Gogol's "Gamblers" is a 19th-century version of "The Sting", only this time the audience gets stung too. It's a ruthless one-act play, set in a provincial Russian inn, where Gogol mocks not only our greed but our suspension of disbelief. In Oleg Sheintsis's design the red wheels and black paint of the four carriages that fill the stage pick up the red scaffolding and black canvas of the auditorium, drawing us into a brooding, deliberate atmosphere where nothing can be taken on trust.
Dalia Ibelhauptaite's bold, extravagant production lays on theatricality like treacle. Phil Daniels with top hat and straggly black hair makes an entrance from beneath the hood of a carriage that has been on stage from the start. The card pack, characterised in the text as a woman, wafts through in the silent shape of Anna Candelabra (Fuschia Peters). There is even a magician's trick, with cards shooting out of a top hat. There is no shortage of effects, but is it effective? The hallucinatory quality is in fact counter-productive; you're unlikely to trust a con in a world where nothing is as it seems.
The outstanding reason for seeing "Gamblers" is Mark Rylance's performance as one of the con-men. Among a cast of delightfully Gogolian characters - including the chubby Tony Bluto as the manservant and the craggy Tim Barlow as the old man - Rylance oozes reassurance in soft American vowels. You feel you could scrape layer after layer away from this character and not reach the actor. The sort of con-artist Gogol had in mind.

Submitted by Jane Grey