The Master and Margarita
Menier Theatre, London

Shirley Dent

Mikhail Bulgakov's book, The Master and Margarita is a conundrum that delights and entertains. The Cherub Company's stage production, adapted by Andrew Visnevski with Barbara Bogoczek and Tony Howard, is a conundrum that confounds and dumbfounds.

It misses the point of an adaptation completely, namely the adaptation's purpose being to give new life to the original. This vita nova may be innovative and unexpected (The Riot Group's Lear adaptation Victory at the Dirt Palace) or cosy and comfortable (Gwynie in the Devon sunshine, poshing it up as Jane Austen's Emma).

Adaptations are notoriously difficult to pull off, especially when the novel has cult status built on its subtlety and sophistication, like Bulgakov's The Master and Margarita. Take the basic premise of Satan, a suave urbanite, running riot in Stalinist Moscow, interjected with searing scenes of the crucifixion, and a wry slicing through of the cynicism and paranoia of a society throttled by Stalinism. Match this with a fantastic descriptive power and sabre-sharp dialogue, and you will see that anyone attempting an adaptation of this classic must keep close company with Bulgakov's language, bursting with intellect and verve and a sad, sharp wit.

So what in the name of Jehovah did Cherub think they were doing turning the lynch-pin character of the book - Satan or Woland - into some terrible pastiche of a Moulin Rouge rapper? The whole thing (if you know the book and love it as many do, turn away now) was spoken in rhyme. I did not enjoy this in a Sunday-evening-Andrew-Davies-at-his-best doing Dickens or Austen way. Nor was I enthralled by seeing a work I loved surprising me again. It was unbelievable but in all the wrong ways.

Just to add, out of a sense of fairness. The Menier Theatre is a really decent new theatre space in London and it was a pity that my first experience of it was spoilt by this tripe.