
'I went to Elvis Evolution to see if it's as bad as everyone's been saying'
"It makes me feel sick." Not the most glowing of reviews from Ann, a pensioner who opted to leave the Elvis Evolution experience as soon as the mind-bending, sound-warping, completely Elvis-free first half had finished.
Since opening at London Excel last Friday, the show has been torn to shreds by punters like Ann, who had been expecting to see a hologram of the King, only to settle for a selfie with a cardboard cutout. One pensioner was so irate at the steep ticket price he was dragged from the venue after shouting 'b****cks' over the live finale.
A tough opening week then for Layered Reality, a London-based events company that combines "the latest in performance technology with live actors and feature quality sets" to produce "the future of entertainment", or so its website says at least.
When I visited Elvis Evolution on the grey Wednesday afternoon after its opening, I was taken on a "unique immersive" ride into the world of Elvis.
It was just more the parts when he was stuck in a Las Vegas penthouse suite, blasting his mind apart with a diet of nightly shows, hamburgers and Quaaludes, than the bit when he was hot and good at performing.
It begins in a 50s-style diner-come-holding pen, where guests are invited to arrive early to enjoy a £10 King and Tonic or a Paramount Pretzel.
"They've run out of ice cream, so the Pepsi Floats are off," Cambridge man Carl told me. He'd had to schlep over the Thames on the IFS Cloud Cable Car from Greenwich after discovering the official car park was closed.
Having had a good moan about the prices as we queued for the first of about ten times that afternoon, we shuffled into the first scene - a recreation of Elvis's dressing room - and then around it for about 20 minutes. A generous timeslot, given the room was about as faithful a creation of the 50s as the (admittedly incredible) OK Diner on the A1.
And then the lights dim and the conceit begins. A washed-up Elvis is refusing to leave his dressing room and hit the stage for his iconic 1968 NBC Comeback Special. A distressed show manager tells us not to worry, the King will be out soon, and that security guards are on site both for our and the staff's safety. A little on the nose, given the pensioner dragging that took place just days ago.
Shockingly, the stage manager is wrong. Elvis doesn't actually appear for the entire duration of the show, aside from in short projected clips of old performances, briefly recreated as an uncanny AI figurine and, at one weird point, as a comic book superhero.
After tempting punters with a hologram Presley just like ABBA Voyage down the road, Layered Reality made the 'creative decision not to mimic Elvis's performances' with the tech. Or hire one of the tens of thousands of impersonators who would've probably done a great job. Elvis has not just left the building, he was never in it.
Instead, we get a supporting cast of four actors who whisk us out of the NBC studio to Elvis' childhood and then on a whirlwind tour back to the moment the King reclaimed his crown.
"I couldn't hear a bloody thing," one man told me before following after Ann at halftime and making for the DLR. The sound is admittedly warped and poorly mixed, with the head mics dropping in and out, making the story very hard to follow. "What the hell is going on!?" Catherine, Carl's wife, asked me as she slurps on a Blue Suede cocktail.
As someone who has served as an elf in the early years of Lapland UK, I know how difficult it is to keep grinning while guiding ripped-off feeling families to the right Father Christmas' cabin. Or in this case, performing for a visibly bored crowd of pensioners, some of whom have spent up to £300 on VIP passes that get you three "free" drinks and a seat in the finale performance.
The actors gave it their all and were the best thing about the show. But they were fighting a losing battle. The script is bad, the effects are weird, and the sound is not quite ear-splitting enough to mask their Mississippi via London accents.
We are likely to get more and more of this kind of thing as the film industry continues its contraction and immersive events take over. According to Gensler Research Institute's 2025 Immersive Entertainment & Culture Industry Report, the global market for immersive entertainment was valued at £98bn - and it's projected to reach £351bn by 2030.
Elvis Evolution has been likened to the catastrophic Wonka and Bridgerton experiences, but that's a little unfair. Layered Reality has certainly thrown some cash, time and expertise at the event, it's just not enough.
The show comes to a climax in a small auditorium where groups of elderly people (who clearly have trouble keeping on their feet but only paid £75 for the cheapest tickets) are ushered into the standing pen, while the VIPs enjoy cinema seats at the back.
As has been widely reported elsewhere, Elvis does not appear here as expected. He is beamed onto a flat screen behind a live band, who are pretending to play. It's a limp way to finish things off, yet it gets people dancing, clapping and smiling for the first time.
It always seemed to me that Elvis was great in spite of his corny origin story, the cringeworthy PR ops he was pressured into and his vast back catalog of sickly sweet love songs. He was great because of his incredible musical talent, which stayed with him until the very end, when he was still able to summon choirs of angels from his broken, slug-like body.
Layered Reality probably should've realised this, cut out most of the bells and whistles, and actually hired an Elvis to sing a few of his tunes.
A spokesperson for the company said: 'Elvis Evolution has been praised by Elvis fans and newcomers alike — but it's not a traditional concert or hologram show. From the outset of development, we made a deliberate decision to explore the most powerful and authentic ways to tell Elvis' story.
"This major scale production brings together a cast of 28 performers and over 300 skilled professionals across design, production, and visual effects.
"Elvis Evolution is a multisensory experience, where technology plays a powerful supporting role — but the show doesn't attempt to recreate Elvis' performances. Instead, it joyfully celebrates the ones he gave us. We're incredibly proud of what's been created, and of how it's reconnecting people with Elvis in new and meaningful ways.'
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles


Times
10 hours ago
- Times
My night at Elvis Evolution — queues, laughter, but no burning love
The first sign that things might not be going well at the Elvis Evolution is literally a sign. It's a warning, right behind the ticket counter, that 'abuse will not be tolerated'. Over the next two-and-a-half very long hours, there are many more. The Elvis-based immersive theatre experience attracted significant attention when it was announced a year and a half ago. Andrew McGuinness, its creator and a former PR executive at Freuds, promised an experience that would be 'something like Abba Voyage'. What audiences, who have paid £75 to £300 for a ticket, discovered is something more like a YouTube video. • Fans demand refunds over cardboard cutouts at Elvis 'hologram' show On arrival at London's Excel Centre, the first thing you see is the traditional billboard of newspaper quotes. The Times described Elvis Evolution as 'the talk of the city', which is certainly true. Over the weekend, an angry pensioner had to be removed for shouting abuse during the finale and the performance was suspended. On closer inspection, the apparent verdict from The Times in fact comes from the business pages of The Sunday Times, almost eighteen months ago. Back then, Elvis Evolution was 'the talk of the city', which is to say, the City of London, when it was revealed that Layered Reality's investors were a veritable who's who of the business world, all the way up to and including the now equally notorious Labour donor Lord Alli. In London's Docklands, there's a 100-metre superyacht parked directly outside Elvis Evolution's front door. It's very hard not to imagine them all on board, trying not to die of laughter. The entrance area is an apparent recreation of Bob Burbank's all-American diner, where NBC television executives rushed to find a studio audience for Elvis Presley's famous comeback show in 1968, on which the event is centred. It does look like an identikit 1960s all-American diner, very much like the one you can find on almost any British high street. In fairness, Bob's has really gone the extra mile. I tried to order a cappuccino but, it being 1968, they only do two types of coffee, black or white. If 'The King' couldn't order a flat white — then neither can you. • What's the secret behind the success of Abba Voyage? The crowd is 90 per cent retirees, which is not entirely unexpected at an Elvis Presley-themed attraction at 2pm on a Thursday afternoon. Quite a lot of them are wearing VIP lanyards, which confirm they've parted with at least £180 for a premium package and are doing their best to pretend to be thrilled about it. But by this point, they've read the reviews. Quite a bit of cash has clearly been spent on two railroad car simulators that take visitors from Elvis's birthplace of Tupelo, Mississippi, all the way to Memphis, Tennessee. Eventually the central partition drops and the carriages merge to form a theatre with a stage and giant screens. It's a nice idea, but one significant disadvantage is that the stage now has a column in front of it. There is not a single seat in the house that could not be described as 'severely restricted view'. Not even the £300 ones. • From Abba to Elvis — are holograms really the future of pop? Naturally, there's a lengthy interval in the Blue Hawaii bar, where VIP guests drink giant sickly blue cocktails as a slight return on their jaw-dropping outlay. It's hard to wonder whether these might not be contributing to the three further warnings about not abusing the performers. It's also here that we get the chance to pose with the now notorious cardboard cutout of 'The King' in his underwear. I duly oblige. The outrage only really comes at the finale. We're led into the TV studio and, after a fresh verbal warning about abuse and a firm instruction to please actually applaud when the 'applause' signs light up, the finale begins — which is to say, someone presses play on a video of Elvis's 1968 comeback show, which absolutely all the attendees have seen, many, many times before. Also, unless you've paid for the VIP treatment, you'll be ushered into the standing-room only section. A meagre £75 does not secure a seat. There are, in fairness, three live performers in burgundy jumpsuits, dressed up like the backing band from the famous 1968 show. It's clear they've had a very long week. They look like Johnny Cash and The Tennessee Three waiting to perform at Folsom Prison and wondering if they'll make it out alive. The finale can be most generously described as underwhelming. By the time of my visit, several days of widespread national disdain have done their job. Expectations have been managed. Rather than riots, there is mere incredulous laughter. When the performers walk off again to make way for a ten-minute documentary explaining just how much of a big deal Elvis really was, the crowd are merely shaking their heads in disdain. By this point, Elvis Illusion ticket holders already know that they're caught in a trap and, despite the extremely pedestrian nature of the show, we can't actually walk out. When we're finally allowed out, the man in front of me dares to ask his wife what she thought. There's a long pause, and then: 'It wasn't as bad as everyone says.' That sort of praise could easily end up on the billboard. Elvis Evolution is certainly a hunk of something, but it's not burning love.


Times
10 hours ago
- Times
Inside the Elvis Evolution chaos: ‘bad pay, booing and low morale'
When performers were cast in Elvis Evolution, an ambitious new theatre show billed as an 'authentic' AI tribute to the king of rock'n'roll, many believed it would be a career-defining opportunity. Elvis Evolution, produced by Layered Reality, is an immersive theatre show blending live performance, storytelling and AI. Set across multiple themed spaces, the experience promised audiences a 'life-sized digital Elvis performing iconic moments in musical history on a UK stage for the first time'. Tickets to the show at the Excel London cost £75 for a standard ticket and £300 for a 'super VIP' option, which includes a mid-show champagne experience, commemorative glass, dedicated seating, a drink at each of the three bars and cloakroom access. • Fans demand refunds over cardboard cutouts at Elvis 'hologram' show Within a week of its opening, on July 18 — and after audience complaints and intense public scrutiny — cast members said the reality behind the scenes had been far from the dazzling production promised. Instead of the holographic Elvis that had been expected, AI had been used only to compile video footage. The holographic imagery promoted in early publicity never materialised. One performer claimed the working environment had left them feeling 'demoralised', 'exploited' and desperate to escape a 'sinking ship'. In a letter sent to producers and seen by The Times, 23 cast members raised several concerns about the production. The letter, signed by 'the cast of Elvis Evolution', raises concerns about pay and chaotic rehearsals. One cast member claims that the show's central draw — an AI-powered hologram of Elvis Presley — was misrepresented. 'We had seen comments on Facebook about the Elvis fans wanting a hologram. And we knew that there were no holograms at all being used,' an actor on the show, who wished to remain anonymous, told The Times. 'Once we saw the AI, we were actually really disappointed. We were sold the same delivery as the audience members. We were told it was going to be this progressive AI, imaginative, creative piece.' Despite tickets being sold for up to £300, performers claim they were paid as little as £13.50 an hour, with some performers alleging that they were 'often left in hallways doing nothing' during rehearsals periods. • From Abba to Elvis — are holograms really the future of pop? Poor scheduling, they claim, made it impossible to take on other jobs. Performers were asked to keep weekdays free in case they were called in at short notice, sometimes for just a few hours but often with nothing to do. 'One day you wouldn't be called in and then the next day you'd find out you're called in for 11 o'clock, only to then leave at one. And in those two hours, you've done nothing,' the actor continued. As morale dropped, the cast say they attempted to raise concerns formally about the conditions. In their letter to the producers, they highlighted that 'the ad hoc nature of the hours, combined with the current level of compensation, has meant that many cast members have had to seek additional employment; second and third jobs, in order to cover basic living expenses'. The response, the actor said, was underwhelming. 'We could see the wheels were falling off the car very early,' the actor said. 'When we sent the letter, they emailed us back saying we can give you 50p more and make it £14 an hour. All while selling tickets on pre-sale for £300.' According to those involved, multiple departments, including costume, reportedly experienced upheaval, with some people deciding to leave the production. The actor claimed 'panic' had spread across the production, with 'every single department' in disarray. This version of events, however, has been disputed by others on the production. One cast member claimed their experience on Elvis Evolution is 'standard across theatre'. They said: 'When rehearsal hours were lower than expected, this was flagged by the cast and quickly remedied for all of us. We reached an agreement on a minimum rate of monthly pay; for me, they've always been open to listening and quick to deal with queries. 'We have an ongoing dialogue with all Layered Reality departments, and we have two team members who are dedicated to working with us. Due to the nature of the show, the director was with the dev and tech teams to bring the show to life. With such a big cast of people playing different roles, rehearsal call times were staggered, but this is standard in an immersive production of this scale.' Responding to claims of upheaval, one cast member said the production had only lost 'one member of cast from the beginning of the rehearsal process'. This, they added, is 'probably a low turnover rate compared to most immersive productions'. The production had initially suggested that the 'brand new interactive experience' would involve cutting-edge AI and holographic imagery. Plans for the hologram were scrapped, a development fans quickly noticed. The audience, the actor said, quickly picked up on the show's flaws. 'I think it's been really awful for the cast. One of my colleagues came on stage and got booed before he'd even given a line,' they said. 'The audience felt duped because they'd read the reviews. It's really demoralising. it's a sinking ship.' 'I said very early on I don't want anyone I know to come and watch this. We were embarrassed. But at the end of the day, we've signed this contract. With the current acting climate and our profession being so risky, we're just doing our job. Ultimately it's not our fault.' Paige Rannigan, 29, from Essex, spent more than £200 on tickets , expecting a 'life-sized digital Elvis'. 'There were three musicians on the stage in front of the screen, acting as the musicians that were there in real life,' she said. 'But their instruments weren't plugged in and there was fake applause over the top. There were only about three songs on his '68 comeback video, but it was anything you could look up on YouTube or iPlayer.' In the cast's open letter, they call for several key changes: a guaranteed minimum weekly pay, a review of compensation, paid breaks and travel reimbursement, clearer scheduling, itemised payslips, and formalised guidelines in line with Equity standards. A Layered Reality spokesperson said: 'As an immersive theatre company, the welfare and happiness of our cast members is of the utmost importance, and we greatly value our entire team. Since the beginning of rehearsals, our cast have had two full-time employees — our company manager and performance manager — dedicated to protecting the well-being of the actors, who our actors can speak to at any time, to address any concerns. 'Throughout pre-production and live shows, where concerns have been raised, adjustments and improvements have been promptly sought and implemented. We're talking directly with cast members who have expressed concerns.' The spokesperson added: 'As with many complex productions that are two years in development, and creating something new to the market, the concept did develop from our earliest vision announced in January 2024, but all communications since October 2024 reflected an accurate picture of the show as it evolved.'


Daily Mirror
13 hours ago
- Daily Mirror
Jeremy Vine forced to apologise after caller's 'disgusting' on-air remark to Ann Widdecombe
The Jeremy Vine Show was quickly halted on Friday after a caller made a rude and explicit comment to Ann Widdecombe during an intense debate about doctors' strikes Channel 5 viewers were left shocked when a caller made inappropriate remarks towards Ann Widdecombe live on the Jeremy Vine show last Friday. The host, Jeremy Vine, was joined by commentators Ann, aged 77, and James Schneider, a former Labour adviser to Jeremy Corbyn. The panel was discussing the latest doctors' strikes which began on July 25th. They spoke with a caller named Gregg from Tyne and Wear, who shared that he had previously worked as a junior doctor for five years before leaving the profession to earn five times more at another company. Gregg stated: "[Being a doctor] is not about the money for me. It's about the love of the job - it was the hardest decision I had to make. But I have just one thing I need to pose to Ann Widdecombe?" He then asked: "Hi Ann, how are you?" To which she responded: "How're you?" Gregg replied: "I'm good thanks for asking. I'm off to work soon but me and a few of the lads at the plant..." At this point, Jeremy interrupted, saying: "Hang on Greg. You're not going to be rude to Ann. I can just feel the storm coming." Ann retorted: "He can be rude to me," reports the Express. Gregg then made an inappropriate comment, saying: "I was just wondering if she was going to get her t**s out for the lads." Jeremy quickly intervened, halting the show and stating: "You see, I saw it coming. The guy's a clown." Ann agreed, saying: "You did see it coming." "I did see it coming. It's ridiculous. I could tell," Jeremy added. "And apologies for the language there. Let's move on." Viewers were left fuming after the inappropriate comment was aired, with many expressing their outrage on social media. One user vented: "Absolutely pathetic. 12-year-old ringing up. Horrible mysogny as well. #jeremyvine." Another seethed: "Pathetic man, doing that to Ann. These jokes are so old - he must have the IQ of a 10-year-old to think it's still funny #jeremyvine." A third chimed in: "What a twat! I'm no fan of Ann, but speaking to her like that is disgusting! #jeremyvine." Jeremy promptly issued an apology live on the show following the incident.