Due
to the nature of this attraction, you should be aware that
the images below are of a graphic nature.
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The London Dungeon
The
London Dungeon chronicles the most grisly chapters in London’s
colourful history using a combination of grizzly scenes, a cast of
costumed actors and 2000 years of history, brought chillingly to life.
The
Dungeon touts itself as a gruesome museum of everything that Madame
Tussauds’ famous Chamber of Horrors were too scared to show you. Built
into rustic archways along London’s Tooley Street, the attraction
hopes to capture visitors’ morbid curiosity by telling the tales of
the London Plague, the Great Fire, and recreating the steps of the
infamous monster, Jack the Ripper.
If
you prebook or book online, you will miss out on the first shock of
many; the queue to get in. The outside of London Dungeons has been much
photographed with broody statues and flaming lanterns, the
characteristic arched entrance emblazoned with the gloomy adage “Enter
at Your Peril”.
The
queue, you will soon learn, is for another queue. Once inside, you wait
in a gloomy graveyard to have your photo taken with your head in a pair
of stocks.
Once
done, you queue up again, this time for tickets before you enter the
Dungeons.
Once
inside, visitors mill around the around the darkened catacombs which
exhibit the oft-grotesque forms of torture offered to the more
promiscuous citizens of medieval times including being bludgeoned to
death in their own homes (a popular choice for the ladies) and simply
being drowned.
These
first scenes give a good indication of what lies ahead. This isn’t the
history of London presented palatably with the gory finer details
withheld, this is the story of London told from the gritty perspective
of blood, gore, death and misery.
Aside
the opening scene, your tour around the London Dungeon is guided in its
entirety. Once you have absorbed the grim reality of medieval life, you
are beaconed into a dark room from which your tour in earnest begins.
The
charismatic introduction by a battered-looking member of staff warns us
of the grisly sights we’re about to see before we are cast into the
Labyrinth of the Lost.
The
Labyrinth of the Lost is apparently the largest such mirror maze in the
world with corridors and archways being patrolled by a sinister ‘crypt
keeper’ who uses the mirrors to hide and jump out when you least
expect it.
While
you enter the maze as a large group of about thirty, the group soon
fragments through the many passageways and corridors and the maze
becomes more and more effective. Even more so when every seemingly
possible avenue of escape has been explored to no avail; there is
seemingly no way out, before through the catacombs the sound of a bell
tolling and the haunting cries of “bring out your dead” guide you
towards a now opened doorway and into a 17th century London street.
As
the door slams shut behind you, a dishevelled old hag explains how the
bubonic plague spread through London in the fateful summer of 1665.
Travellers ‘like us’ helped the plague spread through the ill-fated
city with the help of rats, fleas and people escaping the city, helping
it to spread to other British cities.
In
total, 100,000 people died, and as death knocks on the door of London,
it is time to meet one of the dearly departed. We make our way down a
London street, with red crosses painted on doors, and poorly residents
spluttering and sneezing at us before we enter a grimy post mortem
examination room.
A
sickly looking female doctor wearing a nose-gay full of flowers
nervously enters stage left before taking us on a graphic tour of the
symptoms of the bubonic plague. In a fairly nonchalant performance, we
discover that as well as flu-like symptoms, black blemishes would form
and eat away at your body.
The
tour of the decomposing body includes shocking observers with a surprise
squirt of water before in a comically inept movement sits up (with a
movement not dissimilar to how toast pops out of a toaster) to the sound
of dramatic music as our panicky doctor ushers the fairly serene
audience out and into the next room.
This
autopsy shows the Dungeons’ true colours; a flimsy horror pretext
overlaid with a token sniff of educational worth, embellished with hammy
acting and a fairly tiresome comedy routine.
In
the next room, a loud-mouthed hag rounds up our rabble before giving us
a graphic guide to period instruments of torture. Once again, the
educational merit is there if you look hard enough, although the jokes
and innuendo are at the forefront.
The
gore is left to your imagination as certain instruments are pointed
menacingly at one member of the group. Most involve cutting or removing
various parts of your body; whether your tongue, or (males) your, well,
y’know.
Suitably
belittled, we are ordered to put our hands on our heads and are
frogmarched into a courtroom.
Almost
as if an instrument of torture itself, despairing visitors are subjected
to a pantomime performance by the court clerk and judge, along with a
gallery of six unconvincing waxwork jurors who call various members of
the group up to the dock and accuse them of crimes ranging from public
nudity and being ugly.
Bombarded
with a clear display of comedy one-upmanship between the two actors, it
is entirely possible I nodded off at the back of the class, but I for
one could not see how exactly this courtroom drama added a single string
to London Dungeon’s bow. Nothing about it was educational, and
certainly nothing gory.
Nevertheless,
we are condemned to hell by the stroppy judge and are ushered off
through a brief maze of chickenwire, illuminated with a flashing red
strobe before we get to the much lauded ‘Traitor! Boat Ride to
Hell’.
Touting
itself as the most terrifying ride in London, eight passengers board a
boat which makes the journey to Traitor’s Gate at the Tower of London
to meet their inevitable fate.
Despite
the grim expectations, Boat Ride to Hell is a veritable pleasure...
i.e., it’s not in anyway scary. Slightly irritating, but definitely
not scary.
Your
doomed boat passes through the stagnated waters of the Thames towards
Traitor’s Gate. After a few choice insults from a robotic animatronic
who is “having a really bad day” your boat goes down a
shallow backwards drop before you alight.
Ironically,
Boat Ride to Hell lacks the misery and discomfort of Blackpool’s
Valhalla, so is a failure of the highest order.
But,
as we abandon all hope, London Dungeon pulls an ace from its sleeve.
19th
century London played host for one of the most prolific serial murderers
of all time; Jack The Ripper.
Our
host, a reporter for the local rag, explains that he is following the
bloody trail of Jack The Ripper, a wicked and mysterious character who
earned his name by brutally murdering and dissecting so called ladies of
the night in 1888.
His
creepy account of events is made all the more chilling as he reveals the
barely recognisable remains of his first victim, slumped on the ground
under some steps in a Whitechappel courtyard.
Concerned
for our safety, he takes us into a dimly lit street where he assures us
a policeman will soon be here to make sure we don’t become the
Ripper’s next victims. In a clever twist, the policeman never arrives,
with instead our safe passage being assured by a vigilante.
Such
was the concern in 1888, the public took the law into their own hands in
the quest to capture the elusive Whitechappel murderer. Of course, as a
vigilante our host many stories to tell, and what follows is the most
convincing, nostalgic and educational performance by any actor in the
London Dungeon.
Of
course, the tale of Jack the Ripper is the perfect horror story for
London Dungeon, and as you stand in a dimly lit street being told about
how victims were mercilessly killed in quite grotesque detail.
A
film in a cinema follows, and through a grubby upstairs window the film
explains the story in more depth, chronicling one of the murders where
the audacious Ripper forced his way into the home of one of the murdered
prostitutes.
We
then go into a police mortuary, where we look down upon a bloodied body
on the slab with two doctors examining it. A narrative explains how
nobody actually knew the final identity of Jack the Ripper.
As
already explained by the vigilante we met earlier, he was already known
as Jack the Ripper as this was how a letter to the police was signed.
Projections of various suspects appear on the wall above the autopsy;
including proven lunatics, people who even admitted to being the Ripper
(although not proven, they were hanged) as well as a priest (suspected
due to his views on ladies of the night).
Rather
randomly, this presentation concludes with some non-descript and non-sensical
ramblings from the spirit of Jack the Ripper (oh, per-lease) before the
presentation confusingly concludes with a fireball exploding from an
opened door in the wall.
Your
passage takes you towards a set of gallows, before you go down some
steps underneath the stage above. As the crowd gather around, with a
thud the wooden trapdoors above burst open before the legs of one of the
assumed murders fall into view.
The
final chapter of London Dungeon is to tell the story of the Great Fire
of London, London’s second-such fire (the first being in 1212) which
destroyed 13,000 houses and 87 churches, including St. Paul’s
Cathedral starting from a baker’s oven.
A
slideshow and narration shows us a fairly dull pictorial account of the
event as we huddle in Pudding Lane, the epicentre of the fire. In the
distance you can make out the dim glow of the fire before you are
hastily ushered out through a burning passageway into the attraction’s
gift shop.
So,
is London Dungeon a truly hair-raising experience, or simply an
instrument of torture? Does it strike a balance between gore and
education, or is just an inane bloodfest?
Honestly?
None of the above. Not in its entirety, anyway.
Fortunately,
London Dungeon doesn’t rely on blood and gore throughout, but at the
same time it isn’t as educational as it perhaps could have been.
Despite being poorly presented, the Great Fire of London scene is
educational, and Jack The Ripper is exactly what I expected from the
Dungeon; education, atmosphere with some blood and guts thrown in for
good measure, yet leaving some to the imagination, too.
The
courtroom, Labyrinth of the Lost and Traiter! Boat Ride to Hell are all
much-advertised fluff that add absolutely nothing of credit to the
London Dungeon. No blood, no gore, nothing to scare you, and certainly
nothing educational.
Those
who haven’t visited London Dungeon for a few years will be surprised
how much the attraction has changed. While you were previously left to
your own devices explore the dark recesses of the dungeon, London
Dungeon is now a guided tour.
With
each scene having a different host, you can expect a lot of waiting
around, even on busy days. The very worst example of this is at the
start of the Jack the Ripper scene, where you must wait for the
chronically low capacity Boat Ride to Hell to ship ‘traitors’ to
Whitechappel for the tour to continue.
There
is also too much onus now on elaborate sets with speeches being given by
actors or having the guest watch a film. Like having a lecture without
the luxury of a notebook, much of the information bombarded will go over
your head, and without the opportunity to explore the subjects of
interest yourself, London Dungeon is fairly blandly presented in terms
of educating you.
It
would be wrong to discourage a visit to the London Dungeon. You
certainly learn a lot about London’s history, but the biggest scare is
inevitably the amount it costs to get in, and how little the attraction
delivers against expectations.
MS
14 October 2005
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