Atmospheric, esoteric interactive storytelling for ages seven to 11 featuring marvellous, magical props
Storytelling about storytelling – it’s a perilous path. And this new interactive children’s show from immersive powerhouse Punchdrunk, developed with schools by writer and director Steve McCourt, does occasionally slip into florid descriptions of “whispers in the wind… wandering, waiting to land”. A brief blast of the Prodigy’s Firestarter promises excitement, but instead we are regaled with tales of shamans around the communal fire, the blaze “casting its stories in the shadow of the trees”.
Still, this is Punchdrunk – and it’s primarily the impeccably detailed, walk-through environments that fans come for. Set designer Mydd Pharo and his team of talented assistants – Maike Hitzeroth, Juliana Caviedes, Erin Tse, Julia Powell and Grace Nolgrove – do not disappoint.
We enter the space by knocking on the door of a wonderfully down-at-heel shop front, the display window full of fascinating, unsellable bric-a-brac. But not before cheery shop assistant Ali (affable Amari Harris at the performance I attended) pops out to throw a bucket of water into a gutter. He explains that the shop collects stories – by post, by carrier pigeon, from flower beds and, latterly, via a flooding roof.
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The theme of the elements is continued inside where we meet shopkeeper Cosimo – a calm, committed Rebecca Ella Clark, who manages to pull off breaking into ethereal song unexpectedly – amid shelves and tables crammed with exotic objects, featuring everything from gem stones to film projectors to a wooden ship’s wheel. A phone rings and a slightly confused child is encouraged to pick up, eventually informing us that another story is due to arrive. A candle magically lights by itself – and we learn that we are in the presence of an extremely rare fire story.
Our jittery mini-conflagration flits about the shop, jumping between Chinese lanterns and a Van Der Graaf generator (evocative lighting design from Sarah Readman), finally settling upon the shop’s yard – another enchanting space featuring a large, central brazier and yet more curious knick-knacks secreted in the overgrown foliage. This flighty flame insists on lingering in high-street lights, and we the audience are at one point encouraged to use our charcoal-drawing expertise to draw the light down while explaining our pictures to neighbours. I fancy that I drew a rather nice beach; Harris politely listened to my desperately dull backstory.
As we leave, we are exhorted to take with us “a spark of imagination”. Despite my quibbles with the airy-fairy storytelling, I will not forget the unexpected rush of wind as Ali takes down an air story from a top shelf in the shop (sound designer Dominic Kennedy); the large birdcage with clouds perching inside; or the blue sketchbook decorated with 3-D paper fish tails, as if the cover was a living sea. If only the text were as beautifully realised.
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