Viola’s Room
Produced by Punchdrunk
Experienced in London, UK ~ 2024
By Eve Weston
The Experience & How it Works:
It’s an audio-driven narrative.
Upon arrival, you’re seated in a bar area at a table with your group. Your group will progress through the narrative together in a mostly linear fashion. But before you do, you’re taken into a liminal room where attendees remove their shoes and socks, put them in a box, write their name on a card that also goes in the box, pick up an audio headset and learn how to use it. (Note: The audio headset was notably excellent.) An usher guides everyone through the process and, once that’s all sorted, the group progresses through the door to Viola’s Room.
Why it’s Interesting, IMHO:
Punchdrunk has an excellent reputation for innovative immersive theatre experiences. Sleep No More was so unique, it’s easy to be curious how similar or different other Punchdrunk experiences might be. And I was!
Initial Impression & Critical Discussion:
Searching for connections between Punchdrunk’s disparate works, I concluded that Punchdrunk’s true specialty is creating unique, artsy, immersive spaces. While I’ve only seen two of their shows, the two shows were so different, yet they were both concerned with—and succeeded in—using set design to transport the visitor to another world and to evoke feelings. In both cases, Sleep No More and Viola’s Room, the narrative seems peripheral, an excuse to bring this world, this experience, to life.
Viola’s Room was fascinating in it’s vacillation between the realistic and the impressionistic. Audience members begin in the bedroom of the title character and everything about it feels like a real, lived in bedroom. Then, the audience is lured through a portal and, on the other side, there are a wide variety of spaces. Some of the more memorable include: a diorama in miniature of Viola’s engagement party which, if memory serves, is complete with moving shadows; and what I’ll call the tree room, which was filled with magical clouds of lights — a recurring visual theme.
There are some details toward the end that I’m tempted to get into, though I’d hate to spill any #spoilers. Suffice it to say, late in the piece we return to a place we’ve been before, only it’s different now. What felt confusing about this is that we had been told that the person who arguably would have changed the space had disappeared.
While the narrative of Viola’s Room did not clearly resolve, the experience itself was visually and viscerally satisfying. The bow on our gift-boxed shoes at the end was a particularly lovely and charming touch. Only now as I’m writing this does it occur to me — there may be potential for an interesting way to tie in the return of our shoes with the story. One of the rooms contained left-behind dancing shoes…
Experiential Viewpoint Expression (E.V.E.):
Disembodied, 1st person visual, 3rd person narrative, non-entity, robot
Hot Take: While the viewer remains human throughout the experience—and, as a result, would arguably have the same level of impact on the story or scene (“effectual POV”) as person in real life and the same level of impact on how they experience the story or scene (“posemperic POV”) as in real life, it doesn’t feel like we do.
Neither the characters in the story—who are only impressionistically depicted, if that—nor the narrator are ever aware of the audience’s presence. As a result, it’s hard to say that the audience’s presence has any impact on the story or scene, other than that, arguably, the narrator wouldn’t be telling the story if you weren’t there. However, since it’s pre-recorded, even that is debatable.
And while the audience member has the ability to move throughout the experience—in fact, they are required to walk and crawl in order to progress through the story—they do not actually have any ability to choose where they go. The path is proscribed; it’s not possible to defect. Even where you look is somewhat pre-determined. While one retains the ability to turn one’s head, if one neglects to look in the direction of the lights—which indicate where to go next—one can easily get left behind in the dark. It happed to your fair author.
One might surmise that if this were rendered in VR—which is an awesome idea, now that I think of it (Call me, Punchdrunk!)—the viewer might be moved through the story landscape at a consistent pace and that where they look may be controlled to some extent. That being said…
- If the movement of the audience member becomes automated, then it’s reasonable that the they could be allowed to look wherever they want because it won’t affect their ability to move through the space…
- If they’re allowed to look wherever they want, we could give audience members control over their pace—letting them linger to look at the captivating visuals—by creating a gaze-based VR experience. This could keep the conceit of the lights—which frankly, could be very cool—and then, only when the audience member looks at the next light would they move forward.
- If the VR experience were gaze based, then the audience member would be dictating the pace—much more than they are in the real world version of it—and the experience would then be mortal posemperic POV, which understandably can’t be offered to the audience member IRL for reasons of throughput and keeping groups together, not to mention the pre-determined pace of the non-responsive audio recording.
Story Anchor:
When guests at her engagement party relentlessly mention her bright, married future, Viola flees into the forrest, and then she’s compelled to dance until her feet bleed and to return every month at the full moon.
Pillars of Game:
Voluntary Participation — check!
Goal — to learn Viola’s story.
Rules —follow the lights.
Feedback — none.
Conclusion: This is not a game. While one gets left behind if they don’t follow the lights, that is not so much a feature as a bug. When one gets left behind, they have to use the equipment provided to contact an usher, who guides them to rejoin their group. The process of being reunited with the group feels very “behind the scenes” and outside of the experience rather than a penalty for not succeeding at a game. This is a good thing, just not a game thing.
Who Should Experience This?
Fans of audiobooks and podcasts. Lovers of mysterious spaces. Those enamored of cryptic narratives with resolutions open to interpretation.
Eve Weston believes in storytelling as a force for positive change. Creator of the first VR sitcom, she is also a published expert in XR narrative, author of the taxonomy for immersive POV and a professor at top-ranked film schools. Weston consults on extended reality (XR) storytelling and experience design for a range of clients, from top Hollywood producers to Silicon Valley manufacturers of XR hardware and software.
An award-winning journalist, Weston has written about VR for Ms. Magazine and The New York Post. A produced television writer, she’s written and developed for several ABC/Disney channels and shows. For more of her insights, enjoy her book 10 Kick-Ass Careers for Storytellers and follow her on Medium.
