A journey through Dead Letter No. 9, NYC’s new immersive cocktail party
When Sleep No More first arrived in New York City in 2011, it spawned a boom of immersive theater productions not just in the city, but spanning the globe. The murky lines between performer and audience member are blurred during these immersive experiences, making each performance truly unique and muddling the audience’s perception of reality. While Sleep No More certainly isn’t the only popular immersive theater experience around these days, it certainly opened to the most fanfare, and with the impending closing of the decade-long show, many wonder if a new up-and-comer will rise to take its place.
“Sleep No More isn’t the only immersive hit out there, but it casts a big shadow,” says Taylor Myers, former Sleep No More performer and Creator and Director of Dead Letter No. 9, a recently opened immersive space in Brooklyn. “It’s the longest-running, with the biggest footprint, and one cannot overstate the impact it made on the current generation of immersive creators.”
And while we owe the innovative show a debt of gratitude for guiding future shows at the crux of the immersive theater upsurge, there are certainly plenty of creative voices out there ready to steer this industry in a new direction.
“New immersive experiences like Dead Letter No. 9 will keep carrying the torch of groundbreaking, genre-defying, participatory theater for this generation and the next,” Myers tells Time Out New York.
And true to his word, Dead Letter No. 9 does break the mold when it comes to immersive experiences. This new show, or rather, experience, centers around something humans seem to be drawn to now more than ever—forging connections. With the rampant rise of technology and post-pandemic isolation, people seem more desperate than ever to develop meaningful relationships.
To begin the journey, you enter a “postal facility for lost mail,” a.k.a. dead letters, and the 90-minute exploratory journey starts in earnest through multiple different rooms designed to resemble far-flung wilderness destinations—from a camper van under the night stars of Joshua Tree to a front porch in the Great Smoky Mountains.
Each unique space invites guests to participate in deep conversation—prompting discussions surrounding your deepest fears, how you think AI will progress, what you think the downfall of the earth will be, and everything in between.
“I want folks to leave surprised by the authenticity of the connections they made,” explains Myers. These deep questions incite meaningful conversations among strangers, something that seems harder and harder to come by these days. Pair it with the laid-back atmospheres the team has created and it’s just like any other night hanging amongst friends. I found myself arguing, agreeing, and commiserating with rooms of complete strangers, all of us surprisingly open to sharing our thoughts and feelings in this intimate (and phone-free) setting.
Michael Ryterband, co-creator of Dead Letter No. 9 tells us, “I hope people come away from Dead Letter No. 9 feeling more connected to themselves and those around them. Maybe even to restore a little faith in humanity, reminding us that we can still truly engage and care for one another, no matter our differences.”
Indeed, a night spent at this immersive experience isn’t one you have to fear braving alone. While some people meandered from room to room in pairs or clusters, just as many wandered about solo. In fact, many people continue their conversations well after their 90 minutes are up— Dead Letter No. 9 is not only host to the immersive journey, but also houses a bar, restaurant, and nightclub for those looking to continue their evening of comradery.
Either before or after your journey, participants can pull up a seat at the venue’s spacious bar, where deliciously balanced cocktails, like the Airmail to Jamaica and I’m a Lil Ol’Fashioned will surely whet your whistle. Pair your libations with some light bites from the menu and you won’t be disappointed. Smoked trout dip, vegan chili with cornbread, and blister-fried peanuts all hit the spot and only help contribute to the table discussions happening around you. And those who need a little liquid courage to come out of their shells can also partake in a handful of beer and wine options throughout the immersive experience itself.
Although difficult to know what to expect when stepping foot into a new immersive performance, this was one of the more surprising experiences I’ve ventured into. Although there are “performers” (one in each room) to help foster dialogue, they act more as guides, ensuring that things keep flowing. The audience, though, are the real performers, curating one another’s experience with their own thoughts and opinions. And really, isn’t that what immersion is all about?
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