Using animation, live music, physical theatre, and stand-up comic timing, Golem is less your standard play and more a cabaret spectacle. Despite a slightly weaker plot than hoped, Golem’s message about corporate greed and human idleness is poignantly addressed by its technical achievements. With stunningly beautiful visuals, an incredible soundtrack, and a remarkable attention to detail, theatre company 1927 present a truly unforgettable psychedelic nightmare – Golem is quite simply an artistic masterpiece.

Living in the nameless dystopian parallel of a European metropolis, the Robertson family are shy, geeky, and wildly unpopular. Having been abandoned by their parents, Annie and Robert live with their grandmother. Both are part of the punk band “Annie and the Underdogs”, despite being too shy to actually perform in public. With dull and uninteresting lives, Robert works in an equally dull job: “backing up the back-up” by writing out all the ones and zeros by hand. But Robert does have one friend, a genius inventor who, having invented a whole range of junk, finally comes up with his killer invention: the Golem. An autonomous clay man to serve his master’s every whim.

A critique of man’s desire to have everything they want, the Golem symbolises corporate control over the masses: the effect of capitalism on our actions, opinions, and appearance. The show’s set – born out of animation – forms a continually transforming backdrop, unparalleled in its ability to wonderfully and simply convey the surreal nature of the setting. With the actors seamlessly interacting with the animation, and with the projections never feeling out of place or poorly thought out, the achievements of this show are almost a little hard to believe.

I don’t really want to pick out the work of the individual actors, since the cast is exceptional, but one moment in particular did strike me: Shamira Turner as Robert spends a hefty part of the show walking from location to location; but with nowhere really to go, the effect of rushing through a city is achieved by a rhythmic stationary movement against a panning animated background. My words don’t really do it justice. It was simply extraordinary.

Created by 1927, Golem is written and directed by Suzanna Andrade with film, animation, and design by Paul Barritt. The performances are sharp and entertaining, but there is little depth to the story. That being said, little is needed to convey their point. Reading part of an interview with Barritt in the programme, the sentiment of his work is clear:

“Does this mean your basic narrative is that any decent idea will inevitably be destroyed by capitalism?”

“Yes.”

Whether he’s right or not I don’t know, but it’s always intriguing when an anti-capitalists perform their work in the West End – a corporate powerhouse if ever there was one. Fair enough for Barritt, the show needs to be staged somewhere, but it makes taking a message away that little bit harder.

Golem is on at Trafalgar Studios until 22nd May. Tickets from £10. Available online