IGNITION Theatre’s new production of HG Wells’ The Invisible Man is definitely one to watch out for - despite being about, well, someone you can’t actually see.

A welcome addition to the ever-increasing canon of adaptations of gothic novels, The Invisible Man proves that audiences never tire of the classics - especially when the reworking extracts every single bit of fun possible from a familiar story.

With more than a passing nod to the Steampunk movement writer Derek Webb has produced a slick, hugely comic take on one of the original sci-fi stories.

There aren’t many people who haven’t dreamed of being invisible for a while - but when reverting to solidity is out of reach it must lose some of its attraction. - although Griffin - the anti-hero does have an inordinate amount of fun with it in the process.

And so does the small - but perfectly formed - cast. The three-hander sees James Scannell; Andrew Lennon and Stefan Pejic take on no less than 15 larger-than-life characters.

True the audience has to pay close attention - especially when the northern, southern and standard English Police officers switch places at lightning speed but much of the humour develops when the cast brings those watching in on the joke.

Our three cross-dressing heroes flit from character to character with ease - even more impressive when you consider that one of them is supposed be totally unseen by the audience - and possibly just as well since the plot demands he has to be naked to remain invisible.

Wells’ War of the Worlds is famous for being mistaken for the real thing when it was broadcast on American radio - and while there’s little chance of The Invisible Man being treated as a documentary by modern audiences at times its themes will resonate.

Griffin’s denunciation of bankers as the scourge of the working classes is still familiar -more than a century after it was written - but Webb manages to blend that seamlessly with some serious silliness on the stage, producing a real treat - even if it can’t always be seen by the naked eye.

By Fiona Phillips