Recently, I learned a new term: "FOMO."
Actually, this is a long-standing term known in Chinese as "Fear of Missing Out" (FOMO), also referred to as missing-out anxiety. It describes a persistent state of anxiety arising from the worry of missing information, experiences, or opportunities. I've been seeing it frequently lately due to the surging AI fervor.
Honestly, although I've read quite a bit about AI, I haven't succumbed to FOMO like those chasing trends. Maybe I couldn't, maybe I didn't want to, but more likely, it wasn't necessary. What is there to miss? What cannot be let go? To use a cliché, every cloud has a silver lining.
However, during the premiere of the immersive musical show Arcane a few days ago, in this two-hour offline event, I finally understood what Fear of Missing Out means.
Actually, before being invited to watch the premiere, I did some preliminary research: I knew it was a large-scale immersive theater production, that it constructed a simplified framework of the twin cities within a Shanghai hotel, and that its producer, Punchdrunk, is considered the pioneer of "immersive theater." However, I didn't expect the performance to shock me so profoundly that I felt compelled to write a "game review," specifically one with a 3DM flavor.
Yes, this is also the origin of this article's title. As a game editor, I attempted to bring the Arcane Immersive Musical Show into my domain, treating it as a large-scale game occurring in reality.
Of course, my claims are not baseless—let's first briefly outline the origins of this performance, or rather, the concept of "immersive theater."
In the 20th century, American director Richard Schechner proposed the theory of "Environmental Theater," arguing that theater should blur the distinction between actors and audiences as much as possible, since theater's strength over film lies in its interactive communication with the audience. Premiering in 2003, Sleep No More was officially labeled "Immersive Theater" by the British Council, bringing this genre into mainstream culture.
In Sleep No More, each character has an independent narrative trajectory, with plotlines intertwining across different times and spaces. Audiences can freely choose to follow a specific character, occasionally overlapping with other characters' paths. Meanwhile, the onsite scenes are meticulously designed, even serving narrative functions... By now, you should recognize the difference between immersive and traditional theater. The concept of the "fourth wall," proposed by Diderot and formally refined by Jean Jullien, seems shattered by this type of theater. And who wielded the sledgehammer? It was Punchdrunk, the producer of Sleep No More, which is why I referred to them as the "pioneer" earlier.
In a 2019 interview with Felix Barrett, founder of Punchdrunk, The Guardian reported that Sleep No More received critical acclaim in New York and was dubbed "Game of the Year" by a media outlet. Hidden secrets in the play were called "Easter eggs," discovering new floors was "leveling up," and choosing destinations constituted an "open world."
Subsequently, Felix Barrett stated, "When we were called a video game, I began to explore games, delve deeper into them, interpret them, and learn more about game mechanics." Although the format of Sleep No More was not directly inspired by games, the way video games tell stories is indeed similar to what it attempts to achieve in theater. Therefore, he believes that "the crazy space between video games and theater is the next frontier."
Nowadays, we have truly witnessed the combination of Punchdrunk and video games in the form of the Arcane Immersive Musical Show. It can be said that both internally and externally, it fully qualifies as "that crazy space between video games and theater." Therefore, writing a review for this crazy space is both reasonable and challenging.
In a sense, this space is isolated from the real world—before the show began, our phones were locked away in password-protected bags, and each of us wore a raven mask, as if we were scavengers flooding into the underworld to watch a play. Yet, it is precisely because we wore these masks that we were able to "immerse" ourselves in the twin cities, reliving the story of Arcane face-to-face in reality.
Upon entering, I saw a fast-paced plot exposition on the main stage on the first floor, introducing Vander's family and Silco from the Undercity one by one. This close-up viewing experience was quite unique. Subsequently, as the plot progressed, we looked up to see characters from the Upper City make their entrance, reciting iconic lines to inform the audience of their roles in the play.
However, standing still to appreciate is not the core experience of this immersive musical show. You need to move around, following the scattered trails of the characters to see what they are doing.
For example, when I stood confused in the Lower City as the lights dimmed and the audience flowed in different directions, I instinctively followed the nearest crowd. There was a small room where spectators squeezed together—it turned out we were to witness Vi's experiences through iron bars from here.
Amidst this strange sense of voyeurism, several Enforcers suddenly appeared behind us, startling me—but fortunately, their target wasn't me. The Enforcers roughly parted the crowd and headed straight for Vi, initiating the next segment of the plot.
I really appreciate this use of crowds—the audience's voyeurism seems to be part of the drama itself. At this moment, we are merely irrelevant bystanders in the Undercity. We are indifferent, numb, simply watching Everythinggj unfold before our eyes. Of course, out of courtesy, we should not interfere with the performance flow.
When I went against the flow to explore freely, I also discovered familiar plots. For instance, in a garden in the Upper City, I witnessed rookie Caitlyn receiving her Enforcer badge, observing her methodically investigate the explosion case, with every action precise and full of conviction.
I must say, throughout the entire performance, Caitlyn's makeup and costume surprised me the most. Under the dim lighting, her appearance seemed to leap directly out of the Arcane series, exuding remarkable texture. As for why I had time to scrutinize her look? Because she spent a long time investigating in the ruins, allowing us ample opportunity to appreciate every detail.
And I believe such pauses are traceable.
In fact, just around a corner in the nearby corridor, young Powder was surrounded by a group of spectators, seemingly drawing or narrating something. Meanwhile, the female sheriff who had just finished investigating this corridor departed via another route, conveniently missing the corner where Powder was located.
In this show, since the space of the twin cities is cleverly folded, each actor's movement and pause must follow specified paths and execute at designated times. More importantly, in most cases, there is no clear distinction between frontstage and backstage—an actor's exit is not a true departure but a transition to a new performance elsewhere. Therefore, the overall scheduling must be extremely meticulous, and Caitlyn's movement trajectory mentioned earlier may stem from such considerations.
This point was further emphasized by a performance I experienced on the second floor. In a space with fantastical special effects, Jayces faced a mysterious hooded figure. The hooded figure danced up and down, magically producing Viktor from under the table—I recall the poster mentioning a magic consultant, Deng Nanzi, a magician who appeared on the CCTV Spring Festival Gala this year; could this have been his guidance? After this ideological confrontation between Jayce and Viktor concluded, Jayce exited the door and immediately encountered Caitlyn, who had just finished another scene—prompting the audience to embark on a new storyline.
Such precise timing can indeed greatly震撼 the audience. A few years ago, Pocari Sweat released a famous advertisement titled "Pocari Blue Dance: Soul's Cry." The ad was divided into three perspectives, following three dancers along different paths before converging in a hall for a group dance. What was truly novel was that all three perspectives were filmed in a single continuous shot—from solo dances to positioning and final convergence synchronization, all three angles started and ended simultaneously, with perfect timing.
The scheduling complexity of the Arcane Immersive Musical Show may be even greater. With numerous characters, intricate storylines, and the uncontrollable factor of "audience" inherent in immersive theater, plus the integration of many musical elements, precise timing requires meticulous planning. Any slight mishap could significantly diminish the performance's impact.
Therefore, the show also features rich spatial considerations. Overall, while the performance space can be roughly divided into an Upper City and a Lower City by floor, the specific segmentation includes many subtle design elements.
For instance, some passages are hidden doors exclusive to the actors, allowing them to enter the performance space. Additionally, in the central open area of the Lower City, there are two movable modular stages. They can be joined together to serve as a performance venue or used to depict the dynamic relationship between two characters—at one point, I even mentally superimposed a Hitchcock zoom onto this movement.
Meanwhile, another element that left a deep impression on me was a massive suspension beam resembling a drawbridge. It always hangs directly above the main area of the Lower City, and whenever it is lowered, it invariably accompanies a spectacular performance.
Jinx made her entrance descending from it accompanied by "Get Jinxed"; the scene symbolizing the separation between Vi and Jinx was realistically portrayed using this suspension beam; and in the latter half, you can even witness high-difficulty stunts and crucial plot points on it—I won't spoil them. Honestly, this segment is definitely worth experiencing firsthand.
This spatial design, beyond the functionality mentioned above, is sometimes filled with artistic flair.
The most memorable moment for me was a fight scene in the Upper City—at that time, I had just finished watching a performance in the Lower City and had to look up to view this scene. Interestingly, the venue lighting happened to strike the actors from diagonally above, casting light down into the Lower City. This means that if you were watching from the Upper City, you would see every detail of Vi's movements head-on. But if you were in the Lower City like me, you could only see her silhouette outlined by the light while looking up.
I believe this was an intentional design choice, using lighting artistry to create a clearer boundary between the Upper and Lower Cities, as well as influencing the audience's viewing emotions.
As for why I am so familiar with the Lower City experience, it's simply because I was firmly stationed on the first floor.
As a "musical show," its greatest innovation lies in the music. Thanks to the years of development of the League of Legends IP and the numerous hit songs included in the Arcane series, this Arcane Immersive Musical Show had ample resources to work with. And indeed, they made full use of them.
This is why I was firmly stationed on the first floor—the musical performances on the main stage and modular stages downstairs were overwhelming.
My favorite was "Warriors," sung by nearly every Zaunite. Originally performed by Imagine Dragons as the theme song for the League of Legends Season 4 World Championship, it shares a similar vibe with "Enemy," the Arcane theme song also performed by Imagine Dragons.
In the Arcane Immersive Musical Show, this song was adapted into a musical style, becoming the battle anthem of the Undercity. Sometimes it was a solo, other times a chorus—but regardless of the format, Chinese lyrics were used, which effectively conveyed the characters' emotional shifts through the vocals. When Vi sang "Warriors" alone, we heard her sisterly bond with Jinx and her feelings toward the Undercity; when Silco sang it, we heard a chorus, representing the outcry of the Undercity people.
Speaking of which, please forgive me for inserting a slightly dry analysis—but discussing music inevitably involves some music theory for clarity. The original "Warriors" is in 4/4 time, while the adapted version—if I heard correctly—is in 6/8 time. Although 6/8 is technically triple meter, rhythmically it feels more like duple meter, encouraging swaying movements, a characteristic common in many 6/8 barcarolles. This is why the adapted "Warriors" enhanced the live atmosphere, conveying the energy of the Undercity through choral singing.
Furthermore, let's not forget tracks like "Enemy," "Lonely Warrior," and "It's Fine," which originally belong to the Arcane series. I believe any fan of Arcane or League of Legends would find their charm irresistible. It is precisely because of these musical pieces that this immersive theater production can truly be called an immersive musical show.
According to the playlist on the merchandise T-shirts sold outside, the musical show also featured World Championship anthems like "Rise," "Heavy Is The Crown," and "Legends Never Die." These tracks are not only highly acclaimed but also thematically aligned with Arcane. Particularly during the final curtain call, "Legends Never Die" played as character introductions unfolded alongside the music and audience cheers, leaving me emotionally overwhelmed.
Unfortunately, I seem to have missed the first two songs, which is why I didn't mention my favorite, "Rise" (worthy of its championship status), or "Heavy Is The Crown," which likely had the most electrifying atmosphere (though I'm not entirely sure about the specifics). I can only speculate what happened—perhaps at that time, I was watching the scene where Viktor and Jayce parted ways due to ideological differences? This also highlights the spatial advantage mentioned earlier—the room was far enough from the main stage that I genuinely couldn't hear what was happening over there.
But by now, you've probably noticed—the "FOMO" emotion I mentioned at the beginning of the article officially surfaced after I finished watching the entire show.
In the Arcane Immersive Musical Show, Everythinggj is irreversible. I am destined to miss certain things—whether music or plot.
If I followed a character through the entire show, I would certainly see their character arc, fully experiencing Punchdrunk's interpretation of Arcane's characters, and glimpse other characters' appearances through the intersection of main plotlines. However, the cost is that I might miss an entire character's storyline. Even if their role is significant, in my eyes, they would appear merely as passersby with few appearances.
If I don't specifically follow a character and instead wander randomly around the venue, I will ultimately gather a heap of vague information. Admittedly, I can enjoy the thrill of exploration, but the overall plot will leave me confused.
A few years ago, a popular Chinese game called Unheard gained widespread attention. Players needed to listen to character dialogues to gradually uncover the truth behind events. However, during gameplay, multiple people often speak simultaneously from different locations, and you can only monitor one side at a time—to understand the full story, you must follow different perspectives and listen repeatedly.
Even Punchdrunk's own Sleep No More operates similarly—that immersive theater production also features loop settings. Rumor has it that various techniques are used to blur the audience's sense of time, allowing them to gain different experiences within the loops... but regardless, you can at least watch it multiple times.
But here, you cannot watch it multiple times; you must make choices.
This is my greatest takeaway from the Arcane Immersive Musical Show: it is excellent, offering no mediocre experiences, yet I must sacrifice something. Not exploring other side stories isn't due to lack of necessity or desire, but impossibility. Just as I make countless trade-offs while writing this review—deciding what to include and which theme to focus on—regardless of the choice, regrets will remain.
If it were a single-player game, I could reload saves or play through multiple rounds; if it were League of Legends, I could play a few more matches.
But what about in this show that cannot be replayed?
Or perhaps, outside the show itself?
In this immersive musical show, every audience member is their own director and player—they must explore, investigate, and piece together the world through their own eyes, reconstructing what is happening in the venue based on their memories of the Arcane storyline.
Of course, I could buy tickets multiple times to watch the Arcane Immersive Musical Show repeatedly, actively gaining comprehensive understanding from different perspectives. But once I step out of those doors, I face only the unknown. Perhaps the fear of missing out on the unknown is the true source of "FOMO."
And at this moment, what should I do?
Perhaps only "give and take" applies.
I think this is what Punchdrunk and the Arcane Immersive Musical Show truly convey to us.