Sleep No More

Lon­don based the­ater com­pany Punch­drunk has trans­formed an old club in Chelsea into a night­mar­ish 5-floor labyrinth for their play Sleep No More, a com­bi­na­tion of Shakespeare’s Mac­beth and Hitchcock’s Rebecca. I’ve been help­ing to pre­pare the set, which has given me an inside look at how the best of immer­sive the­ater is done. Between the phe­nom­e­nal set design, inti­mate and chill­ing encoun­ters with char­ac­ters through­out the per­for­mance and the well crafted alter­nate real­ity game that lead up to the open­ing, it’s no won­der that Punch­drunk has such a cult fol­low­ing. The expe­ri­ence is addict­ing. (SPOILER ALERT!)

Sleep No More takes place in The McKit­trick Hotel. To enter, you go through a pitch black labyrinth which emp­ties out into a 1930s jazz bar. To go beyond the jazz bar, you must put on a tra­di­tional Venet­ian style mask (see a photo here) and get on the ele­va­tor. The masks help main­tain the soli­tary atmos­phere while at the same time mak­ing the mask-less actors stand out from the audi­ence mem­bers. You are pushed out of the ele­va­tor in small groups on dif­fer­ent floors.

The open­ing scene (if you can find it in time from wher­ever the ele­va­tor man dumped you off) is a silent, slow-motion ban­quet in the ball­room. The tense meal ends with the 12 actors scat­ter­ing in dif­fer­ent direc­tions. The audi­ence scat­ters, too, as they break into small groups fol­low­ing dif­fer­ent char­ac­ters through the hotel. You must decide who to fol­low, if anyone.

 

Since the audi­ence can roam freely, every detail of the set counts. Read­ing through papers in a desk, turn­ing over dis­carded toys in a child’s room or exam­in­ing pho­tographs on the wall reveal depth and com­plex­ity in the story. Move­ment in space can also func­tion as move­ment in time. Going from an infant’s room to the adja­cent grave­yard scene with an aban­doned black cra­dle makes it clear that the child didn’t make it. I walked through these rooms just after watch­ing the still-pregnant mother fight with her hus­band in an elab­o­rate chore­o­graphed strug­gle atop the kitchen cupboards.

This is prob­a­bly the most inge­nious aspect of Sleep No More. The set is non-linear and inter­ac­tive. Mov­ing through space will move you to dif­fer­ent times in the nar­ra­tive and the more you dig through the set’s details, the more you learn about what is hap­pen­ing. The per­for­mance itself, though, is very lin­ear. The impec­ca­ble tim­ing of char­ac­ters cross­ing paths to speech­lessly engage in scenes with one another moves the story along to a dra­matic end­ing. You could be fol­low­ing a char­ac­ter who was just left one scene and see them enter upon another scene in progress with per­fect tim­ing to begin an encounter there.

 

Here’s an exam­ple — at one point, I fol­lowed a char­ac­ter into a rave-like bac­cha­nal. After about 10 min­utes, he leaves the scene and I along with maybe ⅓ of the audi­ence mem­bers watch­ing fol­low him down the hall to a dark bar. There is a man there alone. The char­ac­ter from the bac­canal fights him and, after a long strug­gle, smashes his head in behind the bar and goes back to the bac­canal. Almost the the audi­ence mem­bers fol­low, but three of us stay behind in the bar. A bar­tender shows up moments later to clean up the mess when sud­denly another char­ac­ter with a blood­ied face enters from the oppo­site side of the room and con­fronts the bartender.

Another exam­ple — a man is asleep in a bed.  His lover shows up. They engage in a vio­lent strug­gle, which the audi­ence mem­bers have to con­stantly shift to avoid. The fight clearly arouses the woman. He leaves in a huff. She undresses and stands crazed on the edge of a full bath tub in the mid­dle of the room. Even­tu­ally she puts on a dress­ing gown. All this time there are muf­fled thumps and bang­ing on the floor above, and I worry that I am miss­ing some­thing more excit­ing else­where (but what could be more excit­ing?). Her lover comes back, run­ning, fran­tic and bloody. He strips and gets into the bath­tub to scrub the blood off. She comes to help him.

 

Minute actions and indi­vid­ual encoun­ters heighten the inti­macy of expe­ri­enc­ing scenes up close and in the round. You can read over a character’s shoul­der as he types out a let­ter or watch every del­i­cate motion of string­ing a locket on a chain. The only oppor­tu­nity to hear a char­ac­ter speak is through a one-on-one encounter if they pull you with them behind a closed door.

And when when it’s all over and you talk with your friends after­word about what you expe­ri­enced, you won’t believe them and they won’t believe you.  There was so much to see. It was all so spec­tac­u­lar that it’s hard to believe so much tran­spired in 2 hours.

 

It’s not sur­pris­ing that a the­ater expe­ri­ence like this would have an alter­nate real­ity game to pro­mote it. It was called Gal­low Green. A web­site of green text on a black back­ground offered Shakespear-like riddles.

 

The dis­cus­sion boards of Sleep No More’s Face­book Page went wild for a week as play­ers worked through to the puz­zles together. Three of the 12 answers were offered up at live events, first one in Boston and then two in New York. One puz­zle answer was found in a Lon­don ceme­tery. I kept up with the game and made it out to one of the New York events, which involved procur­ing pro­tec­tive amulets through indi­vid­ual encoun­ters with an actor near the Cen­tral Park Carousel at night.

 

The sec­ond New York event entailed a ban­quet in an aban­doned build­ing. That was where new pho­tos of the set were leaked to the pub­lic via a USB stick hid­den in the loaf of bread (the pho­tos of the set in this post are from that USB stick). The answer to the final rid­dled served up a phone num­ber where play­ers could leave mes­sages to request a meet­ing with the Clair­voy­ant. Three win­ners were cho­sen for meet­ings. Accounts were posted on the Face­book page dis­cus­sion boards.

I attended a per­for­mance on Wednes­day night and intend to reread Mac­beth before I go to another per­for­mance next week.  Sleep No More is run­ning until mid-April. I couldn’t rec­om­mend it more.