Dr Longitude's Marvellous Imaginary Menagerie

Think steampunk mixed with Adam Ant and you have an idea of the aesthetic of this diabolically delightful musical romp. It's visually dizzying. Not because of high-tech effects but because of the attention to detail and sheer inventiveness with which the company uses the space. Imaginative use of simple props to create trompe l'œil—a synchronised swimming display performed behind a blue sheet, for instance—can be more entrancing than lots of fancy technology.

Dr Longitude is a collector of weird and wonderful animals. Of course, being Victorian this means most of the animals he collects, he shoots—dead elephants are cheaper to feed. But a few, like the bumble wasp—a huge buzzing insect with a passion for jam—he traps live in order to add it to his menagerie. In the course of capture, 19 identically named natives are stung to death – but no matter, he traps the blighter who's been disturbing his afternoon tea in the end.

It is one of those rare children's plays which makes very few concessions to its audience. By this I don't just mean that there's some submerged naughty humour to keep the adults happy (there is, there's plenty) but that it's Dahlesque in its amorality.

A beautifully-realised, pacey production performed with great panache. It has all the dark allure of the circus and of baroque Victoriana but is too heartless to penetrate deeply, and too frightening for the very youngest children.