Mort

Death—with a shining scythe, blue lights for eyes and a disembodied voice—is a likeable character, living as he is through a mid-life crisis: he quits his job (that of “ushering souls into the netherworld”), befriends a prostitute and begins work at a burger bar. Meanwhile, his apprentice Mort messes up the fabrics of time, space, fate, reality and whatnot, by attempting to save an innocent soul from a futile death.

A light-hearted rendering of a light-hearted novel, Mort is no more, no less than what the Magic-Card-loving audience expects. Few venture here who are not fans of Terry Pratchett's humor: witty, dry puns keep the laughs coming and the plot twists and turns in Discworld's typical fashion.

But despite it being entertaining, Mort fails to impress as a piece of theatre. Those who love Pratchett will like this show, but no-one, not even his most faithful followers, will claim it to be a masterpiece of drama. Though the story has been pared down from its original complexity, it's still confusing. Two minutes before curtain call, the plot takes an unexpected U-turn and screeches to a sudden 'and all live happily ever after' halt, whilst an apocalypse seemed imminent a moment before. The acting is also a little shoddy at times, with actors erupting into laughter at their own jokes—testifying inspite of themselves to Pratchett's funniness? Jokes about Death (and his daughter) just never seem to get old.