Tag Archives: Ben Donoghue

“STOREHOUSE” at Deptford Storehouse

Secrecy can be exciting, and this project from new arts production company Sage & Jester uses that fact well. “Truth lies here” is the smart tagline, immersive theatre is the promise and, given how diverse that scene is, what you are going to get is hard to anticipate. That the show is big is obvious enough – the former paper depot that serves as the venue is 9,000 square metres.

Without giving too much away, there’s a sci-fi scenario that the audience is guided through a little too strictly. The story isn’t complicated – all the world’s digital information, since the internet started in 1983, has been secretly stored in this very location – but it is hampered by a lot of jargon. The scientists who founded the project (at the height of post-modernism, no less) were aiming for an ultimate truth via algorithm. A mission that has, not surprisingly, failed.

The show’s founder and concept creator, Liana Patarkatsishvili, has the laudable aim of provoking us into thinking about information and control. But the issues aren’t new and it’s all a bit worthy. We learn that online media is often biased and that it brings out the worst in people. Hopefully, that isn’t a revelation to many. Exploring the cultish overtones to a faith in the algorithm is more interesting but comes with yet more cant.

STOREHOUSE-Nina-Smith-credit-to-Helen-Murray
Nina Smith

While those founders are voiced by an impressive cast in recordings, it is the bookbinders, stackers and caretakers (each with an oath) that we meet. These characters are a touch too bizarre. And attempts at humour fail. But Nat Kennedy, Zachary Pang and Nina Smith, who I saw perform, dealt very well with the audience participation, which is encouraged but isn’t heavy handed – the cast won’t bother you if you aren’t keen (guilty). The questions are rather elevated, or at least abstract, which gives the show some standout.

There was a ‘Writers’ room’ at work here. And while there is lots of talent credited (Tristan Bernays, Sonali Bhattacharyya, Kathryn Bond, Katie Lyons, Caro Murphy and Rhik Samadder, with the story “produced” by Donnacadh O’Briain) the result is disappointing. The vocabulary is, frankly, naff and the dialogue clunky, partly because of too many slogans. Yes, we are meant to question all these mantras. But that doesn’t make them any easier to listen to. A bigger problem is that we don’t get to know our guides. They have a back story, but not enough time is taken over it, so there is no emotional connection.

There’s a twist when it comes to the end, with a nod to conspiracy theories that might surprise. After all, when it comes to “shaping narratives”, theatre makers are experts! It’s never a bad thing check how gullible you might be. I’m just not sure that insight is commensurate with the effort here.

Thankfully, there can be no reservations about the set itself – that is impressive. Production designer Alice Helps’ work is big and beautiful. It’s clever not to lean too far into scary, and the details, including the smells, tick the immersive box. The lighting from Ben Donoghue and the sound design from James Bulley are both suitably ethereal. For the finale, there’s a great touch incorporating the crowd, as well as music by Anna Meredith and more abstracts, as we are asked about the future and what gives us hope. This final scene might even give you goosebumps, though that’s mainly down to the staging and set.

Until 20 September 2025

www.sageandjester.com/storehouse/

Photos by Helen Murray

“The Burnt City” from Punchdrunk

Nobody does immersive theatre like Punchdrunk. Frankly, the company puts many others using the term to shame. Working from their new home in Woolwich, the latest show from directors Felix Barrett and Maxine Doyle has been one of the theatrical highlights of 2022. It’s kind of impossible to write about it… which is one of the things that makes it so great.

It’s been a long time since Punchdrunk’s previous large-scale show, The Drowned Man, wowed audiences. This time the source material is better known – it’s the Trojan War. The scale is huge: you can wander around Troy and the Greek camp, see the battleground and the Underworld. Or not… Remember, each experience is individual; you visit at your own pace and explore what you want, so following the story isn’t as important as the overall experience.

What you are guaranteed is some fantastic dancing; the choreography by Doyle and the performances are excellent. Some of the gymnastics are astonishing given how close the audience can get to the action. And the acting is fantastic (note, not a word is spoken). Much of The Burnt City is disturbing, it’s about a war after all. And it is also creepy. There are lots of ghosts as well as gods. And characters don’t quite seem to die… hang around if you think a ‘scene’ has ended.

The famous theatrical masks that are a Punchdrunk trademark are still used. They are key, transforming the crowd into a character. With your vision impaired, it’s a unique way to feel yourself part of an audience and anonymous. But the masks are also uncomfortable. It can’t be described as a pain to see something this phenomenal… but a word of warning, it’s good to be nimble and the experience can be overwhelming. The lighting, also designed by Barrett, with F9 and Ben Donoghue is key. It is predominantly dark, to add to your trepidation, but how attention is guided by spotlighting is eerie.

Punchdrunks-The-Burnt-City-2-credit-Julian-Abrams

There is a temptation, and an invitation, to follow a particular character but that can be a challenge. One-on-one encounters are very much in evidence, with audience members plucked from the group right from the start. It’s brilliantly done (and it’s a top tip not to get hung up about staying with whoever you went with) but I’m not sure I’d want to be singled out – all the encounters are singularly intense, and the show often borders on the uncanny and discomforting.

The enormous venue is a cleverly designed maze – the work of Barrett, Livi Vaughan and Beatrice Minns is awe inspiring. The details are astonishing and, yes, you can pick things up but put them back where you found them. There is the feel of a nightmarish funfair (actually, there is a funfair included!) and a heartrending sense of people displaced. The show can’t be said to focus – that’s down to the audience – but it is notable that civilians and women play a big part in this interpretation of the story.

One suggestion – a museum set up at the start is a pointer. Like the pots on display, the myths (and action) in The Burnt City are on repeat. Akin to characters in an illustration, they are atemporal. That might be another reason the characters don’t quite die, and I certainly lost track of time during my visit. It is all, frankly, disorientating. While following even one story is part of the fun, I’m not sure it’s possible without a lot of visits. Although plenty of trips would be no bad thing.

www.onecartridgeplace.com

Promotional photos by Julian Abrams