![Yaniv_Schulman2 Interactive Play Sleep No More Feels Like a Game, But More Confusing](https://www.wired.com/images_blogs/gamelife/2011/07/Yaniv_Schulman2.jpg)
Macbeth (Nicholas Bruder) dances with Lady Macbeth (Sophie Bortolussi).
Photo: Yaniv Schulman
NEW YORK — I watched a man die in Manhattan last week. Frozen in place, unsure whether or not to get involved, I stood and did nothing as another man suffocated him with a pillow. What else could I have done? Should I have stopped him? If I had tried, would it have accomplished anything?
Moments like that are just part of the show in Sleep No More, an interactive theatrical performance that at times seems like a videogame come to life. It begins in a dimly lit bar, where audience members are greeted by a woman straight out of the Victorian era and a dapper man who calls people his “lovelies.” After grabbing a drink or two, everyone is given white masks, told to put them on and escorted to a cramped elevator. They are then unceremoniously dropped into a six-floor mansion and told to dig, explore and be curious — because “fortune favors the bold.”
From then on it’s an adventure, an open-world romp that feels like a blend of L.A. Noire and Cirque du Soleil. People can examine random objects throughout the grandiose scenes and sets, follow actors around the mansion and try to piece together parts of the story, which is based heavily on Shakespeare’s Macbeth. It’s a nonlinear narrative in which the order of events — and consequently, the plot — is determined by what you see.
The primary problem with this method of storytelling is that you’re not really part of it.
![Yaniv_Schulman1 Interactive Play Sleep No More Feels Like a Game, But More Confusing](https://www.wired.com/images_blogs/gamelife/2011/07/Yaniv_Schulman1.jpg)
The porter (Matthew Oaks) sits at a typewriter, audience members watching in the background.
(Photo: Yaniv Schulman)
Sleep No More has two rules: Keep your mask on and don’t talk to anybody. Outside those restrictions, you can do whatever and go wherever you want. At one point you might wind up in a dimly lit graveyard, alone and terrified. Then you’re in a ballroom, where garishly dressed gentlemen and ladies are dancing to an infectious beat. Next you’re in a pantry, opening jars of candy and trying to decide whether eating them will kill you. Problem is, nothing you do really matters.
Audience members will never see the whole show. The actors and actresses will perform scenes that some people won’t get to glimpse, simply because they were in the wrong place or got caught up in a packed crowd of other sweaty onlookers. There are no save games or replays; in order to see everything, you’ll have to buy tickets again.
Because of this, it’s easy to leave Sleep No More without understanding anything you just saw. Who was that pregnant woman, and why was she violently dancing with her husband? Why was every clock in the study covered with a black cloth, then uncovered when I returned later? What was up with that bed full of potatoes? And why was I even there?
Though the play’s individual moments are presumably meant to evoke emotions from the silent audience, they had very little effect on me. I couldn’t help but wish the performance was more like a videogame.
Compare Sleep No More to an open-world game like Fallout: New Vegas. While Sleep No More drops you into the middle of a performance and expects you to figure out what’s happening, New Vegas sets up the story first, then lets you loose. More importantly, New Vegas makes you feel like the things you do matter. Whether you’re shooting down raiders or discovering a pile of bones in a child’s crib, you’re always an active participant, integral to the story. Not just an observer.
In detective game L.A. Noire, your character can pick up objects and examine them for clues. He will then comment on their relevance to the story and, when appropriate, attempt to solve the puzzles they hold. You can do the same in Sleep No More, except there are no puzzles or indications of objects’ relevancy. You can scrutinize hundreds of different items — some of which might just be trash that other audience members left behind — and still never really understand why you’re looking at them. It’s tough to feel any sense of reward, or accomplishment, or even emotional gratification from your actions.
Maybe I’m just not smart enough for an experience like Sleep No More, but my time at the show was confusing and frustrating. I came craving a story and left with nothing but flashy fragments and uncomfortable moments.
When I stood and watched that man kill the other man, I did nothing. I didn’t know why it was happening or even who the characters were. I didn’t really care that much — partially because I didn’t understand the situation and partially because I was relegated to nothing more than background noise.
I should’ve just stayed home and played videogames.
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