ZUNI Icosahedron's latest production presents six versions of one play. Four directors team up in pairs to come up with each evening's production. The Legend refers to the life (and writings) of the late Chinese novelist Chang Ai-ling, well known for her romantic novels. However, this show only takes Chang as a launch point. The four directors each respond to her work by spinning varied tales, linking diverse themes such as teenage suicide, cultural criticism, the Hong Kong election, local censorship laws and homo-eroticism. All Zuni's actors have seemingly mastered the fine art of holding a pose for an extended length of time. Here, two knife-wielding actors stood relatively motionless throughout the first section of the play. Their ordeal was only broken by occasional movements, such as the trademark Zuni walk, and a Latin-style, martial arts dance routine. The set was striking, the centre-piece being two five-metre high bookcases placed symmetrically on stage, separated by a flight of stairs. I am not sure how some of the pop songs - a Morrissey/Smiths tune, a Depeche Mode oldie, or for that matter, The Pet Shop Boys' number Your Funny Uncle - fitted in with the play's theme. Appropriately though, 'passion, love, sex, money, violence, religion, injustice, death' (from The Pet Shop Boys Paninaro) summed up the mood perfectly. Linking Chang's writing with the British pop bands' parody of an Italian youth cult could be seen as tenuous. But then there was film footage shown of a teenage gang-war from an unidentified movie. Photographic slides with Chinese text such as 'I'm already dead', 'I want to talk reason' and 'I've had enough' were also projected in quick succession. Adding to the surreal feel, a dead-pan delivery of what seemed like a child's essay about making dim sum and writing letters, quickly merged into an analysis of jumping off balconies and sewing up mutilated body parts. On Thursday evening, Edward Lam used the second part of the production to comment on the censorship of a poster from his last production and the subsequent media coverage. Danny Yung's Friday contribution of three overgrown 'teenage' school girls in cheongsams discussing confused sexual identities (with a cacophony of male voices in the distance) hit the mark with great comic effect. One can see the Zuni collective is often loath to pull the scissors out to edit down some long, overdrawn sequences. Despite this, they have managed to carve out a niche in Hong Kong as a unique theatre group with a prolific output.