Slick

Slick could be a children's cartoon, with its boy-hero battling a world of greedy adults, if it weren't for its disturbing and very darkly comic sexual overtones.

As it is, it is an utterly unique show fusing puppetry with human hands and faces in an outlandish plot of corruption, manipulation and murder.

It tells the story of Malcolm Biggar, aged nine and three quarters, who gets caught up in a series of incredible events, starting with the discovery of oil in the family's toilet pipes.

Jordan Young as Malcolm has a wonderfully elastic and expressive face, and his performance is made all the more remarkable by the fact that there are in effect two or three actors playing each character. Their synchronisation of hands, feet and face is utterly impressive, while slow motion scenes and exaggerated movement add to the cartoonish feel of the whole production.

The grotesque puppetry design is fantastic, as is the ingenious origami-like set, which folds over and over on itself, never failing to surprise with what it conceals.

Once the initial novelty of the production's staging concept is established, the pressure is on to continue to impress the audience ' something which is more or less achieved - although some scenes seem deliberately placed to do no more than showcase the technical difficulty of staging them.

This is indeed a slick show, however, weaving a delightfully unbelievable tale with the aid of plausible comic performances. Mark Prendergast, as Jerko Dreich, the sexually deviant landlord, is creepily realistic, and Cora Bissett, as ex-assassin and filthy old lady Mrs Dreich, delivers some pretty shocking lines in a way which thankfully keeps them firmly in the realm of comedy.

Slick is captivating, innovative, highly visual and physical, but the real proof of its charm is that this combination somehow makes it possible to forget that wee Malcolm is, in fact, half-man, half-puppet.