Last night, I went to see a play in a basement. Before the evening was out, I’d accidentally killed 2000 people and wiped out half of one of Britain’s oldest cities. And that’s not to mention the furious argument I had with a complete stranger, or the women’s rights rebellion I led in Parliament. Safe to say, it was an eventful night. Fortunately, it was all make-believe.
For King and Country, on now at London’s COLAB Factory, is immersive theatre taken to the next level. More of a giant game, it is based on the concept of alternate histories and set in Second World War London where, for the first time in living memory, Britain’s borders have been breached. A German invasion force is rapidly making its way towards the capital - and the audience are the only ones with the power to save the country. Rather than having a passive role in the play, they are in control of every twist and turn that occurs. Just as war is notoriously unpredictable, so too is the play. It's five acts are different every night, dictated not by the director but by the decisions of those who walk through the door.
One minute you’re brainstorming a propaganda speech; the next, you’re deciding who to drop bombs on and where, all while your colleagues in the Foreign Office try to avoid conflict with Russia. And of course, every country needs a Prime Minister - whether you’re going to be smart enough to elect someone who’s not going to get drunk on the power is up to you.
The show is the brainchild of Owen Kingston, the Artistic Director of Parabolic Theatre, who specialise in creating super immersive theatre productions. He explained to me that the concept came about when he and a colleague were working on another show in COLAB’s basement: “One of the guys mentioned how much it reminded him of the Cabinet War Rooms, so we started bouncing ideas about how we could do a World War Two show down there and how that would work. We started thinking about what would have happened if the proposed Nazi invasion of Britain had gone ahead, and it all flowed from there really.”
As an audience member, the show seemed to flow seamlessly. But Kingston revealed that its unpredictability made rehearsals difficult: “We only had a week and there was a real limit to what we could do anyway because we have no idea of what the audience are going to do. We have a plan of things that may or will definitely fire off, but there’s also a lot that we just invent in the moment.” This flexibility though, is part of what Kingston believes makes the show successful, admitting that audience members have tried to “break” its constraints with their choices: “I think it’s kind of unbreakable, partly because the audience have so much power - if you have a minister that goes rogue, everybody else can pull them back into line. For the actors, that provides a lot of freedom”.
That said, improvisational theatre is not the easiest bag and so the cast members were all hand-picked by Kingston. “It’s difficult to find people of that calibre, they’re tremendous”, he tells me with genuine pride and affection. Fair enough, there were still a couple of slips - a forgotten name here or there - but they recovered themselves so naturally that it really didn’t make a difference.
The cast had a large impact on artistic development of the play too. The Major, Kingston tells me, is a 1940s enthusiast who “dresses like this just for a laugh”. A self-confessed WW2 buff himself, Kingston admits that they did have to strip it back slightly “just to stop it getting too nerdy.” To be fair, they’ve done a great job. From the moment you arrive to the moment you leave, you are transported back in time. The guest list is scribbled on paper, the bar offers whiskey cocktails and spitfire ales, there are wirelesses and typewriters. Even the military dispatch radio, never a tool I thought I’d end up using, is the genuine article. Miraculously, it manages not to feel cheesy - perhaps because you’re too busy plotting your next move to question it.
It might also have something to do with the eerie relevancy of the themes. The decisions you make and the debates you have over them are strangely similar to events taking place around the world right now. Without realising it, you end up challenging your own perceptions. “When you put yourself in the position of it being your country that’s being invaded and doing what you think is right for your own people, suddenly that shifts your perception,” Kingston explained.
“You get to see the worst and the best of people," he adds. "I think the show gives you an opportunity to be a hero, to step up and do something courageous. You surprise yourself with what you’re able to do when you really put your mind to it. I’d like the audience to walk out feeling like they’ve achieved something, and to consider how close we did come to a very different world, and we’re only ever a few steps away from something utterly horrific."
If that was Kingston's aim, then he and his cast have succeeded brilliantly with For King and Country: it is a night out, a game of playing soldiers and a history lesson all rolled into one. It manages to broach dark topics and still be charmingly funny and to be accessible to someone with no knowledge of history. If every school could run politics lessons in this way, then the world would have a lot more engaged, more aware citizens. But more than anything, it’s just a ridiculous amount of fun.
King and Country is on at COLAB Factory until June 10. Tickets start from £29 ($39)
