Nearly half a century after the little chomping yellow head was first seen, Manchester’s live version joins pantheon of immersive nostalgic exploits

“There’s no need to look so nervous,” says a beaming man in a radiant yellow suit, inside what is essentially a darkened warehouse.

Perhaps my game face is betraying my bewilderment. I’m only loosely familiar with the concept of Pac-Man, having played it a handful of times. There is something about being relentlessly pursued around an inescapable maze that I’ve always found quite stressful and I am fearing that the real-life experience will be that but on steroids.