True Terror II Makes a Welcome Return – A La Casa de Satanas Review
A misting rain slowly slicks me down as I stand on a barren residential street in Chicago. I’m here to find the first location of True Terror II, the latest immersive horror incarnation of La Casa de Satanas – the 12th event from the company in their 7 year history, but the first sequel to a previous show.
I find the door from a fairly obvious sign I hadn’t noticed immediately and enter what is clearly someone’s home to start the check-in process – tracks from the score to Suspiria play on a loop as I write “my greatest hopes and dreams that I would die for” on a sticky note I must keep with me from that moment onward.
Did I mention I was alone? Immersive horror has made me so paranoid I’ll be late I can’t help but show up 15 to 20 minutes before my scheduled time. Thankfully (?), my soon-to-be companions on this journey arrive and get situated. After the brief rundown of the rules we head off to our destination: “a right on Damen Ave. and a left at the first alley,” directions our nervous group wasn’t 100% sure we had correct as we followed them.
The location is quite well-marked and, with no instruction, we open the door and enter a darkened home. We are greeted by a candle on the floor and the Devil herself rushing at us at the top of the staircase, yelling at us to go back down and face the wall. Cursing and taunting us from behind, our heads are bagged one by one and we are taken up the stairs and placed in a room.
“Who here has hopes and dreams still in their pocket?” A woman with a heavy Eastern European accent asks the room.
Shit. That’s why that person’s hand was in my pocket moments ago.
I, and at least one other person that I can tell from the footsteps around us, am left on my knees while some of my companions are off to a life presumably to fulfill or crush those dreams. I can hear the woman discussing something with my former companions briefly before my own torment begins. In what has to be one of the most nerve-racking scenes I’ve ever experienced in a haunt, another participant and I are left alone and the sound of device I can only describe as an electrical current slowly and audibly building up fills the room and rattles my nerves. Over the course of a few minutes (but it felt MUCH longer), the sound of this device reaching its high-pitched peak is pure terror – I’ve been to enough extreme haunts to have a very good idea of what COULD happen. La Case de Satanas hits absolute perfection in this moment of letting my brain fill in the terror.
Unfortunately, immediately after this moment I am told to crawl to a new location while still blindfolded – trusting the actor’s request, I move in the direction as told and bash my head into a door frame. I’m fairly forgiving of these types of incidents, but this one is particularly aggravating. They are telling me to move forward and I falsely assume they are going to keep me on the right path – you know, because I’m blind here.
I can thankfully say, almost immediately, someone grabs my neck with gentle but specific guiding to get me where I need to be. And it’s not just where I need to be – with my hopes and dreams now gone – it’s where I belong.
We rejoin our former companions who seem to be having a much better time with strippers and all the cash they could throw at them. I no longer belong in their world – unless they have worked up an appetite from their debauchery. That I can be of service to. I am here to serve them, the 1%, the ones who still have hopes and dreams in their pockets – and cash. Enough cash to throw endlessly at the exhausted women dancing before them. This party isn’t for me – it never will be.
As the theme of social inequality becomes clear, it just as quickly disappears when the rich and poor are united in the one group and find ourselves in a chapel. It is a sparse but absolutely impressive set design punctuated by a podium emblazed with the Apple logo. We are met with a preacher whose erratic movements keep us uneasy as to who he will single out next. . Disappointingly, this is where it becomes clear that La Casa de Satanas plans to zero in on the most animatedly scared of our group, only briefly interacting with those of us that don’t make our anxiety as visible. This limited focus continues for the rest of the experience with the same participants getting the majority of the actors’ attention.
After a brief baptism that I can only assume is much more intense with the “extreme ticket” option they offer on select nights, we move on to yet another room, one that I can’t help but be awe-struck by due to its design and lighting. Clearly, this bathroom has been a home for the creature inviting us to add to the collection of artwork scattered along the floor and walls with a very personal type of paint.
But there is more to it than just finger painting – each piece is a judgement of our mental hang-ups, complete with a doctor on hand to whisk us away for our isolation treatment. Five group members – three isolation chambers. You do the math. As the only member of our group who ends up in the box solo I am largely left to my own devices; I can hear the alternating bursts of laughter and yelps of fear coming from the chambers around me as the doctor administers treatment to my fellow participants. When I’m finally ripped out of the chamber, the rest of the group is already huddled together on the floor – well, tied together is more accurate – humping and moaning at the doctor’s orders. I hover over them and am handed a reasonably-sized silicone phallus that the doctor wants me to “fuck these guys into shape with.” So, fuck I do.
When the mock orgy ends, a chaotic scene unfolds as all five of us, cramped and mostly tied together, are ordered to crawl through the doorway. The unpredictability of five (arguably) grown men trying to achieve a simple goal of crawling through a narrow doorway as fast as we can is as fun as it is ridiculous.
When we make it to our destination, we find ourselves in a space I can only describe as “how the fuck did you achieve this ambience in a bedroom?” aesthetic. The jaw-dropping detailing of the props and lighting make the previous rooms of the haunt pale by comparison; this room feels truly otherworldly in every sense. La Casa de Satanas’ creator, Amelia De Rudder, holds a performance artist background, and it’s scenes like this where her talent shines. An outright battle of masculine- and feminine- representing creatures takes place before us until a victor survives and encourages us to embrace the kill and energy of her accomplishments. Since De Rudder herself performs in this scene, it feels deserved to be proud of this moment we witness. If the entire experience had this amount of dedication to detail, artistry, and control, La Casa de Satanas could be undeniably masterful.
La Casa de Satanas is a unique experience among the existing and growing immersive horror scene in Chicago. De Ruder built the company from the ground up with artists at the helm, and their talents shine in the set design and their atypical approach to immersive horror scenarios. But this also might be where the experience suffers. Without a clear connection of how each scene relates to each other, the experience consists of a seemingly random series of events with no thematic, literary, or tonal through line. Additionally, the sometimes shoddy handling of audience members can result in minor but no less irritating unintended injuries, like the very visible bruise on my bald head. As is, True Terror II switches drastically from heavy and terrifying to campy to cerebral. While the experience is a mixed bag, it works quite well more often than it doesn’t, but I can’t help but think that if they chose a consistent tone or storyline, La Casa de Satanas is on the cusp of reaching horrifying heights.
True Terror II has finished its run. For more information on La Casa de Satanas, see their Instagram and Facebook page. Check out our Event Guide for more immersive and horror entertainment throughout the year.
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yikes.