The Drowned Man

Temple Studios, Paddington, London  ~  Wednesday 16^th April 2014

The immersive, promenade performance The Drowned Man is difficult to summarise, firstly because a significant part of the attraction is its mystery and suspense, which I am loath to ruin.   Secondly, as a result of its vastness and ‘choose your own adventure’ approach (remember those books?) it is nigh on impossible to generalise about what can be a highly personal experience.

A little bit of context is useful, though.  A friend who had recommended the show sent me some tips and a few web links to help me out. I was told to lose my friends, not to be scared (alarm bells!!) and to follow a character. I heeded her warning and it was useful without spoiling anything.

Upon arrival we handed in our bags and coats at the cloakroom (this is a must), were presented with a small slip of paper very briefly outlining the two main narratives of the piece, and were supplied with the obligatory white mask to be worn at all times, except in the bar. Curioser and curiouser.

From here the audience become groups of be-masked explorers wandering around in near darkness – the blind leading the blind.  We stay entirely silent and follow where’ere our senses or the actors guide us. We have little influence over the action as it must all be perfectly timed and scripted for the complexities of the production to work. Despite this it somehow felt driven by the audience.  But I am in danger of revealing too much.

The performance itself lasts for three hours and having sat through Hamlet recently, which to be brutally honest made my bum ache, I didn’t think this was too bad – it certainly doesn’t feel overly long.   In fact I had to go for a little sit down in the bar after a couple of hours to rest my weary legs.

Although I’ve been to immersive theatre before this was by far the most impressive and innovative, partly because of its scale, ambition, and the remarkable level of detail. During the evening I was alternately surprised, frightened, baffled and frustrated, much like my first foray in to the films of David Lynch, especially Mulholland Drive and Inland Empire.  As with Lynch, The Drowned Man left me pondering and even dreaming of its beautifully dark mysteries, bizarre narrative structures and the subtle balance of  power, influence and inference at play in its approach to storytelling.

For me, half the fun of this production was comparing notes with friends at the end of the performance and for days afterwards. Two of us had completely different experiences and if we went back, the prospect of which is enormously tempting, no doubt we would not see the same things again. Alas I fear my bank balance has already decided this for me.

This is the kind of theatrical experience that undoubtedly invites a cult following and behaviour normally associated with obsessive fandom (not that I would know anything about that of course). Although mobile phones are not allowed on set I saw one gentleman surreptitiously whispering the actions of actors and audience members into his mobile, perhaps desperately trying to decipher layers of hidden meaning to solve the intertwining mysteries. Or maybe he was just an amateur hack with a poor memory.

If you are expecting a clear, linear  narrative from Punchdrunk then don’t be fooled. This experience rewards patience as well as mental (and a bit of physical) leg-work and it took me a while to get to grips with this. If you aren’t afraid to let your imagination run wild and are willing to accept that not all of the choices and directions you take will pay off, you will be richly rewarded.