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.
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
