Lake George isn’t known for cinematic horror. Nestled in the Adirondack region of upstate New York, it’s main draw is natural beauty and an abundance of outdoor activities. An onslaught of hotels, motels, and gimmicky restaurants wait to serve demanding tourists during their scenic getaways. Yet since the early 1970’s, a genuine wax museum has been stapled into its cultural fabric. Not just any wax museum– a horror wax museum.
If you’re brave enough to enter the open glass doors, a casket and a jarring voice drifting from a stiff robotic crow greets you. Once you get your bearings, you’ll notice horror sculpts and figurines displayed in a glass cabinet to the left. An impressive mad scientist laboratory tableau occupies the front window display, complete with electrode sound effects. An alert front desk employee sits beside the doorway to the horrors, permeating confusion. Their expression was almost questioning, as if to ask why any normal person would want to pay for such an experience.
By many accounts, I am not a normal person, and felt no shame in forking over my cash with a smile.
After reading the rules as requested, you step through the dark doorway and up the haunted stairs. The foyer was but a taste for what was to come. These damn stairs had it all. Flickering lights, creaking sounds, garish brick patterns on the walls, the works! But even with all the atmospheric warnings and decorations, I was unprepared for just how dark things would get.
This museum was pitch black. As in there was barely any fucking light. I had to feel for the walls like a blinded Scooby Doo character as soon as I cleared the stairs. And it was fantastic.
House of Frankenstein lived up to its name. The wax displays were incased in small, individual rooms with a glass panel (or bars) protecting it from handsy visitors. Some scenes were button-activated, and the rest were on a loop. It held all the trademark figures one could expect. Classic monsters like ghosts, zombies, and vampires gave it dated charm. Famous literary figures like the Phantom of the Opera, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, and even Poe himself lived in these blackened halls. Iconic slashers stood creepily still, surrounded by their movie-accurate settings. But what was most surprising and enchanting was seeing an old school torture/death section. If I’m being honest, the electric chair reinactment was dramatic as hell and a little bit disturbing.
It isn’t merely a wax museum, though. The building/hallway itself was designed to scare you. There’s a portion where the floor goes wonky. There are cheeky signs lit up to guide and unnerve you. You’ll see things behind you (or beside you) when you’re gazing at a monster. Because of this, it’s more attuned to being a haunt.
I relay all this with restraint, as I do hope you’ll visit for yourself when possible. Who wants the entire plot explained before they go see a movie? Even if the displays were subpar (they weren’t), the experience itself was frightening. You’re alone in a very dark, unfamiliar building with creepy wax figures staring back at you. It was one of the most effective “haunted attraction” experiences I’ve ever had. The amount of wax figures was impressive. Just when I thought the ride was over, I’d round another corner to find more. It was a horror history museum as well, told through the age and style of these figures that have stood for decades in the dark.
It was nothing short of delightful to step foot into this looming tourist trap on the main drag of this quant lake town. I felt transported into my favorite horror anthology, The House That Dripped Blood, the moment I saw the the mysterious organist in the upstairs window. I was that curious bystander who gets sucked into a house of horror, my own bravery damning me. I wanted to go back through immediately after finishing.
Before You Go:
Admission is $15. It may change seasonally.
The museum closes in November and reopens the following April.
https://frankensteinwaxmuseum.com/
Parking is available in public lots or on the street. You can pay for the meters via app.
Photos are permitted, with the exception of flash photography.
Haunted by Deadlines 