From the outset, this theatre production blurs different worlds. It begins with a long sequence of credits projected on to a screen in cinematic fashion at the back of the stage, naming each member of the cast in turn. Initially out of focus, each name is then sharpened into view, and holds the screen for a generous period.
This is Lung Ha's Theatre Company at work, an outfit set up in 1984 to offer adults with learning difficulties the chance to participate in the performing arts. What that long sequence of names reminds us is just how much it means for each of the cast simply to be here, on stage. It also nudges us towards the evening's deeper point: by emphasising the presence of these performers, we are reminded of their more conventional absence in theatre, cinema, and on television.
This is never polemically expressed, however. Instead, through a series of vignettes, we are introduced to a science fiction world, free from the constraints of time and place, where past, present and future exist together "and not necessarily in that order". Three versions of the same character appear on stage simultaneously; the Madonna and Child send out for fish suppers; three cleaning ladies cherish what's most important to them (a photograph, a wedding dress, some racy black gloves) as they dust and polish. There are touching dance sequences to an easy- listening retro soundtrack, and more pointed sketches about consumerism and celebrity, and the reality of life they both overshadow.
It's a show with a creeping power, and a deftly made point about the boundaries and hierarchies by which we live (past and present, but also the barriers that would ordinarily keep this company off the stage). The world we are shown is one in which "many yous and mes exist", and where "inches from you, another you is sitting". The evening ends with a plea: "Why can't we walk towards ourselves?", meaning the many versions of self, the various ways of being. A genuinely uplifting evening's entertainment, but one that leaves you tussling with issues seldom voiced.
· Ends tonight. Box office: 0131-228 1404.
