The Alchemist at the Rose Theatre (London)

It's a grey and chilly Saturday or "British Summer Time" as the optimists would have it. You're curled up on the sofa and most of the way through a season of Doctor Who DVDs. The remnants of a valiant if poorly executed attempt at home baking lay strewn on the floor around you, along with coffee cups and one large, cross-looking cat.

The evening spreads itself out before you with two clear paths defined against cloudy backdrop:

1. Stick in another DVD and crack out the funky Polish vodka with grass in it that you've been saving for rainy days and similar.
2. Get off your backside and go to the theatre. You paid for tickets after all - twelve quid! This is going to require considerable effort, though, and there remains the troubling question of finding some trousers...

On this occasion, the miser in me forced me towards option 2. Something of a result when you consider that the last performance I took in at this particular theatre seemed to have been scripted by a 14-year-old with a penchant for fan fiction. Nevertheless, trousers were located and the trip was made...

... and thank goodness it was.

My ignorance on the works of Ben Jonson was almost total. I had a vague inkling that he may have been a contemporary of Shakespeare which put be in a bit of a funk as I definitely did not have the energy for Shakespeare. The Alchemist was billed as a comedy, however, which bouyed my spirits some.

The previous visit to the Rose has forearmed me with key logistical information. I took £5 (enough for two drinks) and the opportunity to grab a McPiss in the Globe on the way (no loos at the Rose. Archeology and that.)

So there I sat, bladder voided, generous glass of wine in hand hoping that I wouldn't regret the bold step of leaving the sofa. Enter the three main characters...

... and then it was the end of the play and there I sat, clapping like a mad bastard.

In the interim I was just transported, largely due to the three main characters, Face, Subtle and Doll Common played by the excellent Jerome Thompson, James Burgess and Eleanor Russo respectively.

Thompson in particular was just brilliant. Fantastic timing, great versatility and just enough pathos to make this particular audience member care. There were elements of Python in both Thompson and Burgess' performances and I just lapped it up. The 400-year-old script seemed to pop and fizz as these two bought it to life, ably assisted by a suitable range of fall guys. A scene in Act III depicting the three leads taunting Dapper (a suitably gullible Tom Worsley) via a visit from the Queen of the Fairies will stay with me for a long time. The backside that I so struggled to heave from the sofa was very nearly laughed off.

This is much more like it from the Rose. Talented young actors giving air to a play that may well not have seen the light of day at other, swankier theatres and yet it was just brilliant fun.

I can only recommend this play to you, if you get the chance to see it. House on the Hill Productions is also going on my list.