It begins with a violinist suspended in mid-air and ends with the stage filled with a huge inflatable, which could be a masturbatory fantasy or the dying Dali's ego. In between, this brilliantly inventive Australian company romp around in their underwear and offer a lobster-size tour around the life and mind of one of the great artists - or maybe con artists - of the 20th century. A man who was very definitely too shellfish.
This kind of bio-theatre is often tedious and full of its own self-importance. Not here. It is not so much what is said as how it's said that counts in a show in which picture frames become swings, gender shifts magically and past and present mingle in the tortured pictures in Dali's mind. There is only one word for it: surreal. Well, maybe two: sordidly surreal.
The cast work their underwear off - particularly Julia Eckersley, who morphs from the infantile breast-sucking teenage Dali into both his sad sister and his future wife Gala, a woman who knew how to get her pound of fish. In some ways this is all style and no substance, but it is such flamboyant and outrageous style that you find yourself enjoying yourself as time melts away.
Until August 26. Box office: 0131-226 2428.
