Tag: life and trust

A news-bomb went off this Sunday morning at breakfast, when Cameron showed me this screenshot of an email…

This is how ticket holders, fans, and the greater community found out.

Emursive’s Life and Trust was not announcing closing, but was OFFICIALLY CLOSED.

But at least their regret is so sincere that Sincerely got capitalized.

Breakfast was now served with a side of “WHAT. WHAT???” We only had the chance to see the production once, but we had plans to return multiple times; in fact, every time a new immersive would entice us to NYC, we planned to collect more viewings of Life and Trust. Much like we did with Sleep No More (see my tribute).

Life and Trust was in many ways meant to replace Sleep No More. Six floors, 100,000 square feet of space, over 25 characters, a masked sandbox structure with dance and nudity and mystery and a build budget comfortably in the millions.

But that was not only not meant to be. It was suddenly, violently not meant to be.

It ran for only 10 months.

Let’s parse this email’s sentence for a moment: “We apologize for the late notice and for the disappointment and inconvenience this has caused, and appreciate your understanding and support.” 10 million dollars says that sentence was written by ChatGPT. Look at all those weasely “and” clauses. It’s gross. How sudden was this that ChatGPT is writing the apology note?

Three days later, Emursive has still not released any further explanation. Fan speculation is running rampant. It appears no tragedy occurred—inside sources say no death or injuries, and Saturday’s show seemed to proceed like any other Saturday night show. So what the hell??

While we do not know why they closed so suddenly, and we may never know, no one can dispute that they did close suddenly.

And that is fair game for a rant.

What happened

Emails went out to ticket holders around 7 AM local time on Sunday, April 20, Easter morning, a major holiday when we’re more likely to be with families and away from our phones. The show scheduled for that evening was cancelled, as were all subsequent shows. Links to reserve tickets were no longer working.

Around 8 AM, they deleted all posts from Instagram, as if the show never existed. A few hours later, they posted this…

…which made no one happy. Their Instagram now consists of a couple of generic 2019 building photos, all the show’s lush photos and videos just GONE.

To deny fans and would-be-fans who said “I’ll get around to seeing it soon, it’s not like it’s going anywhere” a chance at a closing show is insane. It’s leaving money on the table. Remember, Emursive were the producers responsible for the seemingly infinite closing announcements of Sleep No More last year. If they could have milked this, they would have.

But for some reason, they didn’t.

But that’s not what has me in rant mode. What has me in rant mode is that an hour before emails went out the public (6 AM), they told cast, crew, and staff.

Via email or text message.

I have a personal source that confirms this, plus the Instagram stories of actors that popped up saying they were as blind-sided Sunday morning as we were. But for them, the memo was that they were suddenly, violently out of work.

That’s unconscionable.

Rant

I don’t care what happened. You don’t treat people this way. Even if there was no conceivable way to honor the Sunday show (which I still don’t understand), you should share the news in person, zoom, over the phone. Ticket holders could have waited a few more hours to get screwed via email (see Sleep No More‘s permitting scandal), so that cast could be informed in a respectful manner. Above all else, you offer an explanation. You apologize and own it. Right? RIGHT???

I haven’t worked at a big company before. Is this really what’s happening? People get fired via text message or email? No explanation? Have companies truly grown that spineless that they’re ghosting employees like after a bad date???

I think we need an immersive critiquing the grotesqueries of capitalism…

It’s possible (speculation warning!) Life and Trust was a failed business model. Conceived based on pre-pandemic expenses and pre-pandemic ticket sales, the model just couldn’t survive in the post-pandemic world. Costs are up, audiences are down; it’s not what it used to be. We’ve seen this story play out with Punchdrunk’s The Burnt City and Disney’s Star Wars Galactic Starcruiser. Epic (and expensive) immersives closing well before they could make their investment back, because the operating expenses alone had grown too great to bear.

But that doesn’t give you license to be a dick about it.

Other clues have been mounting that Emursive may be, quite frankly, dicks. We had not one, but two permit scandals around the closing months of Sleep No More, with audience notified about an hour before showtime that a predictably cancelled show was officially cancelled.

Then there’s discord rumors swirling of Life and Trust staff not getting paid on time. Plus the fact that half of the original cast chose not to renew their contracts.

Then there’s this performer’s recent post…

Is it possible Emursive couldn’t announce a closing period of shows because they lacked the good will of their cast? I’m just asking questions here.

But let me state this loud and clear…

In the business of the performing arts, your product is your people. You have to care about your supply side (aka YOUR PEOPLE), or you’ll have nothing to sell at all.

How to manage better

I can’t help but think Emursive could have done better. Maybe I’m naive. I run a minuscule business. I know the bigger things get, the harder it is to manage, and a large organization takes multiple angel-tier managers in order for the organization to care about its people. That’s…well…the capitalist grind, right?

But what if we realize the maxim above, that profitability is only maximized when we take care of our people. Maybe that’s the magic trick we need.

Another caveat: I bet there were great managers and directors and producers involved in Life and Trust who led with integrity and kindness. But the ultimate decision makers here, given the above set of facts, don’t qualify.

At Strange Bird Immersive, we have retained almost everyone we have hired. The only cast members who have left the company either moved cities or admitted they had grown so in-demand at other theaters that they could no longer honor our contract. We must be doing something right to keep cast trusting us year over year. So based on my experience, here are some things managers can do to get closer to integrity-filled leadership.

Communicate

The good, the bad, the ugly. Talk to your staff. Let them know, let them in. Ask for opinions when you can, take polls, do what you can to avoid making the company feel like a dictatorship. And when you can’t involve them in decision-making, let them know what’s being decided and why in advance of the decision.

In the arts, your employees see their work not as “just a paycheck,” but as a calling. It matters to them. They believe it is work worth doing. Their blood is invested in a way an accountant’s never could be. Reward that level of buy-in by letting them in. They deserve to be informed about more than next week’s schedule.

Communication also includes communicating clear expectations to your staff. You cannot hold someone accountable if you never told them what you were expecting of them. Contracts and employee manuals and initial day-one meetings are essential. Make sure everyone is on the same page.

An example: we expect staff to report maintenance issues they encounter in the discord (with emergencies warranting a phone call instead); however, they aren’t authorized to fix the thing that just broke unless they get the green light from us. Prop swaps with backups, though, are always authorized.

At Strange Bird, we like over-communication. Here’s a look inside our discord channels…

We train staff about what to post where. “Definitely not a speakeasy” is for social announcements and memes, MFB-maintenance is for reporting any issues with The Man From Beyond, and character channels are for posting shift swaps and character-specific insights for everyone playing that character.

This system makes it easy for a company of 23 to stay together. And I love how Discord is low-stakes. Cast can communicate without stressing about bothering the bosses, and managers can communicate quickly and easily in turn, whether it’s the latest five star review on Google or a change to our audience age policy.

understand

I’ve had more than one cast member say to me, “You treat us like humans. That’s really special.”

That shouldn’t be special.

Treat your staff with the dignity that is their due as humans. Sometimes they get into a car accident, or an upcoming conflict slips their mind, they’re sick or having a bad mental health day, or a big casting offer has landed in their lap and they need their shift covered for the next two months because it’s one of those bastard theaters that don’t allow rehearsal conflicts.

Understand. They’re human.

When conflicts becomes chronic, yes, that warrants a meeting, but if they show good will towards the company, you can afford to return that good will. Your staff are not robots to program and control. They are humans who have chosen to give you their time, talent, and labor. Don’t ever lose sight of that.

Share success, own defeat

When the company succeeds, you have everyone to thank. When the company fails, missteps, or there’s a conflict, it’s your fault.

It’s such a simple hack, but ego gets in the way. The best leaders have a confident enough ego that they give credit where credit is due, and say a clear “I’m sorry, this is on me,” perhaps even when it’s not due. (Look, you’re the manager. It’s always your due in some way.)

One of our favorite discord channels is “Reviews and stories”—cast post funny team quotes or player responses that moved them. I also post reviews we receive in that channel. I’ll look up which actors hosted the reviewer and personally tag the actors with the full review quote to ensure they see this guest’s special appreciation for their work. It’s the show’s triumph, but it’s also very much that particular cast’s triumph.

We would be nowhere without the talent and dedication of our cast, and I see no reason why they shouldn’t know I know it at least once a month.

And when something goes wrong? I’m eager to claim it. I make mistakes. I’m human, too! Even if the actor could have made a different choice to avoid the conflict, I see no reason to assign the blame anywhere but me. There’s always something in the scenario I, as manager, could have gotten better (hint: it’s almost always clearer communication). I name where I failed and offer an apology. This technique allows us to move forward with good will.

Imagine if Emursive said where they went wrong and offered an apology. Maybe they wouldn’t be ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DONE in the industry.

I mean, they probably still would be. But people wouldn’t hate them half as much.

Pay your people on time

My last tip is arguably most important. Even if you have a staff who feels their work is a higher calling, you have ultimately promised them a paycheck.

You have to pay them on time, or mutiny is not far behind.

Every pay period. Not a day late. No excuses.

If you can’t make payroll, borrow. Make it happen. If you can’t borrow, inform—and be ready to lose your staff. These are people’s indelible lives you’re working with. They don’t have infinite time here. They deserve to know if they are working for an insolvent company.

Money isn’t something we, as artist-managers, can afford to neglect. I know, I know, artists are supposed to be starving, morally superior to the system, immune to the profit motive. BULL SHIT. Save the critique of the capitalist grind for the artwork, but not for your business. A quote that’s always stuck with me…

“If you care about your art, you have to care about the business of your art.” —Paul McGuinness, manager of U2, to Bono

If you care about the work, think it’s something worthy, could change the world, or just think it’ll entertain people when we desperately need joy right now, then you have to have a solid business model. Plan a comfortable on-ramp of operating expenses (I’d say at least a year). Be sure to control build costs, spending where it’ll make a meaningful impact, and reducing costs on the trivial things. Invest in marketing so it succeeds. And pay your people.

Otherwise, you end up with Life and No Trust.

That’s the great tragedy of Life and Trust‘s closing. I never got a chance to grow close to the piece, but I believe there was some really beautiful art in it, with devoted artists behind the helm. And it lives no more, most likely because the business people in some substantial way got it catastrophically wrong.*

*Speculation. But I think I’ve earned one piece of speculation.

Good art deserves good business models and good managers. Make sure your art has both.