A Faustian Bargain Itself: Emursive’s “Life and Trust”

At long last, the immersive titan Sleep No More, will—well—sleep no more. The long-running New York immersive theater piece will close this fall, pending another extension. So what will fill its shoes? Producer Emursive has a contender with their new show Life and Trust. While not made by Punchdrunk—which in fact has tried a few new shows out in London to varying degrees of success—Life and Trust follows the old adage “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.” For better and for worse, Life and Trust is the spiritual successor to Sleep No More.

As a large-scale piece of immersive theater, Life and Trust takes place across several floors of a converted bank space in New York’s financial district. The show casts audience members as potential investors as they enter an ornate lobby of the fictional Life and Trust bank. You’re guided into the office of J.G. Conwell, a banker who made his fortune from cough syrup and coffee. His opening monologue does a lot of heavy lifting, since it’s the only narrative moment you’re guaranteed to see until the end. From there, you’re let loose into the Life and Trust bank to explore the space, follow various performers, and ideally learn more about the deal J.G. Conwell made.

This last point is why—unlike for Sleep No More—I actually recommend going into Life and Trust knowing a good deal about it. Sleep No More draws much of its narrative from Macbeth, which has enough of a cultural touchstone to clue audiences in on the story. Even if you’ve never read the Shakespeare play, you’re probably aware of the general shape of the narrative. For Life and Trust, the show draws primarily from Faust, among a few other works.

While “a deal with the devil” is a strong enough inciting incident, it can’t quite guide a whole narrative, especially one that also tries to layer the classic tale on top of the stock market crash of 1929. It’s an intriguing conceit, but a shaky foundation for a work in which the audience can choose what to see with some exceptions. I never encountered the two leads until the end—the young J.G. Conwell is played by a different actor than in the opening.

That said, many folks may argue that these shows don’t exist to provide a narrative, but rather vibes, aesthetics, and a sense of wonder. I’d say that Life and Trust tries to have this cake and eat it too—more on that later—but otherwise comes off as successful. The performances prove especially noteworthy, with the mostly silent actors expertly conveying emotion through body language and facial expressions.

And of course, the movement and choreography by Jeff and Rick Kuperman is impeccable. A small detail, but I really appreciate how the performers and the golden masked stagehands keep audiences from getting in the way of the action. Deftly directed by Teddy Bergman and the Kuperman brothers, Life and Trust has dances, fight scenes, and moments of intimacy. All of these numbers have inventive staging carried out by performers working up a sweat—often quite literally.

And there’s hardly a bad viewing spot, even when certain scenes get crowded. The lighting design by Jeanette Yew and production design by Gabriel Hainer Evansohn really seem curated to allow for great vantage points from all different angles and spots. At certain points, I had such a good angle that my view felt cinematic. Being the camera, I could decide on a closeup or wide shot myself. I particularly enjoyed moments when characters would produce a letter, photograph, or contract for audiences to indulge their inner voyeurs. I also appreciated the sound design, with its pulsing Hans Zimmer-like score courtesy of Taylor Bense and Owen Belton.

As a show with the same basic formula, Life and Trust invites comparison to Sleep No More. It shares many of the same elements; audiences wear masks, the performers rarely talk but move a lot, there’s a large space to explore, and the show loops multiple times. If the ingredients are largely the same, the flavor is different. The difference in narrative does necessitate some difference in form.

And while I already mentioned the virtues of the space, the performers, and the overall design, there’s one holdover from Sleep No More that I’m going to say something controversial about. Life and Trust retains the coveted one-on-ones: scenes performed for a single selected audience member. However, I honestly think Life and Trust would be stronger without them.

Don’t get me wrong, the Sleep No More one-on-ones are great. But in a show like Life and Trust where a narrative gets introduced so strongly from the get-go, it’s annoying to have a performer go off with an audience member when that’s your lifeline for the story. Ideally, these exclusive scenes would accommodate a handful of people—or let audiences watch. I don’t need to interact, I just want my journey to continue instead of screeching to a halt. Even an “alternate scene” for those left outside would help.

As such, on the two occasions when a performer went off to do their one-on-one, I wandered around aimlessly to explore the set or find someone else to follow in media res. And while the set of Life and Trust lends itself well to sight lines, it doesn’t have too many nooks and crannies to open or investigate. It’s more stylish than the McKittrick but lacks its lived-in feel. The show loops twice, unlike Sleep No More which loops thrice. For Life and Trust, I did feel I needed a third run for when I finally grasped its machinations.

But while the middle could use some shaking up, the ending of Life and Trust comes as the one element that really seeks to improve upon Sleep No More rather than imitate it. And it succeeds gloriously. The grand finale—the details of which I won’t spoil—exists as an extended set of scenes that ties everything together. It’s got a definitive climax for the plot, a great set of performances, and a pulse-pounding choreographed final number.

If you enjoyed Sleep No More, you’ll likely enjoy Life and Trust. And if Sleep No More wasn’t your cup of whisky, Life and Trust probably won’t change your mind. I do wish that Emursive took the opportunity to iterate more on what they gleaned from the ten-plus years of Sleep No More’s run. If J.G. Conwell can’t escape 1929, Life and Trust feels trapped in 2011. But at the same time, like the U.S. stock market that ran strong for most of the 20s, Life and Trust does have enough stability and credit to launch. I could see it having a good life ahead of itself as Emursive has built trust with a tried and mostly true formula.

Life and Trust plays at the Conwell Coffee Hall at 6 Hanover Street, New York, NY. Tickets are available here.