Once...

First seen at the Fringe nearly 20 years ago, this garlanded show from Russian company Derevo is as off-the-wall inventive as they come. But it’s a strange beast that doesn’t always bite as hard as it could; like a comedian whose once edgy material has faded with time.

A doll-like waitress meets a downbeat clown in a rainy cafe. With a clumsy Cupid, devilish rival and grim reaper standing in their way, will true love ever run its course? 

The brainchild of Anton Adasinsky (who also stars), it's a riot of inventive props, outlandish costumes and ingenious moments. A biplane flies in, a painting springs to life, the company chase madly through the audience. There’s no point trying to second guess what’s coming next – you couldn’t possibly. Spare a thought for the stage management team – by the end the playing space is carnage. 

There is much to admire, from the evocative soundscape to the miniaturist set. Cunning mythic references abound alongside the fairy-tale archetypes, while the conclusion provides an unexpected and haunting twist. And the seasoned ensemble combine balletic grace with sharp comedy instincts, performing with more energy than their early timeslot deserves.

But for all its impressive parts the sum of them is unfulfilling. The frantic wackiness of the whole thing grows wearisome. It’s like downing six espressos for breakfast: a sharp and invigorating shock that falls short of complete nourishment.