Bela Lugosi wore the cape in Dracula in 1931 and kept it for the rest of his life. Now it hangs in a gallery in Los Angeles. So does the ax from The Shining. And the teacup from Get Out. The Academy Museum of Motion Pictures has put nearly 400 horror artifacts into one show. David Mermelstein, in Tuesday's Journal, calls it thrilling. It runs through July 25, 2027. Halloween is a fine excuse to go.
The museum opened in late 2021, after long delays, and the reviews were mostly harsh. Renzo Piano's floor plan feels cramped. Critics also said the museum gave too little room to Hollywood's mostly Jewish founders. There have been hits since, including a 2022 survey of African-American cinema. Mr. Mermelstein adds this show to the list of hits, and the crowds back him up. On a recent weekday afternoon the galleries were packed with people of all ages. That's the crowd this museum was built for and rarely got.
Curators Jessica Niebel and Nicholas Barlow sorted the hoard into six galleries. Gothic, Psychological, Science, Slasher, Religion and Ghosts. You can go straight to the films you love and walk past the rooms that scare you. The Science room has the operating table from Young Frankenstein near a ball-and-chain used in both Frankenstein and its 1935 sequel. The Gothic room has a prop bat from Dracula so fragile it'll be pulled before the show closes. The Psychological room has the ax from The Shining, plus Hannibal Lecter's orange jumpsuit and handcart. The Slasher room has a Leatherface mask, a Freddy Krueger outfit and, yes, the hacksaw from Saw.
The blood room, and the budget
The exit runs through a “blood room.” Nothing is wet, the critic promises. Watch your step anyway. He closes with a note on the genre itself. Old horror worked on the imagination. New horror works on the gut. Either way, people are coming, and that's the point of a museum.
Our read
This is a day out, and days out are a cash-flow story (Cash Flow · M5). The review doesn't print a ticket price, so we won't guess one. We'll just say what we tell every family in October. The ticket is never the cost. Parking, lunch, the gift shop and the drive home are the cost. A museum outing has a way of doubling between the front door and the car. The fix is a number, agreed on in the kitchen, before anyone finds their keys.
The concrete thing is your fun-money line, the one that pays for this kind of day. This week, add up what last month's outings really cost, with the extras, and compare it with the line. If the line doesn't exist, make one. Then go see the cape. Lugosi kept it for life, which is the oldest money habit there is. You find the umbrella on a sunny day. Bring the number and we'll fit it into the month.