Mile End

The aesthetic limits of stagecraft are challenged in this slick technical experiment, in which an elaborate set nimbly shifts around the performers to illustrate multiple viewpoints of a given scene. The scenography notably includes a semi-transparent screen onto which various images are projected, with which the actors interact to create spectacular effects of perspective rarely seen in theatre.

Mile End, a London tube station in which a commuter was fatally pushed onto the rail tracks in 2002 here becomes the centre of an occult tragedy where urban paranoia brews with supernatural forces to augur the heinous incident. Silent, tenebrous stage hands clad all in black shift the furniture and double up as the unseen forces that arrange and derange the normal workings of life. They are the invisible minions of darkness that bully one man to insanity and warn another of his impending death through a series of omens.

The plot of Mile End is largely ornamental, serving primarily as a vehicle for the special effects invented by the youthful, London-based team. Meticulous choreography, a mood making soundtrack, and understated acting stew into a sensory feast smelling distinctly of cinema.

There is no criticising a gimmick-driven production when the gimmick is this well developed. Every scene is a new surprise that continually shames the last with technical brilliance. Mile End is a creative, enterprising play beaming with originality. Watch this for its novelty – it doesn't wear off.