When you are given, on walking into the theatre, instead of a normal programme, a Methuen drama book, including the script of the play you are about to see, you begin to suspect that this isn't just any play. When you are told at the bar that your drinks may be taken into the theatre with you - and this is the Old Vic, mind you - something different certainly seems to be on the cards. Scaramouche Jones is such a piece. Having opened during the Dublin Theatre Festival last October, this is the first time it has been seen in Britain, but it's been worth the wait.

The back of a circus tent is the setting, ropes hanging from the roof, a climbing frame in one corner and a desk and mirror in the other providing a set-up for the action to occur in. The lighting is simple but does its job very well indeed, and the incidental music is not overpowering but simply adds to the atmosphere of the thing. As the lights dim, the shadow of a clown is cast onto the canvas at the back of the stage as he enacts an act, before appearing to the audience in what is clearly the backstage area of the big top.

Pete Postlethwaite plays the role of a clown, one hundred years old that night, looking back on his life after his last performance. Born on the stroke of midnight at the start of the twentieth century, and having chosen to end his life on the stroke of midnight at the beginning of the twenty-first, he looks back over a life that has seen him travel from Trinidad to Africa, where he is bought as a slave, leaving the continent in his thirties to travel to Italy, and from there to Poland with a group of gypsies, against the backdrop of a very unstable Europe about to erupt into war. After the second World War, at the age of 51, he reaches England, the home of his father, for the first time, and spends the next fifty years performing the part of a clown.

At once tragic and comic, the play echoes effectively the life so many clowns - and other entertainers - are famous for having lived. Justin Butcher, the writer, did not set himself an easy task when he chose to write a one-act, one man piece, but he has pulled it off admirably. The monologue is evocative and romantic throughout, and  paints a picture of a varied and at times exciting life. Taking in a huge journey over many years, and using it as the background of a life spent looking for a sense of home, it's a gripping and compelling story, which is wonderfully told.

Postlethwaite as the only actor onstage also had a difficult job, and he also manages it in nothing short of breathtaking fashion. Talking nearly non-stop for an hour and a half cannot be an easy task, but he does it with style, as we would expect from an Oscar-nominated actor. Watching him as he moves across the stage, done up as a clown and having to be someone who in turn is constantly switching from character to character as he goes through the people who have played a part in his long and fascinating life. To see a better performance, you would have to go a long, long way.

All in all, the language is good enough to stand as a piece on its own, the "cast" - such as he is - is quite fantastic, the set is perfect for the play, and the story is one of the most amusing and interesting I can recall seeing on stage. I can't give it less than five, it's simply unbelievable, just absolutely stunning. Just go and see it while it's on, or you'll regret it.

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