View: Zombie Joe’s Urban Death Tour of Terror Ultra
Beware what goes bump in the night, and to be sure stay behind the yellow tape.
A Halloween Scene Theatre View
I think of an entering audience at this annual Halloween showcase of excess, occasional gross-outs, and theatre-of-the-absurd-meets-bad-taste as predominantly being in two groups: the people who excitedly line up each and every year, and wouldn’t consider a spooky season complete without a visit to something that plays out like a black-box version of a Fellini film, a low-grade porno set, and a party at John Waters’ house; the second group are those that are so taken aback by what they saw that they never return and aren’t likely to talk much about the outrageous exploits they just witnessed inside.
You can probably guess which group has more members. Yep, the former. Devotees are numerous and suitably brave at Zombie Joe’s Urban Death Tour of Terror Ultra.
So, on opening night at ZJU’s, October 2026, there was a palpable buzz raging through the long line that slinked down Lankershim Blvd., each guest awaiting their dimmed flashlights and an annual dose of buttocks (usually male) and rawness. The dubious flashlight, for those of you who haven’t taken in L.A.’s modern-day version of Grand Guignol meets Halloween haunt, is for the top and bottom of the show, where you walk through a shocking maze of cleverly twisting plastic sheeting and a bunch of equally twisted and very brazen performers doing things just inches away from you that might be illegal in several states.
Once you survive that eye-opening spectacle, you’re spit out into a small theatre and its rim (no comment) perimeter seating and/or plenty of open floor space that will soon be filled to the brim with the audience behind you who are still working their way through the maze.
Last year’s ’25 Urban Death show greeted you with a woeful, ghoulish violin player supplying the entrance music; this year, it’s a metal guitar player – quite good by the way – who rips out solo after solo of hard rock as the room slowly fills up.
Once all of the seats are full, and it takes quite a while, there’s nowhere else to sit but on the floor, and if you’re seated there, especially toward the front, make sure to stay behind the yellow tape or you may find an exposed actor body part way in your space.
The show then unleashes itself, and 2026 was, as predicted, far more outrageous than truly scary. I quickly determined the Ultra in the name must mean that they’ve ratcheted up the nudity to a much higher level. There’s always the insane asylum guy with his butt hanging out. He’s a staple, but this year it’s a full-blown “here it is, you paid for it” flesh fest. Not every skit in the dozen-plus reveal skin, just most of them.
The never-a-single-word-spoken blackout pieces themselves amount to a couple that are artistic in nature, think Greenwich Village 1967; several that are just characters in various forms of fear and torture; and a few that are straight-up gross, another reason to stay behind that yellow tape. Director Denise Devin, who likely handed you your flashlight upon entering, pretty much lets her cast push the performance envelope as far as is allowed.
The audience on opening night was at times howling in laughter, sitting in stunned silence, making various sounds of verbal disbelief, and often cheering wildly at the end of most of the bits. This is Zombie Joe’s loyal audience, and many will be back in 2027 to witness the sideshow all over again.
What I would have liked to have seen – no, not more nudity (they had more than one night’s allotment), but more of an understandable throughline to the production. The vignettes were mostly one-offs that offered a few interesting moments, a spook or two, and a couple of visual surprises, but didn’t really tell me much as a connected story.
The setting is always vaguely an insane asylum, apparently after the workers have gone home for the weekend and the lunatics are running the joint. And that’s the general vibe again this year from the committed performers: a lot of groaning, bad behavior, and coupling up when no one is watching, except for the stunned audience just a few feet away. This being Urban Death, there is certainly the naughtiness, the violence, a bit of blood, and copious dark humor, but there isn’t much of an obvious narrative to tie it all together. So think of this one as the parts over the whole, and you’ll probably get the most out of it.
You’ll certainly see lots of parts in those parts and view things you haven’t imagined in your dreams or nightmares. Some will entertain, some may cause discomfort, and nearly all will stun your soul and cause you to think, “How the hell did they pull this off….without being raided?” Then it’s over faster than you expect, and before you’re back out on the street, half-numb from the experience, they’ll march you back through the maze in reverse order, where the wicked cast are again awaiting you as scare actors determined to make the trip out even wilder, spookier, and more outrageous than the way in.
And you’ll probably be back next year. Or you’ll swear off experimental, avant-garde theatre for the rest of your life. Happy Halloween, and I'll see you there!
4850 Lankershim Blvd.
North Hollywood, CA 91601
now thru October 31
Friday, Saturday, Sunday
Tix: $26.70
Adult Event
