Welcome to Glockenheim, a town that runs by clockwork. It’s the kind of place you’d expect to find in a Philip Pullman novel, its eponymous bell-tower casting a dark gothic shadow over the simple townfolk,  and forcing them to huddle together around the generous warmth of the innkeeper’s fire.

This is where you, the audience, come in, to find the Larkum Studio transformed into a good ol’ German Inn. The grog is flowing, regulars prop up the bar, and the innkeeper provides suitably garrulous conversation. Once this story is wound up, the programme warns, then there’s no stopping it, and the cogs certainly seem to have been turned, the springs certainly sprung, long before the audience arrives.

It is the night before Karl, the clock-maker’s apprentice, is to reveal his “clockwork” for the bell-tower, and an audience has gathered to witness it, entertained in the meantime by a storyteller’s eerie yarns. This cosy scene is soon interrupted by the arrival of the sinister Dr. Kalmeneius, and the story can begin in earnest.

Pullman’s novel is essentially a study into the uncanny, something captured effectively by Holly Race’s new adaptation. She weaves together the various narrative stands skilfully and convincingly, whilst maintaining the gothic, fairy-tale vibe that permeates this story. There are moments in which the action seems to have been transferred perhaps too literally from book to stage, with certain episodes lacking the immersive realism achieved by the performance as a whole. These, however, are mercifully few, and seem to have more to do with the practicalities of staging a complicated narrative piece in a space as compact as the Larkum Studio.

Race has done well to assemble a talented cast and crew from an apparently diverse theatrical background. One actor was even summoned from a bookshop on a remote Greek island to join the already rehearsing cast, a decision that clearly paid off, with Eleanor Buchan’s performance as Gretl, the innkeeper’s daughter, proving to be the most dynamic of the show. She gives an enchanting, playful rendition of Pullman’s innocent heroine, whilst her Princess Mariposa provides an entertaining study into aristocratic haughtiness.

Matt Jamie’s threatening reserve as Dr. Kalmenius also stands out. He is, as demands, a well-primed mechanism, requiring only the slightest provocation to swing into violent action. The tension his presence on stage creates is palpable, especially in his exchanges with the young Karl, ably played by Tom Crellen, who draws on his experience as a current undergraduate to present an agitated sociopath suffering from extreme deadline anxiety.

The decision to design the production around the ‘steampunk’ genre added an interesting Jules Verne edge to the performance, with old clocks reassembled to provide an array of bizarre mechanical devices. The designers, Gillian Bates and Laura Barkes, use a difficult space well, whilst Alex Beckett’s lighting and back-projections reinforce the oppressive presence that the clocktower comes to symbolize, with cogs and giant clock faces presiding over the action. Time is one commodity that this production, faithful to its theme, won’t let you forget.
Though it does suffer from its limitations, it’s an interesting project from an ambitious young company, and showcases some real talent. You could do worse on a winter’s night than to join the citizens of Glockenheim for an evening of eerie entertainment.