By Carole Fréchette. Translated by John Murrell. Directed by Del Surjik. A Pi Theatre production. At the PAL Theatre on Friday, November 16. Continues until December 1

Carole Fréchette's John and Beatrice is like Waiting for Godot retold as a fairy tale and enacted by clowns. It's fantastic. And Pi Theatre's production is extremely good.

Like Rapunzel in her tower, Beatrice waits for love in her 33rd-floor apartment. She has posted notices declaring that a well-to-do young heiress is seeking a man who will interest, move, and seduce her. She offers a substantial reward, which lures John, a self-described bounty hunter.

As in a fairy tale, John must pass the tests that Beatrice has set. As in Godot, the characters' interactions call into question the nature of reality. When John threatens to leave and Beatrice gets on her knees to beg him to stay, she describes her actions as being "like in a play". They are both clowns, in that they have huge emotions and are dedicated to irrational ways of thinking. When John rages at Beatrice for her babbling, she seizes on the conflict as a proof of love and plunges into a fantastical narrative of reconciliation.

You could hardly ask for better clowns than Karen Rae (Beatrice) and Vincent Gale (John). There's more than a touch of Marilyn Monroe in the transparent innocence of Rae's heiress. The actor's timing is fantastic, and it's pure delight to watch her character switch strategies mid sentence. On opening night, Rae got stuck on a single plaintive note in the play's final passage, but that problem may resolve with time.

Gale's John is much more deadpan and every bit as effective. John is a cynic, a pure inversion of Beatrice's romantic, so it's appropriate that Gale plays things so close to the chest. And this strategy makes it doubly surprising when John's shoulders start to shake with sobs or his face bursts with glee. Everything he does feels authentic.

Del Surjik directed Pi Theatre's physically lyrical production. I especially enjoyed the surreal beauty of Tim Matheson's projection design. One of the cues involves an image of Vancouver's skyline. I don't want to give too much away let's just say it's a gift when it comes.

A lot of the comedy in John and Beatrice derives from stereotypes that could appear sexist. When they lie down together, for instance, John wants to sleep and Beatrice insists on chattering. But the show is so funny it convinced me to accept these roles as elemental. The world can probably be divided into stoics and chatterers regardless of gender.