Published: 11 March 2010
by JOSH LOEB

BUDDING writers (no pun intended) are generally encouraged to steer clear of subjects about which they are ­ignorant. 

But that well-worn piece of advice, “Write what you know”, is in fact unnecessary as it would be impossible to do otherwise. 

As evidence, look at the inordinate number of plays set at dinner ­parties and the absence of plays set in labs. Even before getting down to the nitty-gritty therefore, The Tulip Wars deserves respect for tackling a subject chronically under­appreciated in the world of the theatre: plant ­biology.   

It is based on the his­torical novel The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas and is a send-up of scientific research.  

Whoever thinks there are no laughs to be had in botany has not heard that great knee-slapper about one monk and his peas – and full marks to American Mark R Giesser for spotting that the fusion of the banal and the earth-shattering inherent in laborious lab work can be hilarious. 

The story runs thus: in a university greenhouse, Audrey Braddock (Donna King) and Adrian Vanderpol (Edward Kingham) compete to become the first to genetically engineer a black tulip. Their quest is driven by the obsessions of long-dead relations Carolus Hoofdorn (Peter Gerald) and Cornelia Vanderpol (Tamzin Paskins), who supernaturally manip­ulate their living avatars in a parody of the “selfish gene” theory.  

Meanwhile, in a slightly shoehorned twist, an inspector from the GM crops licensing department is intent on closing down their operations, which he believes could be a smokescreen for bio-weapons of mass destruction.   

The premise makes for bizarre entertainment and on opening night the audience hooted with laughter at some clever visual tricks. All the actors give a good show but Paskins is a standout. 

Not only can she scrunch up her features into silly expressions as pleasingly as any clown but she is a natural at the dappy-daft-camp routine employed so effectively here. The Tulip Wars is too dense in parts, but one can forgive the odd splurge of impenetrable jargon in a play as joyous as this. 

In summary, this is a rarity – new geeky sci-fi ­theatre that is actually enjoyable.

Until March 28 • 08444 771 000