Storehouse

Review by Jack

⭐⭐⭐

Set in a vast disused warehouse in South London, Storehouse is an immersive production that drops you into a fractured, dystopian world where everything we’ve ever posted, liked, or shared is stored, sorted, and archived. As “Trustees,” audience members are invited to navigate the ruins of media culture and piece together not only what happened—but what it says about who we are now.

From the beginning, the story building is solid and confidently handled. You're introduced to a world that feels both futuristic and disturbingly close to our present. Characters are distinct, the tone is clear, and the piece invites reflection on how we interact with media. The sheer size of the space is undeniably impressive—it instantly sets Storehouse apart from many other immersive productions in ambition and scale.

But that scale is also its flaw. With so much ground to cover, certain areas felt underused or empty, and at times, the audience’s presence didn’t feel integral. As a Trustee, I often wanted more involvement—another task, choice, or moment to make my presence matter.

A missed opportunity was the ID badge selfie taken at the start. With such a strong message about media and identity, it would have been powerful—and slightly unsettling—to see our images reused in memes, fake tweets, or propaganda clips. It could’ve made the message feel far more personal.

The show ends in a final, stripped-back space where, for the first time, you see the bare bones of the set. While it made me appreciate the artistry behind what we’d just walked through, it also brought a sense of confusion—unsure of where to go or what came next, the momentum faded. Surrounded by lights and hopeful audio clips from your group, you’re eventually guided to the exit.

A show with a powerful message and striking atmosphere—but one that’s still finding the balance between spectacle, story, and meaningful participation.