Produced by Shunt in an old tobacco warehouse a few minutes walk from the company's London Bridge home, Money owes a debt to Emile Zola's novel L'Argent, which was inspired by the collapse of the 19th-century French bank Union Générale. In Zola's novel, a bubble of confidence is created in a company whose success is merely a conjuring trick. But greedy people flock to invest in this apparent money-making machine, until the machine eventually crashes.
The trick of Shunt's show is to take us inside the money machine itself, an extraordinary three-storey Victorian contraption, guarded by security guards with balloons, that heaves and puffs like a steam engine going nowhere. Inside, the illusions come thick and fast as Shunt guide us around the building, leave us in the dark and open our eyes to mysterious figures gliding above us as if in thin air. We see a man looking for investment in a Dragons' Den-style setup and we see a company taking off, its share price a dizzying collage of rising numbers. There are singalongs, champagne, games and surprises.
Like the investors, you lose any sense of perspective. But the intellectual return on your investment is meagre. This show is visually amazing, but it feels like one special effect after another. Where's the dramaturgy? Without it, this is just a thrill that proves Money isn't everything, and in this case isn't nearly enough.
