It's black magic in its most insidious incarnation: you'll be bewitched, spellbound, slain by the sleight of hand, and your children will be running away to join - if not the circus - then a black-light performance troupe near you . . . Well, in the most extreme cases perhaps; but the magic is there all right, and thanks to the latest gravity- and logic-defying wizardry dreamed up by the Black Light Theatre of Prague in its production of Peter Pan, you'll believe a boy can fly. In the surreal world of its creator, bicycles float, underpants on a clothes-line fight it out for the honour of the lingerie pegged between them, furniture glows with radioactive malice and beds levitate. The illusions are created using a type of lo-tech device recalling a simpler age, and prove that not all dazzling special effects are in the movies. 'It's all done with ultraviolet light - it's a simple trick,' said manager and former Black Light performer Marek Feid. 'The props are covered in phosphorescent paint to make them glow - just like in a disco - and everything else is blacked out with velvet, the best material for absorbing light. The actors are covered in black, making them invisible, so everything seems to take on a life of its own. But we use all sorts of other theatrical techniques, too,' said Feid, from Prague. 'There's acting, dancing, mime, puppeteering - 12 performers are needed for this show - and pantomime . . . everything but words, because the story is told through movement and music.' This dream vision of the classic J.M. Barrie tale, presented here as part of the Children's Arts Carnival, features a comical Captain Hook in tattered gypsy garments, a Puck-like, woodland-spirit hero who's more Pan than Peter, and a ferocious, bejewelled crocodile, snapping, soaring and indisposed to surrender its ticking secret. 'The old name for this type of show is 'black cabinet', where 'cabinet' just means 'room',' said Feid. 'It's based on a kind of theatre which came from China centuries ago, where court puppeteers would do tricks in a room curtained off with black velvet. Our founder, Jiri Srnec, re-invented the technique by giving it a modern interpretation.' For Srnec, it all began with those amorous underpants. Legend has it that following a visit to his dentist, Srnec, still under the influence of anaesthetic, passed a clothes-line; hallucinating, he saw the underwear war, and made it his mission to reproduce his bizarre vision on stage. 'Mr Srnec started the company in 1961,' said Feid, 'and its shows were a big hit at the Edinburgh Festival the year after. Since then we've done about 200 tours in 50-odd countries, performing at 65 arts festivals. We've played in every continent except the Antarctic. The company is now divided into two groups, one touring almost constantly, the other based in Prague.' Now 68, Srnec no longer tours with the theatre, but is still writing and producing shows: his latest, based on the life of Czech author Franz Kafka, will hit the stage next year. For decades, however, not all the monsters in Srnec's weirdly lit world were make-believe. After the Soviet Union crushed the Czechoslovakian uprising of 1968, the Black Light Theatre became one of only two companies allowed to leave the country to perform abroad: the communist regime, said Feid, seemed to think that Srnec's simple tales were unlikely to be invested with political comment. Even if they were, the Black Light's reputation allowed the communists to luxuriate in the phosphorescent glow, and there was hard cash to be had thanks to the constant demand for the company from around the world: all money made on tour had to be handed over to the government. But it wasn't until the appropriately named Velvet Revolution of 1989 and the arrival of democracy that the company tasted freedom - although the flavour has proved bittersweet. 'There are several state theatres and lots of private ones . . . and no funding,' said Feid. 'We have to make money for ourselves now, and we have to get sponsorship, which is always difficult.' Financial isn't the only sort of trouble Black Light has encountered: Srnec's creation has proved so popular that groups of 'imposter' companies now plagiarise the concept and peddle similar shows. 'The other theatres try to copy us, and mostly put on shows for tourists,' said Feid. 'But they don't do it so well and give us a bad name; I have to explain again and again who we are, that we're the originals.' Peter Pan, by the Black Light Theatre of Prague; tonight, City Hall, sold out; tomorrow, Sha Tin Town Hall, sold out; Saturday, Tsuen Wan Town Hall, and Sunday, Tuen Mun Town Hall, both 7.30pm; tickets $90 to $150; call 2734 9009
