You guys know I love a good, proper immersive show; while nothing seems never comparable to that wonder of imagination that was the Drowned Man, I have in the last few years found some gems here in London or sometimes in New York too during past trips (Then She Fell still engrained in my memory).

Occasionally there are some duds too, or promising but short lived events too.

I am still not sure where Storehouse by Sage & Jester will fall.

Described enthusiastically as “a bold new immersive theatre experience that will leave you questioning everything you think you know about truth and trust” , Storehouse is an hour and half long affair, in linear fashion, so that you’re moved on by performers with little time to peruse the impressive sets.

What is Storehouse about exactly?

The official site muses: “Hidden within a vast warehouse – once the paper store of Britain’s most influential newspapers, you’ll uncover a sprawling, ever-shifting archive. Now used by an underground collective to house all the digital information ever shared – every news story, message, and meme is being meticulously stored in a quest for a higher collective wisdom. But as narratives begin to clash and compete, and with their last remaining founder fading fast, a successor is desperately needed. Someone must decide what’s preserved, what’s rewritten and what’s destroyed. Are you ready to take a stand?”

No, it doesn’t make a lot of sense at all. Once we arrive, we’re told to go to a specific ‘reception’ where we sit down in a a comfy, warmly lit waiting room, given lanyards with our own photo pass and informed we’re the ‘trustees’ of Storehouse digital archive and we’ve got some sort of mission. One of the company’s mottos is inside a fortune cookie and while we’re told by a lady on the video screen, we should all memorize these mottos (and I much feel like I am at work with all company values and stuff like that). Then we’re finally ready to move to Storehouse.

It’s meant to be set in 1983, and as we move to our first actual scene, Duran Duran’s classic Hungry like the wolf welcomes us in. For the next 90 minutes or so we move form one scene to the next, accompanied by actors dressed in pretty dodgy 1980s mock fashion (frankly they look more like clowns than scientists), and after the first room (a book binding lab where an engaging performance takes place), the narrative really stops making much sense or being anywhere near coherent.

The set are detailed, carefully created: the book binding room is fun and you do get some chances to look around too. The use of light and light effects is very clever, particularly towards the finale. Some sets – especially the second one – really take inspiration from other shows, and I felt I was in a bigger, bolder version of one of Viola’s room’s sections.

There is some interactivity with other guests and the cast, you might be given a bespoke task to carry out, perhaps but I did find myself less and less interested in whatever the story was or might have been, it is just too jumbled up to keep you engaged. The last room before the finale, while it has a cool visual effect, it’s also really shambolic in dialogue, and the ‘message’ feels quite patronising and school-like.

In fact, the entire production in the end feels like aimed at much younger audiences (but it’s for ages 12+). Productions I attended with my 8yo had much better storytelling (from the commercially promoted Paddington Experience to the mesmerising Enitan’s Game).

The finale is a wow moment, primarily because you realise how enormous the space is, how ambitious the set, and how expensive it must be to run this show. You also realise that your group isn’t the only group, and as you congregate in one place, you wonder if the other groups did follow the same (weak) storyline and did they see something else (was it even better?). Also to note, there is the somehow misleading idea that the ‘cast’ included names such as Tony Jones and Meera Syal as these were heavily featured in marketing comms, yet it’s simply their recorded voices during the performance.

The bar

You can stay for a drink at the end, and if you’re lucky to visit on a day like the one I did, then the view over the Thames, Greenwhich and Canary Wharf is perhaps the perfect ending to a somehow confusing experience: I loved the set, I loved the scale of it, and I love meeting up with some of my YMBBT fellow volunteers (by chance!) so I had a great night overall, and for £15 a ticket (flash sale deal), it was definitely worth a visit.

Truth Lies Here

STOREHOUSE is at Deptford Storehouse, SE8 for a strictly limited 16-week run from 4 June 2025. Tickets available here