Dwell is set up as a voyeuristic view of a small hotel room in the middle of somewhere, with the audience invited to view the goings-on in this book by the hour lodging.

In reality, it is an odd, voyeuristic melange of burlesque, dance, acrobatics and comedy rolled into a one-hour show.

I wouldn’t want to stay at Dwell under any circumstances.

A fear of finding an hilarious manager lurking under the bed, a maintenance man with a secret desire for a contemporary dance career, lesbian acrobats (now I know how it works), a couple of Y-front clad gents in gimp masks engaging in an unusual dance expression of their weirdness or a drag/boylesque artiste stripping and changing in to boy gear.

Not to mention the runaway bride trashing the hotel room or a drug-affected young woman turning everything in the room upside down.

The show was stolen in the main, however, by the cleaner, appearing after every act and ultimately delivering a superb act of her own.

There is no narrative or dialogue in the show, excepting a quick, expletive-rich opening from the muscled maintenance man.

There lacks a storyline apart from the arrival and departure of each of the guests for their stay at Dwell.

The show forces one to question why but I don’t think this is the intention.

Funny, clever and well delivered with very little by way of a conclusion, but judging by the audience reaction and my own, a bloody fine way to spend an hour early in the evening to life the soul with laughter.

The various performance arts delivered in Dwell were each singularly different and utterly enjoyable.

You will get the result in the end as I did on reflection in the bar post-program.