What does it profit a man to gain the whole world if he loses his soul? Well, what better way to find out than to sell yourself for the price of a ticket to Rough Magic's wonderfully lascivious floorshow Faustus - a Black Mass of Marlowe and writer Anita Sullivan's profane humour. Mephisto, a devilish Maitre d', leads you to your seat while the worldly Doctor himself plays host; a skull-headed spectre resplendent in a high-collared cloak. A debauched cabaret ensues, with Lucifer's leather- clad creatures insinuating themselves under tables and wantonly curling their tongues at nervous diners. The sumptuous three-course menu includes Augury soup and Sybarites' ruin: food Michael Winner would relish accompanied by a spectacle that would shame Ken Russell. A ravishing interpretation that transforms a familiar morality play into eminently digestible Fringe fare.
To Sat. The Garage (venue 81)