Summarize this content to 2000 words in 6 paragraphs in Arabic Unlock the Editor’s Digest for freeRoula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.Sprawled over several floors of a building in Manhattan’s Financial District, Life and Trust is essentially an attempt from Emursive, the producers of Sleep No More, to recapture what Punchdrunk pioneered with their immersive blockbuster. Where Sleep No More was a spellbinding deconstruction of Macbeth and other works, Life and Trust is a gothic-tinged historical pastiche that orchestrates more than 20 characters from the Progressive era, the first three decades of the 20th century. Their trajectories form a moveable feast of love, greed and folly, which can send you home happy or hungry.The show begins in an office under the sign of Faust: banker JG Conwell accepts a devil’s bargain to relive his youth instead of facing the Wall Street Crash of 1929. After his ponderous prologue, wordless dance-dramas commence across lushly designed rooms hosting a cross-section of urban intrigue and spectacle. Young Conwell spars with a lithe figure named Mephisto; his sister entwines in secret passion with her maid; vaudeville players carouse on and off the stage; a doctor wields needles for shadowy purposes. Throughout, the agile actors (who change roles week to week) clamber atop furniture and push off walls.As in Sleep No More, the novelty is that something is always happening somewhere, and you can go watch. Following the plot, however, means actually keeping up with an actor as they stride purposefully into the room and enter a meditative moment or sweaty clinch or acrobatic waltz. If not, you can always wander through empty sets such as a twilit garden, complete with soil-soft terrain, or stop short in a cramped tenement room or spooky chapel. (Credit for “experience direction and scenic design” goes to Gabriel Hainer Evansohn.) This is a voyeurs’ paradise, with both erotic frisson and the value of being privy to every character’s narrative, not just a select few. But the fragmentary experience can also generate the absurd feeling of catching only half of any story.Dramatically, Life and Trust tends to lean on fill-in-the-blank vibes (cursed legacy, filthy lucre, bohemian pathos) and there’s the perpetual mystery of lacking the full picture. But then you’ll find yourself in that tenement room with three actors, piecing together a lovely domestic dance around the rickety furniture, and all the grand putative themes of the production pale next to being there as their hushed, sweet-sad scene of camaraderie plays out. Or you might witness Conwell’s sister pace her plush quarters, then pick up an urn of ashes and spit inside — a wild private gesture that’s like an acerbic line of poetry.Figures inspired by scientist Marie Curie, anarchist Emma Goldman and actor Evelyn Nesbit appear during the production, which is scripted by Jon Ronson and directed by Teddy Bergman. The audience are part of the experience, hustling after characters like paparazzi and marching up and down (so very many) stairs between floors; in the mandatory horned masks, they evoke Ewoks in silhouette.As in many Punchdrunk shows, there’s a bravura climax, here a danse macabre on a grand scale. But the DIY serendipity of this massive three-hour production might just be asking too much of audiences (plus I had to climb about 20 flights of stairs). Even with the graceful artistry of these performers, the magic, narrative elegance and literary layers of Punchdrunk’s foundational work remain hard to match.★★☆☆☆To September 30, lifeandtrustnyc.com
