Punchdrunk

On Friday night, The Fool and I were initiated into the Punchdrunk cult.

As we crept through the trademark red doors of Paddington's old Royal Mail sorting office to see 'The Drowned Man: A Hollywood Fable' we discovered the haunting world of Temple Studios; a British outpost for Hollywood's Republic Pictures, established in 1942, before collapsing in a dusty cloud of secrecy during the 1960s.

This is immersive theatre on an EPIC four-floor scale. The cast are fantastic, but it is the detail of the set that leaves you with flashbacks long after this tale of betrayal, sex and murder has wrapped.

You're encouraged to 'go it alone' to construct a narrative that is purely driven by you. Of course, The Fool jumped at the chance to have a break from me and went chasing after the glamorous Hollywood beauties whilst I chose to get down and dirty with some cowboys!

Everybody has a completely unique adventure and this pretty much sums up mine:

Beautiful cowboys, crumpled love notes, bar brawling, lidless lipsticks, soft sand sliding, broken face molds, pitch black voids, ritual and obsession, rusting vintage cars, heart-racing scores, fear, examination, humanless corpses, woodchip, corporate corruption, unbalanced power, open doors, locked doors, drag, desperate auditions, dance, check floors, red velvet, motel rooms, radio transmissions.

I must admit, after The Fool and I tiredly but excitedly exchanged tales upon being reunited, I did get pangs of that childish jealousy which rears when you know you've missed out on something... I guess that's an inevitable side-effect of getting involved in a show with THIS much depth.

The tickets certainly didn't come cheap (£47.50-85 a pop!), but in all honesty I've worked on film sets with less detail than this, so I think the price tag is justified.

If you've been to see the show, or any other Punchdrunk production, I'd love to hear all about the flashbacks you're having too!