Northern Stage Ensemble's Pinocchio is a piece of rough magic in which director Alan Lyddiard's company prove just as adept as the old wood carver Geppetto at knocking-up a marvel from a couple of spare planks. Designer Neil Murray's telegraph pole-strewn plain looks more like a railway siding in Arizona than the standard enchanted forest, but a huge, liquid moon bathes it in a beauty that reminds us that miracles can happen anywhere.
The odd corker of a line from local hero Lee Hall helps immensely. Hall's Geordie adaptation never strays far from the spirit of Carlo Collodi's original, but you could say that Collodi anticipated the spirit of Lee Hall. Pinocchio is a rumbustious rites-of-passage story told through broad comedy and lavish sentiment - so it makes sense when the impresario of the Magic Puppet Theatre announces an evening performance of Billy Elliot, and the ensemble bursts into a raggle-taggle version of We Love to Boogie.
Pinocchio presents a classic analysis of the social problems associated with poverty, single-parenthood and habitual absenteeism. The wayward puppet falls in with a bad lot, gets legless, has some new ones carved, then uses them to wander off again and resume his life of indolence.
The episodic structure neatly breaks down into a succession of commedia dell'arte scenarios: "Pinocchio doesn't go to school", "Pinocchio loses all his money", "Pinocchio dabbles in class A drugs" - actually, I made the last one up, but the pattern does suggest an intriguing model for the rehabilitation of young offenders, who should all perhaps be made to undertake a period of reflection in the belly of a whale.
The performances are delightful - bold enough to thrill the little people, subtle enough to charm the ones who paid for their tickets. As with this year's exceptional staging of 1984, Northern Stage's homogenous ethic of generating ideas within a resident ensemble works handsomely, whether frightening the adults or entertaining the kids. The result is a Pinocchio that can be recommended to anyone, with no strings attached.
· Until January 26. Box office: 0191-230 5151.
