Le Quatuor look much like any classical string quartet: four solemn-faced, middle-aged men dressed in tails. The illusion holds as they strike up a tune for a couple of bars. Then everything goes wrong: lights explode, leaving the quartet in darkness; candles set a fiddle alight; three seats are mysteriously removed, launching the players into a slapstick game of musical chairs. All the while, they keep up a brilliant medley of melodies.

The French ensemble, appearing in London's International Mime Festival and fresh from a year's run in Paris, are startlingly multi-talented. They can play (the cellist, Laurent Cirade, comes off particularly well), sing close harmony, dance with vigour and co-ordination - and do all three at once. Theirs is a very sophisticated form of old-fashioned clowning.

Le Quatuor don't hold with complicated props: their instruments and four chairs do them fine, thank you. Did you know that if you unscrew a bow and let the horsehair hang loose from the tip you can achieve a very passable fishing rod? Have you contemplated the possibility of four people playing one cello? It can be done, especially if someone has the presence of mind to bow the cello spike. One particularly effective turn saw the portly viola player, Pierre Ganem, transform himself into a chanteuse by whipping off his tails to unfurl a splendid, spangled gown straight from Shirley Bassey's wardrobe.

The act moved at such a pelt that promising routines felt underdeveloped. As you were wondering how a quartet could replicate so exactly Jimi Hendrix's The Star-Spangled Banner, they galloped on to the next thing. An intriguing scene in which the apparently abandoned instruments started to chat (the viola expressed an interest in contemporary music, and was promptly laughed down by the violins - how like life) was frustratingly brief. Still, it was a charming show, and judging by the entranced kids, fun for all the family.