Noble's fantasy highs

You have to admire Ross Noble's work ethic. The industrious Geordie only completed his 23-night Edinburgh run of Unrealtime last week and now he's in the capital with an almost all-new longer version. For a dizzying display of improvisation look no further.

The addition of a second half does wonders, liberating this Merlin-haired wizard. Following a wry introductory animation featuring a sardonic slug with a drink problem, he can now spend virtually the entire first section bouncing freeform ideas off his audience.

In lesser hands this tactic could be indulgent or tedious. But the black-clad star can generate entire routines out of casual remarks. He soon chanced upon a couple who worked for the Refugee Council, prompting recurring thoughts on asylum seekers' fashion sense and modes of travel.

This echoes an unlikely political thread weaving throughout Noble's patchwork surrealism. It says much about the current ministerial turmoil that even this resolutely apolitical jester is Blair-bashing. He suggests that British soldiers' boots melted in Iraq because they were made of marshmallow and that New Labour employed the late love walrus Barry White to sex up their dossier.

After the interval the act had a more formal structure, following a brief return to asylum seekers when Noble recalled some graffiti on a lorry which read: "Please overtake quietly, refugees asleep." A preplanned piece about a Baghdad looter on a hovering donkey was a beautifully honed flight of fancy.

Occasionally one can see the mental cogs whirring. Performances rarely pass without mention of Gandalf or monkeys, but Noble does rework his repertoire of images. Last night he speculated that the Refugee Council was based in Mordor and that tyre-obsessed chimps were laying siege to Kwik Fits everywhere.

Cynics might say he is repeating himself, but Noble gets bolder each year.

There is more physicality now than in last autumn's Vaudeville Theatre residency. He is not afraid of looking silly as he grinds his hips in mock ecstasy, gallops around or dances a jaunty jig.

This is a show packed with chuckles rather than belly laughs, but the only real quibble is the pointless decor of alien greenery. Noble's vivid language paints an exotic picture already, without needing triffids in WC2.

During the encore someone asked if supportive audience members were plants.

Noble is enough of a genius not to require plants in the stalls or onstage.

Until 27 September. Box office: 0870 890 1104.

Ross Noble