The nature of truth and fiction, biography and creative writing, and the hidden agenda - conscious and unconscious - of writers, all come under scrutiny in this thoroughly entertaining production that sees Trestle Theatre Company, one of the pioneers of mask theatre in this country, bouncing back into the theatrical premier division.
The establishment of a new, permanent ensemble of actors bodes very well indeed. Working for the first time with an existing script, the company take Rudolf Besier's old potboiler, written years before the discovery of the correspondence that shed new light on the life of Elizabeth Barrett and her elopement with fellow Victorian poet Robert Browning, and render it fresh, insightful and very modern.
This is a piece of creative vandalism. Masks, integrated signing, books that flap their pages like angels' wings, a talking dog and a great deal of probing psychological detail all play their part in the triumphant success of a two-hour piece that is as endearing as it is eccentric.
The performances have the lightest of touches, with Janet Bamford outstanding as the spirited Elizabeth who nonetheless colludes in her own psychological imprisonment. Addicted to opium after a teenage accident, Elizabeth is portrayed as a bird in a cage. She is imprisoned by ill health, her fear of living life to the full and her tyrannical father. Only love sets her free.
One of the best things about the evening is the portrayal of Mr Barrett as a silent, masked figure, whose absence is almost as ominous as his presence. External reality and the workings of Elizabeth's mind collide in strange hallucinatory interludes, the large Barrett family clan is portrayed with an Alice in Wonderland-style invention, and at the end Elizabeth's escape is hauntingly depicted by an empty room transformed into a whirligig that represents the passing years of happy married life. A first-rate piece of theatre that is both fun and thoughtful.
• At the Pleasance, London N7 (020-7609 1800), tonight; the Swan, Worcester (01905 27322), from tomorrow till Saturday; and the Mechanics, Burnley (01282 664400), on Wednesday.
