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"When we get to Niagara-on-the-Lake, do not walk on the snow," admonished first assistant director John Board at the final production meeting with The Dead Zone crew before principal photography began on January 10th. A few weeks later, he was ready to eat his words. The record-breaking Canadian winter extremes began with the coldest temperature in 70 years, followed by, paradoxically, the third warmest winter since 1840 when weather records were first kept. Normally it is exciting to break a record of any kind. However, it is not always necessarily a pleasant experience to be part of a record-breaking event. Such an event was the coldest night on record during a two-night shoot on The Dead Zone. With strong winds gusting from the northeast over 40 miles of the tossing waters of Lake Ontario, the wind chill factor was 30 below, resulting in several red-faced extras suffering from windburn, frozen equipment and one poor soul collapsing from a close case of hypothermia. Soundman Bryan Day pointed out that the scene reminded him of the Arctic on the edge of Hudson's Bay where he once spent three nights in an igloo. Indeed, it could have been the Arctic where the frozen lakeshore had thrown up ice cones resembling a collection of igloos.
Director
Cronenberg selected this exact spot to build what
Niagara-on-the-Lake, just a few miles north of New York State across the Canadian border, as a strong sense of history, with some of its buildings dating back to the late 1700's -- at least those that burned down in the battle of 1812 between the British and the Americans. Consequently, when location manager David Coatsworth surveyed literally dozens of houses for the shoot, at least 80% of the owners claimed that their houses were definitely haunted. That included the Anglican priest whose house was used for Johnny Smith's apartment. What could be better for a Cronenberg film than a haunted town! Further tales abounded. The Niagara Institute provided the exterior of the clinic where Johnny Smith recuperates after his five-year coma. This was next to an area called Butlers Barracks, named after a British commander whose regiment fought in the 1812 war. The field, where a major battle took place between the American and British armies, is an historic site preserved by the Canadian government. The Niagara Institute is directly across from this field. The Institute, originally built as a summer home by an American banker based 45 miles away in Buffalo, resembled a mansion more than a summer retreat, with a 100-foot living room. Presently it is a low-profile think tank where high government officials assemble from time to time. One of the Niagara Institute employees swears, however, one evening he looked out into the back yard. He say two soldiers in 1812 uniforms, one wounded. Together, one supporting the other, they walked right through the living room windows and walls directly to the old battlefield.
The legend of the screaming tunnel comes from a tragedy when a farmhouse burned down 75 years ago, causing the death of an eight-year-old boy. On quiet nights, there is a distinctive wailing sound from the tunnel -- it's the sound of the boy's screaming as he burns to death. Furthermore, if a match is lit in the tunnel, it blows out. It's the ghost of the boy blowing it out because he hates the sight of fire. Niagara-on-the-Lake claims to have the only Lord Mayor in Canada. The title dates back to 1972 when the town was the capital of upper Canada. The title was retained, even after Canada stopped using the traditional English titles several decades ago. The town (population: 12,500), selected because it best conveyed the Norman Rockwell image, still retains the Rockwell values of that period. The locals helped out in many ways. One thoughtful owner of a house which had been dressed to convey a slovenly aspect (Deputy Dodd's home) left the following note: "Please take out our garbage. The other garbage is film garbage." Garbage collection was the next day and they certainly didn't want to disturb the set decoration of The Dead Zone. Even this tacky house was haunted. Coatsworth checked the house at midnight prior to next day's filming. He and three others distinctly heard the rush of water as the hot water tap suddenly came on full blast. No one was in that room at the time. "This was my first cosmic experience," grinned Coatsworth. Kindnesses were also extended to the crew, who were billeted at the formal Prince of Wales Hotel, dating back to the Prince of Wales' visit in 1864. The hotel offered the amenity of dropping their dress code of tie and jacket in the dining and drinking areas for the duration of the four-week shoot at Niagara-on-the-Lake. (on to page 4)
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More
local lore centered on the "screaming tunnel," another murder site
in the film. The tunnel was built by the Canadian National Railway
to give a farmer access to a concession road, which was blocked by
the railway embankment. The tunnel is 125-feet-long and
16-feet-high, built in rough cut stone from the Niagara escarpment.
A natural sulphur spring bubbles at one end of the tunnel giving off
a rotten egg stench.
