One audience member said of the show, “What a silly load of nonsense”. It was an apt description considering it was meant in the nicest possible way.

The anticipation was tangible as Pixar veteran, Lee Unkrich, took to the stage to divulge a fascinating insight into the company that changed animation forever in 1995 with Toy Story, the first ever computer-animated feature film.

Even if you are tiring of the seemingly endless circus revival, two hours ringside with La Soiree will make you whoop and holler.

Ultimately these ghosts trap the production in a past beyond the audience and, aside from beautiful eulogies for land and loved ones, nothing much more dramatic than mild inconvenience of obligated hospitality occurs before us.

It was almost impossible not to be impressed by the cast’s ability to be so silly but so tuneful, all at once.

The plot is hardly going to leave you speechless, but director Lee Lewis gets around that with some unexpected and entertaining additions to proceedings.

Maree Freeman’s script is littered with beautifully bleak poetry; a series of childish rhymes - about animals and their characteristics – are drilled in and drawled out, a frayed attempt at keeping or achieving sanity in the dusty prison.

Meadows’ and Strong’s secret apocalypse is beautifully affecting, offering both the adrenaline of a thriller and the quivering tingle of a truly heart-warming, personal story.

It was less a side-splitting laugh-a-thon than just a fun night out, like spending an evening at the pub with your funny mate, except they’re on stage… and they’re less drunk… and they’re actually funny.

You don’t just get a dick on an x-ray; you get a clever dick, too.

Sex With Strangers bubbles along with romcom pace, though by Act II the sex has all but fizzled out, and the strangers know each other too well as bickering about books takes the fore.

Moments of the show descended into cliché and there were some clunky stereotypes in the minor characters, but the feel-good nature of the story kept the laughs coming, especially in the courtroom scenes.

It’s worth checking out if only because so rarely does so much urban art talent come together under one roof.

Coward’s writing has wonderful balance; the parallels between relationships and individuals mirrored in a chaos akin to the muck one’s mind is clearly left in by love.

The show’s a lot of fun, but you can’t help thinking it’s not just the snacks that are nuts.

After 20 odd years in the chorus line of Les Miserables (a gig that commenced the day he was born) Gareth Davies (played, well, very well, by Gareth Davies) has a crisis of identity; his character is nameless, his talent too immense, his creativity stifled.

This show is more subdued. And although it is less provocative than previous outings

The set and costumes for this play, adapted from the diaries and correspondence of Katherine Mansfield, are mainly pure white, with highlights of scarlet – like the flushed cheeks and pallor of a person with tuberculosis.

Yasser Arafat just crashed into Fidel Castro again.

"With jokes and anecdotes ranging from politics to the cult of celebrity, his performance was crafted perfectly to combine intelligent cultural analysis with humour to show how ridiculous human beings can really be."