Werewolf *****

The audience enters a saferoom, being screened and given safety instructions in hushed tones. This is not a drill, apparently.

There has been an outbreak of Lycanthropy (the transformation of a person into a werewolf). Significant security measures have been imposed, including nighttime curfews and emergency powers. Once the saferoom is closed, nobody will be allowed in or out for around a week. All lights must be extinguished when night falls, to minimise the risk of external attack. But there is a more immediate danger: if an infected person is already inside, everyone is trapped with them.

This is an immersive, highly interactive event. Each audience member is given a specific and personal instruction, ranging from the relatively trivial to a key plot device. Initially the room enjoys bonhomie, but as the days pass, increasingly fraught events unfold, leading to paranoia, conflict and bickering. The room’s inhabitants begin to mistrust and then turn on each other.

The show is led by three ‘wardens’ (Stella Reid, Hannah Kelly and Joel Baxendale). However, the wardens seem to have little experience of crisis management and their authority appears to be fragile. Their attempts to maintain order become another source of tension.

In an era in which we have become accustomed to accessing almost unimaginable quantities of information at the press of a button, one of the most effective aspects of Werewolf is the scarcity of useful information available to its audience. We are forced to make potentially life-saving judgements based on intuition, instinct and, perhaps uncomfortably, prejudice. Who can we trust when we have so little evidence?

The audience can mostly choose to actively engage in events, or be observers. The other unsettling aspect is that identity is never clear: are some of the audience members plants? Is my immediate neighbour a werewolf? And, if they are, what exactly should I do about it?

The cast display impressive agility in working the room, maintaining tension but driving the narrative within the confines of a tight Fringe timeslot. They are all quick-witted and read the room well, adapting their performances to the unpredictable behaviour of the audience.

Werewolf leans into various themes. The struggle for leadership inevitably evokes Lord of the Flies, while the mechanics draw on the myriad gaming experiences that have become part of contemporary culture. The recent pandemic also hangs over the production, with its enforced isolation and lockdown restrictions providing an uncomfortably familiar point of reference. More existentially, Werewolf invites us to imagine a post-apocalyptic reality in which the usual structures of authority and information have collapsed — and to consider how we might respond ourselves.

Binge Culture have devised and executed this production with considerable skill. Werewolf is by turns unsettling, frightening and funny, constantly playing with the boundary between theatre and social experiment. It’s an experience to die for...

Summerhall, until 31st August.