A recent Sunday evening found Melanie Parker and her 2-year-old son in Brooklyn’s Ditmas Park, visiting a house renowned for its elaborate Halloween setup. Her son, she noted, ‘loves classic Halloween imagery — pumpkins, witches, ghosts, spiders and skeletons.’
However, what greeted them at the decorated home was a disturbing scene: ‘a ton of blood’ and ‘dismembered bodies, like a child’s head,’ as Parker described. These figures were animated, speaking, gesturing, and making noises, enhanced by lighting that made the wounds appear chillingly realistic.
The experience left a lasting impression. Her son ‘keeps talking about the guy who broke his head and the people who were hurt. Our kid was both riveted and disturbed.’
While a touch of fright is central to Halloween’s charm, many now feel that genuine ‘jump scares’ are overflowing from front lawns, stoops, doorways, and rafters, as household decorations lean into increasingly gory, violent, and unsettling realism.
This trend has sparked neighborhood complaints and left some wondering about the darker psychological impulses reflected in contemporary American culture.
Regina Musicaro, a licensed clinical psychologist specializing in trauma, expressed her concern: ‘It bothers me because I think it says something about the character of our culture. It feels what is being prioritized is being the most outrageous, and I think we need some self-imposed restraints on what we put out there because it reflects our thoughtfulness.’
The subtle shift toward more extreme decor may have begun with ‘Skelly,’ the imposing 12-foot skeleton with illuminated eyes, first introduced by Home Depot in 2020. Despite its $300 price tag, Skelly quickly became a must-have item in subsequent years.
This year, Home Depot has upped its game, releasing even spookier decorations, including a five-foot-tall skeleton dog. Aubrey Horowitz, the merchant of decorative holiday at Home Depot, explained in an email that ‘the dog piece was actually designed to be a scarier version of last year’s Skelly Dog, based on customer feedback that it wasn’t quite spooky enough.’ She added, ‘Since everyone’s definition of scary is different, we strive to offer a balance.’
Tom Arnold, a finance professor and retail expert at the University of Richmond, attributes the rise in realistic Halloween decorations to advancements in technology and the ability to mass-produce them at lower costs.
Halloween has also evolved into a significantly larger spending holiday, particularly for adults. The National Retail Federation reports that decoration spending alone is projected to reach $4.2 billion this year, a substantial increase from $1.6 billion in 2019.
‘One way to think of it is if a store is dedicated 100 square feet to children, they are adding another 50 square feet for adults,’ Arnold remarked. ‘More adults seem to be getting into Halloween.’
This surge in adult participation raises an important question: Do adults still have a responsibility to keep their displays kid-friendly? Or should the entire community collaborate on what is considered appropriate?
‘I would probably say it’s our responsibility to make sure our son doesn’t see things that could scare him,’ Ms. Parker conceded. Yet, she acknowledged, ‘I know I don’t have total — maybe not even partial — control over what he sees out in the world.’
Cabot Phillips, a 31-year-old reporter from a conservative news podcast, residing in a Nashville suburb, has resorted to walking two blocks out of his way to avoid one particularly frightening house on his route to the playground with his 18-month-old son.
‘There is an inflatable four-foot-long demo zombie baby with blood all over his face and creepy veins, and it looks possessed,’ he described. ‘Initially, I would walk next to the stroller so my son couldn’t see it, but now I am taking a different path.’
He believes his homeowner’s association should facilitate a community discussion about acceptable decor. ‘People in the neighborhood can decide together what is too far for them,’ he suggested.
The impact isn’t limited to children. Many adults also report being unnerved by the increasingly intense decorations in their neighborhoods, experiencing distractions while driving or feeling jumpy when walking home after dark.
Julia Arenson, a 58-year-old yoga instructor and doula in Brooklyn’s Park Slope, has observed an ‘overabundance of large skeletons standing there lording over brownstones,’ referring to the ubiquitous Home Depot Skelly.
‘There is a lot of instability in the world right now and in our country, and I really feel like it is being reflected in all the décor, all these stark skeletal remains,’ she mused.
She wondered if these types of decorations were always present but simply less noticeable before.
‘I would like to see some googly eyes or some funny witches,’ she concluded.