples - and one that is happily reduced by the attraction's constant redevelopments, as well as the more urgent changing demands of each audience.

In the same spirit of fragment-orientated sharing of the Dungeon experience, I'll acquaint you with some of the lines that caught my fancy when I was reading through the new scripts. They're sort of amusing, in a gimmicky and ridiculous way... Aw, to hell with the pretence - they infuse my heart with surge after surge of renewed warmth! This great joy I pass down to you now!

As for the groin, you can check that yourselves... Last time I tried to check people there was... trouble. - when inspecting for symptoms of the plague.

I like pulling out the bits. - whilst hovering over a spread-eagled corpse.

So the lever gets pulled, the trapdoor falls, one feller drops to his death, and Curry drops onto a big pile of... well... what sloshes out of people as they get hanged. - recounting the dignified demise of William Brown.

You! What is your name? Steve...? You are Steve no longer! Henceforth you shall be known as Stevus Tiberius Maximus, centurion of Rome! All hail Stevus! - ruining Steve's life forevermore.

HVIS DU ER NORSK, BEKLAGER JEG FOR UTTALEN MIN... OG JEG ER REDD DENNE SETNINGEN ER ALT JEG KAN! - making a necessary Viking apology.

There was a clap of thunder, a flash of lightning and a big pink puff... of smoke, and this chap here appeared. - challenging the plaintiff's security in their masculinity.

My book tells me that you were seen on Grape Lane, dressed in a long blonde wig, a pink dress and a bit of lippy. You were mincing about with a sign round your neck proclaiming 'Get it here'. - telling off a diseased and scrofulous gentleman.

The tongue is then usually fed back to the victim as I watch them drowning on their own blood. - after demonstrating the tongue tearer.

It was designed with the ladies in mind and you can only use it twice... - wielding a highly suggestive torture implement.

The old fellow, he don’t want to say, so Turpin quick as a flash pulls down the old man’s breeches and starts whacking his bare bottom with his flintlock. - recounting the glamorous life of the highwayman.

Thou hast a black cat and thou lives on the hill! - providing cast-iron evidence for witchery.

In the absence of some enchanting multimedia romp through the addled extremities of my brain, I went a-hunting on YouTube for a rough equivalent. So, with all the pep, vigour and appropriated whimsy of someone who's only just worked out how to embed videos into blog entries, here is what I consider to be the finest representation of the Dungeon experience on the Internet:



I do have a few gripes with it. For starters, it's a little irritating to find the staff rechristened as 'scare actors'. Why, that suggests there's no more to the job than chasing customers down corridors with a chainsaw and hockey mask accessory! Nothing could be further from the truth. The presenter is well-meaning enough, and really quite active in promoting the cause of horror attractions in Britain (more power to him!), but his happy-go-lucky demeanour shouldn't be taken as a reflection of the typical Dungeon experience. It also has to be said that the sets, costumes and makeup only look about half as good as should do here. As with all such attractions, they're designed to be seen through an unearthly diffusive screen of billowing smoke, ultraviolet lighting and prevailing dimness. An invasive smattering of bright light is needed to get a place as pitchy black as the Dungeon on film at all, and that accounts for the very dark shadows cast throughout the film. But all of these deficiencies are surmounted by the absolute loveliness of seeing so much pro-shot footage of the Dungeon, flaunting its crisp, digitised glory for the world to see! Plus you get to see glimpses of some of the legendary Dungeon actors! The grey-bearded chap carrying the lantern is Bryan - the only person I've ever encountered who can reduce a room to helpless laughter with no more than a guttural, half-drunken croaking noise. That's Carl in the judge's wig, looking an absolute nutter and getting to deliver the legendary 'bonking' line for prosperity. In the cloth cap with the bottle of leeches is Mark, one of the most infectiously enthusiastic people under the sun and renowned for sniffing people's faces in the midst of his shows... A disarmingly creepy tactic.

As impressive as the special effects may be - the new witch-burning attraction, led here by the ever-chilling Adam Seymour (a friend of Will Seaward, improbably enough!), is looking particularly impressive - it's the actors who remain the core of the Dungeon. With the annual tweaks, developments and advances that the Dungeon inevitably undergoes, it's this core team of performers who keep the holy candle of the macabre burning and retain the place's soul. Without them, it would be no more than a glorified Chamber of Horrors.

What a privilege to return to this horrid happy family!