Theatre often trumpets its liveness as one of its major virtues, but most shows feel so nailed down and slick that there seldom seems any risk involved at all. That's certainly not the case with this fragile and beautiful work in progress. It is being presented, free, every night at Forest Fringe by Paper Cinema with a live musical accompaniment; like a great deal of the most interesting theatre work at the moment, it is messy and frayed and unafraid to walk that fine line between being a bit rubbish and totally brilliant.
Paper Cinema create intricate, hand-drawn, black-and-white cut-out figures and scenes, which are then projected on to a screen. It's so lo-fi it's practically Victorian, and it has the make-do dash of a nursery entertainment for grownups. Which is all part of the charm.
There are two shows being told here: a version of Edgar Allan Poe's plague story, King Pest, and an original tale about a brother's attempt to rescue his abducted sister from a speeding train. There's a heart-stopping, perspective-surprising moment when the brother appears to pedal on his bicycle across the sky in pursuit of the Express. The pleasure here is not just that the animations are both sinister and enchanting, or that the wonderful music gives the whole thing the feel of a quirky silent movie, but also that you can see how the show is being made right before your eyes. The mechanics are fully revealed, and being able to observe the process in no way diminishes what you see but rather enhances it.
