Concrete Playground

In a land where medieval magicks matter-of-factly smush with select modern technology and Amelia Earhart marks the gap in space-time by voyaging fatefully overhead throughout, a young girl rallies a village to slaughter a beast. They corner it in the forest, tear its young from the womb and feast on its flesh.

Unbeknown to them, one orphaned youngster escapes down the canals to mature into bitter, lonely, vengeful adolescence at the bottom of the sea. It believes it's misunderstood and alone, but there may be someone unexpected out there yet who empathises with its plight. In the village, a curse has turned the waters septic, driven the chickens to eat their own eggs and brought misery to all, and all blame Emmeline, the now-outcast girl who slew the monster and turned the tides towards misfortune.

There's whimsy, and then there's Nick Coyle. The Pig Island player, Some Film Museums I Have Known hologram and Rommy scribe, so breezily wanders into the bizarre to bring out gems of startling poignancy that he must be a native of that otherworld. This is his smallest of shows — it's just him telling you a story for an hour with fun voices and few props — but it's a great tale and a precious hour. Go on a school night and it'll be the best bedtime story you've had.