A triumph of wit over substance it may be, but Rupert Goold's Faustus is nonetheless a triumph. This adaptation, written by the director with Headlong dramaturge Ben Power, presents a smorgasbord of theatrical delights spread across two intermeshing narratives.
One is Christopher Marlowe's Dr Faustus. The story grafted on to it is that of Brit artists Jake and Dinos Chapman, played with infuriating smugness by Stephen Noonan and Jonjo O'Neill.
It relates how the pair came to create Insult to Injury, the work in which they disfigured etchings by Goya, replacing the faces of victims of torture with those of clowns and puppies.
There are common themes. Faustus's impatience with intellectual boundaries finds a mirror in the brothers' assertion that art is simply courageous action.
The protagonists also share a dehumanised arrogance. Helen, an Afghan refugee, berates Jake for not understanding the human suffering he is colouring over. Faustus seeks fame, too stupid in his cleverness to consider his immortal soul.
Goold's direction is all over the stage, binding the play together through a slew of visual devices. Chapman-esque clown imagery pervades Faustus's tale. The Seven Deadly Sins crop up at a Turner prize party. Other connections seem forced or tenuous: is it really so significant that the brothers entitled a piece Hell?
Still, the surfeit of ideas is exciting and the piece needs it: the lack of real concurrence between the two story strands grows more evident as the evening moves on. Twice the director's signals indicate that the Chapmans are "selling their souls". Neither time does the parallel really work.
Yet even as one wrestles to find a coherent vision of the piece, there are more treats in store. Scott Handy's Faustus could give the poetry a bit more welly and Jake Maskall is a boringly camp Mephistopheles. But there's an hilarious turn from Mark Lockyer as an envious arts pundit, a recreation of Martin Creed's The Lights Going On and Off that is a genuine coup de thé‚tre, constant surprises from Laura Hopkins's set and a closing tableau that takes the breath away. Clever and vibrant.
Until 18 November (020 7722 9301).
Faustus
Hampstead Theatre
Eton Avenue, Swiss Cottage, NW3 3EU
