PERHAPS you reckoned that ventriloquism was harmless kids' stuff involving coy fluffy ducklings called Orville. Actually, the voice-throwers' art was invented by Satan.

Yon persuasive evil spirit Mephistopheles was Old Nick's original right-hand man - right-hand man, get it? - and, speaking on his master's behalf, Mephi-boy granted self-deluding dupes their earthly desires in exchange for eternal possession of their souls. The pay-off? An afterlife of endless brimstone, fire, and white-hot pokers up the fundament. New-wave vent David Strassmann has set his act in a similar theatre of cruelty.

Revisiting the scene of his first successful UK foray, on the 1996 Edinburgh Fringe, Strassmann continues to probe ventriloquism's infernal roots with his skilful deployment of devil-doll Chuck Wood. Chuck swears, spits, boaks demonically, acts flip and cynical, threatens murder, and has plainly seen The Exorcist too often. He's funny, too.

Chuck's possession of his human partner provided Tuesday night's opening half with a compelling storyline, underlined by Chuck's chilling admonition: ''You need me to say the things you don't got the balls to say, Strassmann.''

In this first hour an audience can't help but be wowed by Strassmann's subtly dramatic physical operation of his dolls, and by his ability to stage seamless bits of four-way comic cross-talk. There's also the wholly engaging Teddy Bear, a furry friend who contrasts with Chuck by being cuddlesome, self-doubting, and innocent.

After the break it's a different story, though. Bitty. Cutesy-pie singing dinosaurs brought alive by computer animatronic technology. A couple of dolls without characters to support them.

Overall? Hellish competent, but little more.