Tunnel-228 (Punchdrunk)

I was truly annoyed when "Tunnel-228" sold out long before I got near the website (tickets were free and it had Punchdrunk's name on it so that was hardly surprising). I spent days just refreshing the booking page silently praying that, by some miracle, tickets would appear. As it happened, all I had to do was show up and ask. I was nearby at the Young Vic in the afternoon so I didn't have much to lose and the delightful man on the door let us right in.

What's inside isn't quite as exciting as the theatrical Punchdrunk shows (I had quite a time at Masque of the Red Death), this is like the craziest art gallery you'll ever find. The stewards are dressed in balaclavas and heavy clothing and are more than a little intimidating; the lighting is low often near pitch black. Initially unsettling, as your eyes adjust to gloom there is much to find and the exploratory nature of the whole thing made it all the more exciting (although finding the exit proved surprisingly difficult). I couldn't begin to describe all the work inside, some of it is obvious, not dissimilar to what you might find in a regular gallery, other items are scurried away in corners (I particularly liked the tiny bingo hall). The complex contraption that runs throughout a large part of the tunnels is very clever, a fantastical bit of engineering. What didn't work overly well was a sense of overall theme. I've read much about this being a riff on "Metropolis", but beyond a mild dystopic feel I didn't really get that.

Despite the emphasis on aesthetics, a little exploration reveals a few Punchdrunk "experiences". I wandered around knocking on every door I could find for some time. The first time a door finally opened the actor irritatingly (perhaps predictably) grabbed my nervous looking friend who was hiding behind me so the excitements inside remain a mystery to me (something about an interrogation). Knocking on the ladies toilet (as you do) gave me my little one to one. I must confess that I was sufficiently enraptured by the whole thing that little of what the rather pretty girl said actually reached my brain. Eventually she passed out on my shoulder and a creepy fat man emerged from behind some curtains (I jumped) and slowly led me out.

Atmospheric fun with a little of the Punchdrunk magic sprinkled on. Knocking on doors enlivens what is otherwise essentially a trendy art show. Tickets are all gone but showing up and begging might just get you in. This is worth the effort.