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Secret Cinema: Tell No One review – ‘enormous fun’

Secret Cinema: Tell No One at secret venue, London, Secret Cinema: Tell No One at secret venue, London. Photo: Hanson Leatherby
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Comrades, Secret Cinema’s latest adventure is a call to arms – or, perhaps, a call to disarmament. Amid the stylish folderol – the online world that assigns a rank and reveals the secret location – a more serious side emerges than in previous Secret Cinema incarnations. It’s entertaining, yes, but the suggestion is that politics may not have come as far as we’d expect since the Commie-bashing 60s.

Even the walk from the station to the secret warehouse feels disturbingly like a vision of the capital under martial law – a proleptic snapshot of a future in the hands of Boris and The Donald, perhaps. Army trucks roll past, parades of punters keep to singe file in costumes of varying degrees of commitment to the cause.

Once inside, with phones sealed in opaque bags, the warehouse is a stunning military base. But as ever with big immersive events, capitalism creeps in; pricey hotdogs and weak drinks flogged at the several bars sit at awkward odds to the show’s message; it can’t quite decide if it wants to motivate its crowds to political action, or just let them sink six quid into food served in mess tins (on top of the £67 ticket price, of course). In this way its more than a little reminiscent of the company’s last big project, The Empire Strikes Back.

Still, exploring the bustling military base and performing challenges for army generals is enormous fun. It’s a thrilling environment, so much of which makes sense once the film starts to play.

When it does, in a gorgeous projection-covered room, the film explodes beyond the confines of the screen. Sets are lovingly rebuilt, scenes carefully re-enacted and it becomes truly three-dimensional without the need for flimsy plastic glasses.

So, what is the film? Haven’t you guessed, it’s obviously █████████████████ [this review has been redacted].

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Lovingly designed cinematic adventure slightly tainted by the constant pressure to spend