The Dark Philosophers

This rich, handsome and darkly comic staging of Gwyn Thomas's The Dark Philosophers has given its Welsh author the ultimate gift: not one, but several lives beyond his 1981 death.

Not only has it skilfully woven together several of his Depression-era stories from Rhondda Valley but, in one of its many masterstrokes, places the deceased Thomas in the centre of things.

We see him in half-mask, flitting about the stage, a one-man Greek chorus; a dark deity creating like an artist. He sets the scene in the cramped slums beautifully. “We in the Terraces tended to live operatically, in shouts.” We see him write the scenes as they play out. When the action reaches a crux, he whispers the next lines into the characters' ears.

It is an impish piece of metafiction that works wonderfully. In fact, this whole production by Told By An Idiot and National Theatre Wales is a triumph. From its magical stage design to the giddy use of absurd theatrical techniques, everything is in harmony with Thomas' world-view.

In one unexpected and brilliantly handled detour from 1930s South Wales, Thomas finds himself on Michael Parkinson's chat show. Flanked by Dolly Parton and Billy Connolly, the script is verbatim from the real 1970s interview.

As we see his crisp tales of murder, love, pride and coal play out, it gives proceedings a melancholic undertow. Ultimately, Thomas' stories provide a glimpse into a world without heroes or moral certitudes. You can see why absurdity appeals to him. “It's all a joke,” he says. “One great, sad, beautiful joke!”