At 120 Cleland Drive, the illusion is all too real.
All around you are clowns. And we’re not talking childrens' party clowns either. We're talking horrific, nasty, frightening clowns – the type that haunt your nightmares.
Usually, they're engaged in brutal activities. Like roasting tiny humans over open fires. Or emerging from graves. Or reciting verses while threatening you with bloody bowling pins.
Three of them, perched way up on the roof, laugh manically after beheading a foe.
And they're not your standard-issue big-box clowns either. They're unique and for the most part devised and constructed on site. So you won't be seeing any of them at the house down the block.
But it's not just the clowns that convince you you're standing in the midst of the most bloodcurdling cemetery of all time.
It's the lighting too. Much of it is "uplighting," illuminating characters and objects from below to make them seem even creepier. And then there's the powerful lamp mounted to the pole high above the scene. It's meant to replicate lightning. And it's quite convincing, especially when paired with the sounds of thunder.
It's the "smoke," again created at ground level so it hovers menacingly around the bases of objects. It's the audio and the animatronics – much of if trigged by motion sensors as guests make their way across the property.
And finally, it's about the design. From the first time you glimpse "Cleland Clown Cemetery," as we'll nickname it in the absence of a real name, it seems so real.
Ultimately, it's one of the most unsettling yet impressive outdoor Halloween displays we've ever seen. And we didn’t even know it existed 'til a couple days ago.
"It's our fifth year," said homeowner and display mastermind David Clutterbuck Friday evening as he tweaked elements of the display.
"It’s the kids that do it. Every year you see more and more kids and they just seem to be happier and happier. So we add more. And then the parents get involved. And we add more."
Having said that, Clutterbuck does acknowledge that his unholy concoction may be too horrific for some.
"We have people even now who drive by and say their kids will have nightmares," he said. "And a lot of adults have clown phobias.
"But clowns are just creepy and it works for me. It's something you don’t see a lot of."
Clutterbuck, who posed for a group shot with wife Dawn Wampler and nephew Grady Reiter, gave us some insight into his creative clown-making process.
"I buy the masks, sometimes from (Halloween store) Spirit Halloween or Wal-Mart, or online from the US because a lot of this stuff isn’t available in Canada," he said.
"And then I create the structure behind each one. The heads behind the masks are usually made with Styrofoam. The bodies are pool noodles and frames.
"A lot of the characters take a couple of days. You have to think about it, build it, and then basically glue it all together. Then paint it. Then carve some of it, then figure out the structures for the clowns and the background and the lighting and that sort of stuff."
Perhaps most awesomely, Cleland Clown Cemetary looks good and looks cohesive when viewed as a whole entity. It isn’t too crowded or too confusing or too mumbly-jumbly. And Clutterbuck says that's by design.
"I do take a whole-house approach," he said. "I treat it as one big decoration with a bunch of focal points within.
"I start building stuff in August. I don’t start putting it together until the first week of October."
The Cleland Clown Cemetery at 120 Cleland Dr. in uptown Penticton is active and available for viewing every day between 3 pm and 9 pm from now 'til Halloween. Visitors are welcome to walk amongst the graves as long as they're careful and respectful and adhere to the obvious pathway.
But if you go, just know this. Malevolent clowns may haunt your dreams from now though eternity.
