Skip Robot Restaurant and Head Straight to TeamLab Instead

The people I spoke to who had traveled to Tokyo said that Robot Restaurant was "unlike anything" they'd ever seen. Blog posts across the world wide web agreed that Robot Restaurant is an over-the-top experience that first-time Tokyo travelers must see.

They were all correct in describing the show as unique. However, it is unwise to equate singularity with value. After experiencing it for myself, I have a dissenting opinion for travelers to consider: Don't go to Robot Restaurant.

Robot Restaurant advised us to arrive at least 30 minutes prior to showtime, which we realized was an excuse for guests to wait in the bar. Foreigners of all ages and nationalities occupied gaudy, gold chairs and sipped cocktails while listening to a quartet clad in gold robot uniforms. The amount of gold reflected thousands of times over by scattered mirrors would have made 1980s Donald Trump proud.

The band in the bar at Robot Restaurant. (Yes, they are real people.)

Guests waiting for the Robot Restaurant show to begin

For an experience just as unique--and just as bright--in Tokyo, visit teamLab near Ginza. Compared to the $75 tickets to Robot Restaurant, teamLab costs only $29.60 per person and can be paid for in advance online. At teamLab, visitors enjoy an interactive world of light and graphic design unlike anything I have seen before. Unlike at Robot Restaurant, teamLab reservations are valid for the whole day, so simply show up at your desired time, scan your ticket, and enjoy the museum.  (That said, the venue is popular and later times mean more crowds inside, so get there early.)

More than just being asked to wait at the bar at Robot Restaurant, the whole experience felt like an overzealous plot to solicit as much money as possible. An American MC introduced the show and explained that there would be three intermissions. (Three for a 90-minute show?!) During the first two breaks, guests could use the restroom or buy more food and beverages. However, the third break was only for food and beverage. At each intermission, employees wheeled carts carrying popcorn, fried chicken, hot dogs, and other fried foods onto the stage for our convenience. (We did not see any Japanese food.) Every bit of the experience was optimized for maximum profit.

Once we entered teamLab, in contrast, the only thing we could think about was the magic of the light displays. Every pocket of the museum is meant to be explored in a direct appeal to curiosity and wonderment. At one point we asked an employee to point us to a specific exhibit, to which he replied, "This is a place for discovery. No directions."

One of the main rooms at teamLab where visitors can wander

Another large room at teamLab where light displays would move and change color

Before the Robot Restaurant show, I had halfheartedly stuffed some tissue in my ears expecting some loud music, but I quickly realized that not even professional safety earmuffs would have dampened the sound. I've only experienced that kind of sustained blare while standing next to a giant speaker at a Bar Mitzvah with a bad DJ. Above the noise, actors outfitted in outlandish costumes rushed the stage and bellowed into low-quality microphones. The sparse dialogue cobbled together a story that positioned humans and robots as adversaries. Like a porn video, the acting was terrible and the "plot" was just an excuse to get to the main event--in this case, a human versus robot battle. Here is a quick snippet:

However, at teamLab, the lights, sounds, and physical landscape were in complete harmony. Though the music was loud at some points, it was never uncomfortable or overpowering. One light display was set to an epic orchestral piece that perfectly synced with the movement of the light beams. My cousin sat on the mirrored floor and looked down at the reflection as I gazed up toward the dancing light fixtures on the ceiling. We were both entranced by the sound symphony:

Still image of the light display set to music

To be sure, the Robot Restaurant costumes, flashy decor, and over-the-top visuals were the main draw. Floats reminiscent of a Mardi Gras or Carnival parade occupied most of the floor space, and the ornate costumes and over-use of colorful lights made for a compelling visual. However, the pretty colors and flashing lights are just a distraction while they are quietly ripping you off. As soon as intermission came and the lights went dim, we could see that the show is nothing but smoke and mirrors. Behind all of those dazzling lights were just poor actors, cheap seats, and a seedy underground venue.

One of the floats at Robot Restaurant

The teamLab experience felt much more nuanced. My cousin, Kasey, and I felt like curious children, exploring more and more hidden pockets of the museum. The quality of the graphic design was enhanced with interactive experiences meant to bring the audience closer to the art. One exhibit included a forest of posts that stood in rows. Each post contained different colored lights that acted as footholds or grips in rock climbing. Attendees could line up across the edge of the forest and rock climb their way to the other side.

The forest of lights at teamLab

Both teamLab and Robot Restaurant offered something unique, and both provided powerful imagery. However, the Robot Restaurant had been over-hyped and did not deliver on our expectations. The blinding strobe lights and deafening music took away from a clever (if ill-executed) concept, which was a shame. Despite how expensive it was, everything felt cheap. In contrast, teamLab delivered on value. The experience felt fresh and innovative, and the low price provided far more than 90 minutes of jaw-dropping entertainment and exploration. My advice to travelers is to skip the Robot Restaurant and bump teamLab up the itinerary instead. It's just as "unique" but delivers a much higher quality experience.