The Player’s Guide to Immersive Theatre

The creators of immersive theatre draw from the language of games, so it’s high time the audience did too.

So you’ve decided to embark on a journey into the mysterious world of immersive theatre.

Before you head into the great unknown, however, you’re going to want to put aside what you think you know about theatre. Shelve what you’ve learned about games. Pretend that you have no preconceived notions whatsoever about what is and isn’t art.

It doesn’t matter if you hold a masters degree in Theatre Arts or the high score in Donkey Kong, a good piece of immersive work borrows from these forms but is not beholden to them.

What follows are not absolute rules but guidelines — drawn from my own experiences and those of some of the other immersive enthusiasts I know — that are aimed at enhancing your initiation into the mystery cult we call Immersive.

Your own experiences are going to be unique — that’s the whole point of this, after all — and it’s my hope that this “strategy guide” will help you discover the best experiences possible.

If you get lost you can always check out The No Proscenium Glossary (For Audiences) to help with the lingo.

Know The Bare Minimum About the Story/World Before Going

This can be tricky, but for me, I like to know as little as possible about the production before I cross the threshold of the front door (with the exception being content, physical, or mobility advisories—a good production will provide high level ones or “one click away” in a FAQ doc for the spoiler-averse).

That “bare minimum” can sometimes be summed up as “a riff on BLANK.” To use two of the most popular New York City immersives as examples: the BLANK in Sleep No More is Macbeth and the BLANK in Then She Fell is Alice in Wonderland.

A fair number of immersive theatre pieces, particularly “sandbox” style shows that find financial success, adapt established work. This is because well known stories act as guideposts for the audience, who might otherwise get completely lost in an unfamiliar story world.

What you don’t want to do is read up on a dozen blogs that cover the experiences. That’s a surefire way to spoil the fun because it’s not even the WHAT of the story but the HOW that matters in an immersive.

If you’re an overachiever you can decide to get deeply familiar with the source material. Knowing the source is a solid key to unlocking the pleasures of a production. It can also help you avoid getting confused about WHERE you are in the story at any given moment, making it easier to give yourself up to that moment.

It also helps to know if a piece has more than one “rotation” or “loop” over the course of the night. Some shows are designed so that the action repeats: either to give the audience the chance to catch something they missed, or to advance the narrative through iteration. Or both. It’s worth asking around about that. You don’t want to leave just because you hit a false ending.

If the piece is completely original, don’t fret. The next tip has you covered.

Don’t Fear Ignorance

So maybe you aren’t well versed in Shakespeare and Carroll. That’s fine. You might miss some of the subtleties of a narrative, but a well made immersive will be constructed around a series of moments and transitions between those moments. Okay, so the same can be said of a well made play. The point is that it’s up to the producers of the immersive to give you what you need to navigate their imaginary world.

This is the only option the producers of original work, something we are beginning to see more of in the current resurgence, have. As audiences become more familiar with the form(s) that immersive theatre can take, producers rely on those conventions to illustrate new narratives.

I personally like to dive in with almost total ignorance. It becomes a challenge to keep up, sometimes, but when the production is well crafted the spirit of discovery pops up and keeps on rewarding me every few minutes. (Provided I don’t get lost in dark corridors for a half an hour, but that’s a thing for the “Dungeon Masters Guide.”)

Linearity Is For Suckers
(For Use With Sandbox Productions)

A solidly constructed sandbox immersive can be approached in a number of ways. You can always pick a character and just go with them, following the actor from space to space until someone in the production physically stops you. (Remember to respect the hard rules. See below.)

Following a single thread might give a sense of completion — you’ll hopefully get an arc worth of story — but you’ll miss out on one of the best features of sandbox experiences. That feeling that you can pick up the needle on a record and plop it down anywhere on the album at any time.

In my own experience I’ve found it incredibly rewarding to follow a character until I’ve met another one, and then I’ll jump on their “track” and see where the rabbit hole leads. It’s not the only way to fly, but it’s one thing you can do in a sandbox immersive that you just can’t in a traditional piece of theatre or most forms of media for that matter.

Get Your “Yes” On

At some point, if you’re lucky, an actor is going to approach you. They might ask you if you’d like a cup of tea, or if you trust them. Or if you’re a god.

Take it from Venkman: if someone asks you if you’re a god say “Yes.”

Don’t Try To Lead Because you Don’t Know The Steps

It’s Friday night and you’ve gone out swing dancing. Everyone is ready to get their Lindy Hop on. So naturally, you break out your smooth Electro-Hip-Hop Zumba Fusion moves. Sure, the music doesn’t really work, but this is how you get your groove on.

This is exactly what it’s like when you try and get the actors in a one-on-one to play the game you want to play and not the one they are trying to play with you. For those of us with the “Actor” background written on our character sheet, a one-on-one might feel like an improv class. After all, you don’t know the script, so anything goes.

Follow that instinct to the hilt and you’re going to miss out on what that performer is trying to communicate to you. The interplay in a one-on-one isn’t about altering the narrative — like telling Scrooge that he’s going to die if he doesn’t repent while the Ghost of Christmas Present is showing him around — a one-on-one is about the actor altering you. Say “yes” to the game they are playing. Try and learn the rules and play within the terms of the reality they are establishing.

Soon you’ll find yourself doing backflips like a pro.

Know Your Safeword
(Respect The Hard Rules)

Every production has some hard limits. At Sleep No More these include “keep your mask on,” “keep your trap shut,” and “obey the black masks.”

These are the limits of the sandbox. In gaming terms they are the “invisible walls” at the edge of a map. They can be frustrating, at times, because they break the illusion that you are in another world. They suck even more if you keep bashing your head against them by testing them at every opportunity.

Is it “bad design” to have so many invisible walls? Or is it just the limits of budget and physics?

One thing’s for certain: you’re not going to suddenly fix those problems by hurling yourself against the invisible walls. This is a game of make believe, after all, so lay off the need to break things when it’s clear that you’re about to break things.

In an immersive, even more than in a “normal” play, the burden of suspension of disbelief is shared by the actor and the spectator alike. That doesn’t mean the show doesn’t have to try — I’ve seen productions that artlessly asked the audience to go along for the ride — but it means that you’re better off doing a little of the heavy lifting if you want to get the most out of the experience.

Put The Fucking Phone Away Already

The other thing that’s going to take you right out of the imaginary world you’re exploring? That constant reminder that you are tethered to a digital reflection of yourself in the form of txt, tweet, and email notifications.

This isn’t even about how annoying a cellphone is to the other patrons in an experience, especially one that plays with darkness as a thematic motif the way so many immersives do. The simple fact is that you can’t capture that elusive sense of being present in another world if you are letting yourself be reminded that it’s not real every thirty-seven seconds.

Shut the damn thing off, stick it in a faraday cage, and ask the staff to watch it for you. (Okay, maybe not that last one.)

If you’re the kind of person who can’t be separated from their phone for five minutes then DON’T GO TO AN IMMERSIVE.

What Will You Find?
Only What You Take With You

The best immersive experience I ever had took a very tired, stressed out me and forced that guy to walk all over a building for an hour and a half. Given how cranky I was when I entered the door it could have easily gone south.

I’m not saying that you have to leave your baggage at the door, the way you might want to if you’re rehearsing a show, but it doesn’t hurt to be a little mindful of your state of mind before you cross the threshold. If nothing else it’s a good check of where your mental filters are at before you start the game.

It can also help you know what you’re projecting at the actors. They’re in the room with you, sometimes up close. Sometimes in ways that are fairly intimate. If you feel your inner rage bunny radiating heat you might want to cool down a little before jumping in. The actors will appreciate that, for sure.

This also means that you shouldn’t go to the show stinking drunk. I wouldn’t want to be at an immersive when I was at more than half my limit. That might put a dent in the show’s bottom line — a drink before showtime is one way to break even, after all — but better that than a bunch of loud, pushy drunkards grinding everything to a halt.

Do yourself a favor and watch your friends who have a tendency to underestimate their tolerance too. The last thing you want is them falling down the stairs, or falling asleep in Lady M’s bathtub after puking.

Wear Comfy Shoes and Clothing

I have a rule of thumb: if I see a bunch of chairs when I walk into an immersive’s play space something has gone seriously wrong.

Whether it’s a sandbox (Sleep No More, Ebenezer) or a dark ride (Then She Fell, At An Appointed Time) an immersive theatre piece is usually going to involve walking around. So make sure to be wearing shoes you’re good to march — even run — in (no heels). Don’t wear loose, draped clothing that can get caught/stepped on. You don’t have to forgo looking good, just think sporty. Large purses and backpacks are best left at home or in the car trunk.

There are exceptions to the “chairs is bad” rule, of course, but those usually come in the form of “site-responsive”/“site-specific” plays. Even then, the most engaging of these that don’t involve a unit set involve a little point to point action.

Always be prepared.

Each Show Makes Its Own Rules

This is the key thing to remember: every experience is likely to play with a different set of “rules” and expectations. Some producers will repeat structural motifs, but part of the fun is discovering what makes an immersive tick.

So keep your mind open, and don’t be surprised when the makers of a show decide the “break” some of these “rules” to get their own ideas across.