The Bitches' Ball

Mary Darby Robinson was a real 18th Century actress, courtesan, prostitute, novelist and poet.

Better known as Perdita, after her success in that part in A Winter's Tale, she was also the mistress of the young Prince of Wales, the future King George IV. At the height of her fame she was painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds, a portrait now in the Wallace Collection in London. The portrait provided the germ for Penny Dreadful's riotous romp of a play.

Although it starts with a nightmarish vision of the leprous underside of 18th Century society, it soon turns into a production that's part Blackadder III, part 1066 And All That, part revue, part musical, part Horrible Histories and wholly a great, colourful show so full of energy that you can't help but be swept along by it.

It all looks absolutely gorgeous: time and again you could be watching a no-expense-spared extravaganza. You're reminded that you aren't when an accusation of being late for school is met by a 'Sorry, I had a quick change'. Incidentally the night I was there that accusation of lateness coincided with the arrival of a belated audience member, to whom it became instantly directed.

Mira Dovreni is a perfect Mary, innocent country girl to society darling to disease-ridden whore and finally to Reynold's portrait, perfectly topped off by an exquisitely cheeky gesture. Ian Street is the only male in the company and, as well as looking good in full drag, he proves to be a splendid ninny of a Prinny. Sarah Ratheram, Bernadette Russell and Sophie Russell each play a multitude of roles, male and female, with great and glorious gusto.

There are some very polite sounding songs with very rude words indeed, marvellously well sung by the whole company.

Through all the jokes, the anachronisms and the high jinks a surprisingly vivid impression of the vulnerability of 18th Century female celebrity comes over. But don't worry about that - go along for the roisterous good time you're sure to have.