From the title to the timing, McQueen at the St James’ Theatre has all the hallmarks of a cheesy opportunistic bio-drama. But despite the tormented genius stereotype it conforms to, James Philip’s play is a brave, moving, and enchanting portrayal of a person’s struggle with mental health.

“It transcends the narrow confines of the haute couture celebrity world.”

The play coincides with the fifth anniversary of his death, marked also by the V&A’s lavish retrospective Savage Beauty, and the Working Process photography exhibition at the Tate Britain earlier this year. Yet the production is much more than a mere homage to one of the most iconic designers; the story it tells is neither the shocking drugs-and-depression tabloid version nor the glamorous Vogue version, though both are referenced in a stylised, indirect manner throughout. It is primarily the story of a person, and his relationship to reality. It transcends the narrow confines of the haute couture celebrity world, portraying an experience which deeply resonates with the everyday struggles of human emotion.

The story is set in a single fantasy night, a Tim Burtonesque fairy-tale nightmare reminiscent of McQueen’s fashion shows. An obsessed groupie breaks into his house to steal a dress and, when caught, she and the designer start talking. She takes on the role of his inner voice as the two travel through his memories and relive key moments from his life. The dynamic between the two is completely absorbing – it’s never clear whether she is real or imaginary, which creates the disorientating feeling of being inside someone’s thoughts. Alexander McQueen is played by Stephen Wright who, beyond his uncanny similarity to the real designer, brings an exciting, almost scary energy to the role. Dahlia, the groupie-cum-alter ego, is played Dianna Agron, known principally from her role as Quinn Fabray in Glee. She gives an unsettling performance, easily changing between devoted fan, fairy tale waif, and suicidal psychopath. There’s something desperate about her character, a deranged neediness of incredible emotional power. It’s not all depressing – moments of laughter and comedy make this play an emotional whirlwind, based on real emotion rather than cheap tear-jerking tricks. It avoids being morbid or mawkish and, perhaps paradoxically, there’s something very real and vital about McQueen.

“Christopher Manney has created disconcerting choreographies.”

The dream-like quality of the two main characters is enhanced with some very original staging decisions. Christopher Manney has created disconcerting choreographies, with a top notch dancing troupe who have an unusually high level of technical skill for a theatrical production. They animate each scene as mannequins, creeping out from the wings and whirling around Alexander and Dalhia, unearthly representations of their inner turmoil. The sets are full of references to the designer’s work, with Timothy Bird’s clever video design combining with the costume design to recreate the essence of McQueen’s creations.

Avoiding the pedantry of documentary and the maudlin of tragic biopics, McQueen is a rare thing: a moving play with impeccable production standards, where everything from the script to the costume details is perfect. It encapsulates the essence of a creative genius, while transposing his struggles into everyone else’s. In doing so it achieves the theatrical golden standard of enchantment and catharsis, giving the audience a few hours of enthralled, ethereal escape.

McQueen is on at the St James Theatre until 27th June. Tickets from £25. Available online.