When you think of immersive theatre pioneers Punchdrunk, you probably imagine vast, aircraft-hanger sized sets filled with dozens of actors, hundreds of audience members and hundreds of thousands of painstakingly hand-crafted pieces of ephemera.
Over more than 20 years the company has placed itself at the forefront of the immersive theatre world, with smash hits including The Drowned Man (2013), Sleep No More (2003, although best known for its 2011 revival in New York) and The Burnt City (2022). Each one is an abstract swirl, telling a story through a thousand fragments, actors wordlessly conveying the narrative through contemporary dance.
After settling into a permanent home at Woolwich, Punchdrunk now finds itself in the enviable position of having space to spare while it’s between marquee productions – and so Viola’s Room is born.
Unlike the free-roaming choose-your-own-adventure set-up of past experiences, this is a quiet, intimate work, a single story told without actors to small groups over just 45 minutes
Unlike the free-roaming choose-your-own-adventure set-up of past experiences, this is a quiet, intimate work, a single story told without actors to small groups over just 45 minutes. Gone are the masks audience members are usually required to wear, swapped for a neat pair of Bowers & Wilkins headphones.
An instruction manual tells you to “follow the light” and asks that you remove your socks and shoes. You’re then led into the kitsch, eerily familiar bedroom of a teenage girl – the titular Viola’s Room – to the strains of Sound Garden (the soundtrack also makes use of Massive Attack and Tori Amos, really milking the nostalgia for those of us who were teenagers in the 1990s). You lie back on a daybed and relax as the lights fade to pitch black.
Viola’s Room is a change of pace for Punchdrunk
Then the fairytale begins, a story about a princess who would rather loose herself in the hedge-maze of her palace – and to dancing in the dark – than marry a prince. By following little clouds of light, you’re led down labyrinthine corridors, through forests and banquet halls, passing seamlessly from reality to fantasy. Scenes you first see in miniature are realised in life size. All the while the soothing voice of Helena Bonham Carter recounts the plight of princess Viola.
The story is touching in its own right but it’s really a vehicle through which Punchdrunk can do what it does best: transport you to another place. You really feel part of this strange, hermetically sealed little world. While never outright frightening, the nostalgia of childhood is accompanied by a sense of unease: you’ll squeeze through tight corridors and contemplate the darkness.
While never outright frightening, the nostalgia of childhood is accompanied by a sense of unease: you’ll squeeze through tight corridors and contemplate the darkness
A debt is perhaps owed to so-called ‘walking simulator’ video games, with Punchdrunk using similar devices – “follow the light” – and even borrowing tonal queues from titles including Dear Esther, What Remains of Edith Finch and, especially, Gone Home.
That’s not to say Viola’s Room feels derivative: indeed, it’s probably the most unusual and single-minded piece of theatre on the London ‘stage’ today.
• Viola’s Room is on now – book here