Banished
Banished
Fourteen players.
Three are lying.
€35 + €1 restoration levy · 18+ · Doors 7pm
Fourteen people are pulled from the audience and sat under the lights. Three of them are secretly told to lie. Nobody else is told anything.
For the next two hours the room watches them argue, accuse, defend themselves and vote each other out — one by one — while trying to work out who's telling the truth. Nothing is scripted. The people on stage aren't actors. They're whoever was in the room that night, improvising under pressure with everyone watching.
They know each other. Nobody else does. Every night they quietly remove somebody from the game — then sit through the morning being accused, and talk their way out of it.
Everybody else at the table. Almost all of them have nothing but instinct, a vote, and whatever they can read in somebody's face.
Two of the eleven are quietly holding something back. They don't know about each other, and neither does anyone else. Naming yourself out loud tends to make you the next one banished.
Once a night, checks whether one person at the table is telling the truth.
Once a night, protects one person from being removed. Sometimes themselves.
You'll watch someone lie to a room of 233 people and almost get away with it.
Nobody gets dragged on stage. You decide when you book — and you can still change your mind on the night.
It's a 233-seat room, so you're close enough to catch the hesitation, the over-explaining, the tell. And you're not silent: once a round the whole room votes from their phones, and the tally goes up on the big screen before the players decide. You'll know things the people on stage don't.
No app. No sign-up. A QR code on your seat.
Tick one box when you buy and you go into the volunteer pool. If your name comes out of the bag you take a seat at the table, open a sealed envelope, and find out whether you're one of the three doing the lying.
You keep your seat either way. Most volunteers never get called — and the ones who do talk about it for months.
Entirely optional. Say no on the night and someone else goes up.
You don't need to know the rules before you arrive. The moderator walks the room through it in the first ten minutes.
Fourteen names come out of a bag. Volunteers only.
Sealed envelopes open in silence. Three read the same word.
The curtain drops. Somebody is removed from the game.
Accusations, alibis, and the whole room voting.
The table votes one out. They reveal what they were and walk.
Masks off. Everyone finds out who they'd been sitting beside.