The Alchemystorium

It's the first night of Gomito Productions' new show – and they're running nearly half an hour late. There's palpable dissatisfaction in the snaking queue, as people wonder whether they'll make it to their next show on time. But when we finally make our way into the cosy Bedlam auditorium, all is forgiven as The Alchemystorium quickly reveals the joyful narrative at the centre of its enormous heart.

The lights dim and a large box slowly unfolds to expose an intricate, detailed revolving set, bedecked with little puppets, mini Polaroid snapshots and kitchen paraphernalia. This is The Alchemystorium Cafe: seemingly a quirky purveyor of hot beverages but with an added matchmaking service. Without uttering a single word, the three talented performers use every ounce of physicality in their bodies to create an utterly mesmerising production that's artfully staged but also retains something of the anarchic spontaneity that accomplished physical theatre shows confidently possess.

It's unashamedly silly and romantic, and the delightful story regularly invokes belly laughs and loud guffaws from the audience for almost every minute of its 60. Nevertheless, its silent, over-emphasised acting style may serve to alienate some Fringe-goers in search of a more conventional set-up. The slightly shaky beginning—in which the parameters of the relationship between the three characters aren't too well defined—also detracts a little from what's otherwise a beautifully staged piece. But these shortcomings are amply compensated for by an exquisite soundtrack, adorable performances and the charmingly unabashed reverence for romance that suffuses this blissful hour.