When a quintet of convicts go on the run, an awfully big adventure is on the cards. Especially as our five runaways are bound to each other by the ankles, and must flee to the far off land where the ''master skellington key'' can set them free. Aided by gifts from some gnarly old fairy godmother type, aimless Chubb, cowardy-custard Horse, shy Norway, bossy boots 3-Inch and brainbox Pencils cross land and sea on their journey, encountering all manner of challenges in climates hot and cold before they reach their goal. That all this pop-eyed activity is carried along by a waggishly choreographed series of blackboard squiggles accompanied by nifty smatterings of barbershop, Doo-Wop and gospel harmony singing makes for a frippishly playful experience.

Developed at the embracingly innovative Battersea Arts Centre, the Cartoon De Salvo company have grabbed hold of a delightfully English form of physical theatre to create a slick doodle of a show. At its heart is an age-old voyage of self-discovery, with metaphysical echoes of fairytales old and new. So when the gang take a final leap of faith, one can't help but think of the final heroic frames of Thelma and Louise, while their earlier travails recall The Wizard of Oz's singalonga quest down the yellow brick road.

Even so, performers Craig Byrne, Joanna Holden, George Keeler, Brian Logan and Sophie Russell, working under director Alex Murdoch, manage to stamp a distinctive whimsicality on proceedings, leaving things just loose enough to add little rhythmic flourishes to their briskly executed routine. Coming in at a zippily brief 75 minutes, this 21st-century fable of penury and release is a breath of fresh air.