With this new show from Bristol based Juncture Theatre, writer Oliver Hoare has taken a well used motif – the two faces of a clown – and taken a new look at the dramatic possibilities of the metaphor as symbolic of the human condition.

The two-hander revels in the ambiguity of identity and we are never quite sure whether we are dealing with two characters, the writer and the clown, or one person and an embodied alter ego. Is the writer having some kind of psychotic episode or perhaps a crisis of imagination as he berates the seated clown? Or again, are we witnessing an abusive yet symbiotic relationship between individuals? The play raises questions without employing a dramatic form that leads the audience to closure.

This is a risky strategy, since you always run the risk of leaving the audience befuddled and scratching their heads. However, pull it off and the open-endedness can lead to much stimulation of the little grey cells. Like any good writer, Oliver Hoare does not patronise his audience and has assumed they will be attentive to the ebb and flow of the play (what else would you expect at The Wardrobe?). Consequently he does pull it off – just.

There is just enough silliness to leaven the mix so that our interest is never allowed to flag. All clowns need an audience (could you be a clown without one?) and there is much conspiratorial mugging at the audience from Andy Kelly, who manages well the clown’s brief of enlarging on the outside what may be a small thing on the inside, like a kind of pantograph, which faithfully reproduces whilst bloating the scale. A phrase which recurs, ‘Are you attending// Have I been attending?’ underlines the idea.

Director, Anna Girvan, has some fun when both characters are momentarily clowns and give way to the inner child, allowing their imaginations free rein to flow by association. There is some cleverly funny business involving balloons and childbirth and again a nice piece of mime about getting caught by a fishing hook by new clown, Matt Cristmas. The slapstick humour takes over until, exhausted or disillusioned with the process, there is an unexpected role reversal.

This is a pre-Edinburgh work-out for the company whose challenging theatrical cocktail of slapstick, surrealism and naturalism should, having found the right balance between those elements, find a natural home at the festival and a winning hand to show the festival-goers. ★★★☆☆ Graham Wyles