"What is love?" asks precocious little John. "It's a big puzzle," sighs his mum in this delicious mix of philosophy, puppetry, motherhood and chocolate Swiss roll. Cake certainly takes the biscuit as one of the most original shows of the year, and might yet take a few awards too. It certainly deserves them. This is a clever production that takes you deep into the heartland of motherhood - the kitchen - and discovers weeping, wailing, bleakness, sudden catastrophe and piles of washing-up.
Most shows about motherhood are bright and breezy fairy tales that rely on the comedy of recognition and tell us nothing that we don't already know about the strains and stresses of being a mother. Cake is different because it tells us what we seldom dare to admit in public: that you can love your children and still hate what they have done to you. That so often when you are with your kids you wish that they were somewhere else, or fast asleep.
Here it all is in black and white, or rather glorious aquamarine - a tale of hopes that sank, sibling rivalry that drives a woman to the kitchen knives, and the despair that rises in the throat as mum attempts to give a public baking demonstration in her domestic goddess-style kitchen. Only it quickly descends into domestic chaos as a result of the philosophical questions on the nature of happiness from toddler John (played by a spooky blonde doll) and the antics of the babies (some expertly manipulated wooden spoons).
Sarah Woods's script is light as a sponge but has the density to ensure this show is always more than it seems, and it is expertly performed by Victoria Worsley as Mum and animators Steve Tiplady and Rebekah Wild. Mum may suppose that happiness is eating cake, but in this instance it is watching Cake too.
· Until December 7. Box office: 020-7223 2223.
