SECRETIVE THING 215 by Secretive Thing

“Hush Hush for a Harrowing Ride”

Reviewer: Lee Shu Yu
Performance: 19 August 2018

Secretive Thing 215 starts with a marketing gimmick: a suspicious email invitation with a not-so-subtle title.

There is no pertinent information available, creating some measure of suspense in this reviewer. But in this way, the performance has already begun. By the time I am at the site – an unassuming suburban neighbourhood disclosed via text only the day before – paranoia has set in.

I soon learn all this is not a mere gimmick: this experience is not for the faint-hearted.

The creators of Secretive Thing 215, “Lemon and Koko”, have created an immersive psychological thriller. The experience lasts between 30 and 60 minutes, depending on one’s own progress. Each participant roleplays with a fictional storyline and receives instructions to complete simple tasks via a Whatsapp channel. There are crucial moral decisions to make as the conflict slowly unfolds.

From automated texts to completing tasks at seemingly unmanned stations, there is hardly any direct connection with another human being.

Everything is remotely controlled and understated. It is difficult to tell where the theatre starts and real life ends.

This is Secretive Thing 215’s fear factor, and it is executed seamlessly. To passers-by, it does not look remarkable. Yet, as I receive timely instructions that accompanies each, I am very aware that I am being watched.

I tune in to a radio network that the team has created to set the context of the play, marveling at the detail. The audio quality can be clearer and more consistent, but it is an effective way to create suspense and warn of antagonists lying in wait to thwart my journey.

Weaving through shopfronts and bus-stops, I am painfully aware of how the theatrical “safe space” no longer exists.

And to be honest, I miss that security.

I catch a glimpse of an envelope similar to the one I am clutching sitting inside a suspicious black sedan and I recoil from it in fear. A passer-by brushes by me and I startle. Every element of the public space has become a threat.

But just as the plot hits its climax, the experience is over. As much as I am left slightly disappointed and wanting more, I am relieved and exhausted.

Secretive Thing 215 has used technology dramatically and theatrically, staging the tensions between information overload and virtual loneliness. The plot of the performance needs more exploration but the paranoia generated by the dramaturgy sufficiently occupies the audience not to notice the plot weaknesses.

The artful distilling of the mystery and suspense that swells into an overwhelming crescendo while the world remains oblivious is unnerving.

One exits the experience like stepping away from a dream, never to know its elusive alternative endings, or confirm it even happened.