Intriguing idea, but this Zoom whodunit is something of a trial
The ability to juggle lots of paraphernalia on your computer screen is essential
As was the case with theatre, so Covid-19 put a spoke in the wheels of the justice system. Jury trials have only recently resumed in a modest, controlled way after being suspended for months. One contentious option touted as a means of avoiding physical proximity but ensuring a due degree of deliberation is a “remote jury”. Much of the requisite video conference-call technology exists; in fact, it has been widely adopted since the pandemic.
Indeed, it has been much used by theatre-makers trying to hook stay-at-home audiences. Cannily enough, Exit Productions, a company specialising in immersive and interactive experiences, has seized on the artistic possibilities of judicial decision-making with an online theatre game, Jury Duty.
The premise (artistic director Joe Ball devised the project with others’ input) is simple. Participants are required, over almost two hours, to decide the case of Harry Briggs, an investigative journalist arrested near a burnt-down office block containing the body of a cleaner. Lengthy sentences await if he’s found guilty of arson, manslaughter or murder.
Those expecting a fairly hands-off experience be warned: this isn’t the kind of cosy, conventional whodunit or courtroom drama theatre audiences tend to lap up – The Mousetrap and Witness for the Prosecution being the prime long-running examples. It’s a different kettle of fact-fishing. Once you’ve logged in (via Zoom), you’ve barely had the chance to acknowledge each other (I had a combination of old mates and total strangers, around a dozen) before being introduced to a groaning dossier of digitised evidence.
There’s discreet help at hand from a (heard but not seen) moderator and the sporadic opportunity to quiz the defendant in a separate interview “room”, but nothing in the way of coppers, witnesses and barristers conducting their usual business. The acting challenge falls on the shoulders of Tom Black as the shifty, plaintive Mr Briggs – the actor smartly fielding often fierce questioning with improvised self-exculpatory chat.
The bulk of the event’s sweat and tears pour forth from the attendees. The show is as much a test of our character as that of the accused. A legalistic mind is desirable, the ability to juggle lots of paraphernalia on your computer screen (social media screengrabs, police and psychiatric reports, stray bits of paper etc) essential. As much confusion as clarity mounts as more information comes in – with e-missives from Briggs’s associates further dividing opinions about the man in the dock and wider ramifications emerging. Afterwards, phew, all is revealed.
As a team-building exercise, it’s fascinating – competition stirs as to who finds out the most and fastest. Among my motley crew of media types, some became deadly serious, others seemed to find the enforced sleuthing deadly dull.
At points, especially when my laptop froze, I buckled, as if asked to file a tax return while cracking the Enigma code.
The verdict? On balance, room for greater theatrical enlivenment, certainly, but it’s brain-boxily ambitious enough to warrant a niche captive audience long after we’ve thrown away the keys of lockdown.