On the plus side, this is not your ordinary Escape Room. It costs about twice as much and is WORTH IT. The tech and the immersive elements in this are first rate. ABSOLUTELY first rate. (With one astonishing low-tech exception.) You sort of get a hint of exactly how much quality you're going to get when you show up. It's in a mall and takes up what looks like SEVERAL storefronts. And you actually enter through a mock storefront. (You are warned about this in advance. The idea is that you're signing up for secret agent training so OF COURSE they're going to have you meet at a mock storefront. And it's a pretty good mock storefront. I mean, considering that this is JUST the place where you go in, store your crap (every group gets one giant box for their stuff), and fill out the waiver, they've put a lot of effort into filling the room with props (and human beings) to make it look like something it isn't.)
The room also requires four to six people. Ellen -- a very nice lady from Germany who I met while watching Andrew Scott play "Hamlet" -- and I decided that we would do this as soon as it was announced. But I can count to four, and me plus Ellen didn't quite get me there. At the same time, I've been trying to get Janice into an Escape Room with me for years. ACTUAL years. Janice is a quick thinker (I've known her since we were part of the advanced math group in Junior High School) and I've been curious how she'd attack a room. One of my regrets of this room is that I was paying so much attention to trying to get out of it, I didn't get to really watch how Janice got on. ANYWAY, I invited Janice and her daughter Beth to come along. (Janice lives in England, outside London, and they agreed to take the train in for this.) We also added Janet and Rob. Janet is a friend from work who -- for the second time -- found herself interested in going to London around the time I was going to London, and we were more than happy to add them to our crew. Besides, we needed all the help we could get.
(Second regret: We didn't actually get much time beforehand to discuss strategy, and we've (obviously) never done a room together. We were a little disorganized in the first part of this, because of that, but we got it together by the second room.)
OK, so they start you with your introduction. In a private room, they give you video clips and an introduction to both the secret agent organization you're "joining" as well as an introduction to, y'know, REASONING and shit. Making deductions from the evidence before you. Your (live human being) host is showing you slides and asking what you can infer from them, and it dawns on me that we are pretty much taking our sweet time here. It isn't just "sign the waiver and we'll drop you in the room"; it's sign the waiver and we'll get you all warmed up on the thinking (with much positive reinforcement along the way) and THEN we'll go in the room.
The little practice problem they give you is a modern take on a classic Sherlock Holmes story. This fact hits at least three of us at the same time. Beth notes the similarity aloud (go Beth!); I name the story. Armed with this insight, we solve that one right quick and get taken into the sitting room for our pre-game photo.
This is supposed to be ... I honestly can't remember what they claim it's for, but I figure it's to be used for identifying our bodies when we fail.
(Along the way to the sitting room, we pass a cardboard cutout of Martin Freeman as Watson. It's about two-thirds lifesize. Our guide comments that it's actual size, and we laugh. Our guide THEN comments that "some people say he looks like a hobbit." We laugh again, and I mentally adjust my estimation of the patter upward. This is VERY immersive and realistic, but also tongue-in-cheeck and playing with the fourth wall.)
In the sitting room, we're given a video introduction to our training by a (very bored) Mycroft and I'm honestly not really listening because any idiot knows that very soon something "bad" is going to happen and we're going to go into "this is not a drill" mode and THEN I'll pay attention.
It happens. It's hilarious. Andrew Scott is back as Moriarty. And just around the second you think, "Oh wait. Isn't he dead?" Video Moriarty says, "Yes, I'm dead." Honest to God, people, whoever wrote Moriarty's speech on this video deserves an Escapey or whatever they call awards for Escape Room writing, because we have just raised the fucking bar on the standard "Oh, hey, I've kidnapped your leader and you have one hour to save him" speech.
We're actually in the sitting room with another group, and we're both taken out and led to our own (identical) Escape Rooms. We know they have two sets; they probably have more. (The website suggests they've got five.)
The tech is superb. SUPERB. You never have to open or close a door; it's all automatic. There were a few physical locks; most were electronic keypads. A few physical puzzles; but, again, most were electronic. Lots of information you have to get out of a computer terminal. Another room with numerous moving parts -- hit the right thing and hidden displays appear; hit the other right thing and control pads elevate from hidden compartments. Hit the wrong thing and SOMEONE points you in the right direction. (Frequently "Sherlock," typing something on a screen. I am fairly certain that if you're actually GOOD at this, you will never hear from Sherlock at all. We heard from him a lot. Always encouraging, like, "Those first two things are correct," rather than, "You idiot; the third thing is obviously wrong.")
A couple times, they called us. A couple times, we called them. Clues were given. We will ignore the fact that we solved the puzzles but had issues working the telephone.
(At the end of the game, you receive a card on which Sherlock has graded your group, assigning you to one of nine group personality types. Each type has a positive and a negative. We are categorized as "The Academics." Our positive is "Breezed through the hard," and our negative is "Ensnared by the simple." I assume this was based on our inability to use a bloody telephone.)
It isn't that there were unlimited clues. (There WERE unlimited clues.) It's that you paid enough money for this that you weren't going to fail, so they would give you enough clues (and, in some cases, just automatically open the damn doors, even if you hadn't earned it) to get through.
(OK, so, like, a couple weeks ago, I was with my aunt and uncle and cousin and cousin's kid and they each did this VR thing where they chased and killed a minotaur. And my cousin killed the minotaur -- shot him in the head. And my cousin's kid killed the minotaur -- shot him in the body. And my uncle killed the minotaur -- shot him the delicate bits. And my aunt ... look, the minotaur just backed into that thing and the grate came down and crushed his head. Dead minotaur, ok? That's this escape room: the end result is always success; whether you actually had anything to do with it is another matter.)
Or, putting it another way, our little review card says our result was "Success" and our time was "60+" minutes. Yeah, it's a 60-minute escape room.
I've never had so much fun failing. It was not a VR room at all, but it was LIKE VR, in the sense that it was completely immersive (while you were always aware it was a game). By the time we got into the last room, there were four (possibly five) puzzles we had to solve and I saw we had about ten minutes to do it. (I may have said aloud, "We are so fucked.") But I GENUINELY felt like we were well and truly fucked. Urgent music playing urgently in the background; monitors in the center of the room showing different audio and video all hurrying us along; four puzzles we didn't even know HOW to approach; Moriarty about to take out our fearless leader; Sherlock about to be super disappointed in us; the shame of having to come online and admit to all of you that we failed big time ... Ellen later said she couldn't even concentrate on the game because it ACTUALLY felt stressful. She's not wrong.
I scratched myself at some point in the game. (Look! Blood!)
I didn't notice until afterward. I was so into solving this thing, I completely missed my own owie.
We failed (or, y'know, succeeded in over 60 minutes), and were escorted into the "you're done now" room. Our hosts explained the puzzles we were stuck on at the end (another 15 minutes and maybe...?) as well as a place I'd personally screwed up earlier (sorry, y'all -- I broke the cardinal rule by thinking I had the solution to something myself without sharing the clue with everyone).
They then showed us an IMPRESSIVE amount of boxes full of stuff and jokingly tell you that the last puzzle is figuring out which box has your stuff. I have a key. I remember what the lock looked like. I find a box with a lock like that, use my key, open the box, and find SOMEONE ELSE'S STUFF. That's right -- for all the high tech in the rooms, they have two padlocks on the lockboxes which take exactly the same key!
Once we took hold of our own belongings, they led us into the last room: a bar! (I figured it would be either a bar or a gift shop.) You're encouraged to grab a table and have a drink and deprogram. We had a great chat. Ellen and Janet had seen a LOT of the same plays, so they were talking theatre, while I caught up with Janice. Then Janice had to leave, so I got to talk more with Janet and Ellen. We discussed work and not work, and how to approach escape rooms (it was Janet's first, although her husband had done a few) and what we'd do differently the next time. Ellen said that the hosts told her they'll change this room in the future, so we can come back and play it again.
I hope we do.
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