Watching this sweet vignette, by a young company called Unpacked, is like walking around a crumbling edifice: you're constantly aware that the structure is unsound, but can't help being mesmerised by all the tiny details. Their story - of two doctors in a mental institution in the early 1930s, attempting to cure a woman who mysteriously doesn't speak - doesn't quite add up. But the way it's told is full of ambition, invention and pleasing theatrical variety.
A desk spins around the body of the woman crouched on the floor. We see her shadow, contorting to the unnervingly beautiful sound of Eric Satie's Gnossienne No 1. Her past is re-enacted by two tiny, fragile puppets, the unexpected tools the doctors use to try and make her well. Even little things - the flashing lights denoting a train, the use of two desk drawers to create old-fashioned suitcases - are brilliantly effective.
Sadly, the trio can't sustain this level of ingenuity; the show is padded with far too much random running about with white screens. Nor do they succeed in explaining the woman's background. But a company capable of producing this many magic moments is definitely a company with a future.
· Until August 28. Box office: 0131-556 6550.
