We wheel the drop tower into a room, break four things in front of you, and put the frames up behind us a minute later at eleven thousand a second. No pre-recorded takes, no safety net, and one night in six where nothing works and we say so.
One tooth on each strip is one minute of show. The black teeth are the interval. A struck strip is a date that has gone.
Our own room, and the only date where you sit inside the working hall rather than a theatre. One hundred and ten seats on scaffold decking, the tower on the hall's original lift rails, and the tank between you and it.
Rows A and B are inside the splash line. You are given goggles at the door and we mean it — the tank throws about four litres over the rail on the water piece, and the people who sit there are the ones who come back.
Dry, warm, and the best view of the screen. Where the people who have been twice before sit.
Rows A and B, inside the splash line, goggles issued at the door and collected at the end. Four litres of water, some of it yours.
Rows C to H, a printed frame from that night's fastest take on the way out, and twenty minutes with the rig after the show if you want to look at the tower.
Schools and technical colleges pay 28 zł a head on weekday matinées, minimum twelve. Write to the hall and say which year group.
“They broke a windscreen at eleven thousand frames and four hundred people made a noise I have only otherwise heard at a goal. Then they admitted the second take had failed and showed us why. That is the bit I keep thinking about.”
Marta DziedzicProgrammer, Hala Odra · 6 March 2026
We tour with 1.4 tonnes, need a 400 A supply or space for the trailer, a get-in of six hours and a floor that will take the tower. Festivals, science weeks and technical colleges all work; a function room with a carpet does not.