An abandoned warehouse in Deptford hosts one of the most audacious, ostentatious, and sumptuous shows I've ever attended. An immersive theatrical experience which is lush with texture, ambitious in scope, and yet - somehow - slightly less than the sum of its parts.
The pre-show is exemplary. You're handed a lanyard with a room number and make your way through the imposing set until you find your waiting room. It is like if the TV show Severance had come alive. A congenial host signs you in, there's digitally manipulated news to watch, and some world-building lore to get you started. It's a small and friendly pod - maybe a dozen of you - frantically trying to work out what's going on.
And then - just like The Crystal Maze - you're deposited into a new zone. I don't want to give any spoilers, but the sets are outstanding. Beautifully decorated, intricately designed, and fully of fiddly-bits to investigate. It is clear a lot of money has been spend on this show. And that's kind of the problem - the sets and design are so expensive and yet the story is so weak.
The Storehouse holds every bit of information from the Internet. And something is going wrong. And there's a mysterious founder. And there are some heavy-handed clues. And then on to the next room. It's a 90 minute experience with no interval (and cramped portaloos outside) which means the story never really gets a chance to breathe.
It's trying to say something about fake news and media literacy, but it is all rather garbled and lost. Perhaps I'm showing my prejudice, but I don't think any Brexit voters or conspiracy theorists are spending their evenings inside an experimental theatre production. Even if they are, the world-building is so complex and the plot so flimsy, that I'm not sure it would change their mind.
A lot of care and effort has obviously gone in to this production. Every room feels unique, all the gadgetry and multi-media sensations are well integrated. There's a little bit of puzzle solving but (again, because of time constraints) it's mostly resolved by a cast member saying "Do you remember? It's like the big obvious clue we saw in the last room!"
The ending is intense - almost spell binding. It blows apart the 4th wall and becomes something halfway between communal relief and spiritual enlightenment. But, sadly, there's no catharsis of applause. The players vanish and we never get a chance to thank them. A shame because the cast are excellent - they have the tough job of presenting exposition, shepherding the audience, and improvising with us. They rattle through the technobabble with ease and fully embody their weird roles.
As for the post-show - another triumph. Deposited into a bar with interesting cocktails and a gorgeous view. Blinking into the sunlight, we are handed pamphlets about our experience, which seems like an apt metaphor.
It is absolutely worth visiting Storehouse. Go with an open mind, get involved, and try not to think too hard about whether any of it makes any sense.
