Death of A Samurai

Told initially through all three eyes of magical forest-dwelling child Mitsume, Death of A Samurai is a kaleidoscopic re-imagining of Love’s Labour’s Lost through the prism of Japanese popular culture.

The list of characters is typically idiosyncratic, and could be straight from the pages of any manga comic or Capcom video game. This brings inherent difficulties, of course; producing a staid collection of 16th-century royalty is one thing - rendering a tale of evil swordsmen, werewolves and reckless ninja within the confines of a Fringe production is an altogether different proposition.

Thankfully, Death of A Samurai is both beautifully realised and meticulously choreographed. Every slap, slice and tumble is accompanied by a sound effect or cymbal crash, and tucked away within the breathless hyperactivity are some stunning tableaus devised from a modest collection of props. The action begins at a pace so incessant that after the first act, the audience forgets to clap. Subsequently, it seems that there aren’t enough natural pauses to register appreciation of this cast’s wonderful talent. Conspicuous is the comic relief provided by extrovert ninja Jacky after being shot (literally) straight through the heart with cupid’s arrow. His broken English is used as a weapon, as its sheer simplicity conveys the emotion of ten Shakespearean words. Indeed, it is testament to this production’s ability to captivate and engage that entire scenes of dialogue are conducted exclusively in Japanese and no-one bats an eyelid.

An hour of this breathless and utterly endearing escapism should be enough to move even the most hardened Fringe-goer. Sit in the front three rows and find yourself completely immersed in this joyously colourful spectacle.