The Secret Agent – review

There is a remarkable moment in Theatre O's latest – a Joseph Conrad-inspired political thriller – when a woman who has refused to see the truth suddenly looks at the world with eyes wide open. Everything suddenly becomes clear, and she stares at a vision that is clearly both ridiculous and appalling. The woman is Winnie, wife of the double agent Verloc, who has infiltrated an anarchist cell but whose paymasters want a return on their investment in this turn-of-the-century "war on terror".

What better way to extinguish liberal sympathies than by reducing people to fear and panic? As one of Verloc's minders says: "They need to be scared. Otherwise they'll continue to welcome dissidents and terrorists and preachers of hate, and refuse to extradite suspected criminals, and call it providing asylum in the name of freedom of expression and civil liberties and human rights."

The modern parallels are obvious, but they are still in danger of being suffocated in this production, though thankfully it has shed many of its unnecessary distractions since debuting at this year's Edinburgh festival. It is now sharper and tighter, and displays a fitful brilliance. Mind you, there's still something irritating about the way nobody can move a chair without making a song and dance about it, and the 75 minutes is so wordy and visually showy that were it to last much longer the audience might expire from sensory overload.

There are impressive individual moments, but they don't always cohere, and the show is best when it sticks to telling the story of what happens when you get caught up in political machinations and life blows up in your face. But it's hardly dull; there are outstanding performances from Leander Deeny and Helena Lymbery, and you have to admire a company who, when faced with a serious misfire, can rethink and transform a show.