The magic of The Experience is that it turns your normal Tuesday into a victory against interplanetary fascism. You start your day thinking about emails, and by noon, you’ve stood next to a hologram of a journalist and watched a Martian die from a common cold.
Jeff Wayne's The War of the Worlds - The Immersive Experience (with
It’s the ultimate reminder: don’t sweat the small stuff. Your boss is mean? That’s cute. Try dealing with a Martian war machine that wants to drink your blood through a needle. Suddenly that burnt coffee at Starbucks feels like a minor win.
The After-Effect
You leave the venue humming the bassline for three days straight. It gets stuck in your head like that one pop song from 2005, but with more dramatic organ chords and fewer lyrics about body parts.
You’ll look at the moon differently, too. I found myself staring at it one night and muttering, “Million to one, but still…” My partner asked if I was okay. I just shrugged and said, “I’m just waiting for the heat-ray, Karen.”
If you haven’t gone, do it. Bring a friend who also owns the double-disc album in its original CD case. It’s like a therapy session where a giant tripod is the therapist. And you leave feeling lighter, more paranoid, and deeply British.
