Rebecca Vaughan's one woman show seamlessly yet dizzyingly stitches together characters from across Austen's oeuvre, creating a kind of Austenian bingo for those well-versed in the novels. The breadth, stretching beyond the six much-loved books to the early writing of Austen's youth and unfinished fiction of her final years, is applaudable, yet is likely to be alienating for the uninitiated or even the casual reader.

What it achieves in breadth, Vaughan's script lacks in narrative. Though aptly recognising the importance of Austen's intrusive and satirical narrator figure and bringing her to life, this is a meagre thread on which to string a series of monologues only thematically connected.

The selections betray a strong understanding of both Austen's context and her infamous irony, yet some of Vaughan's fourteen impersonations are rather similar. They lack the nuance of the historically accurate costume and props (Pride and Prejudice and Zombies this is not). The few props include a small letter, folded to make its own envelope, that all-important Georgian vehicle of gossip and a crucial plot device in many of Austen's novels.

Vaughan's manifestations of the more hysterical characters are her best, including Sense and Sensibility's Marianne Dashwood and Harriet Smith, who seems to burst forth animatedly from the pages of Emma. Sadly there's no Mrs Bennet, but given the enduring popularity of Alison Steadman's 1995 incarnation for the BBC, and the copycat qualities of Alex Kingston's performance in ITV's Lost in Austen (2008), this was perhaps a wise omission.

Though the performance isn't much longer than an hour – not the best value for money at £13 a ticket – it's exhausting to watch just one performer at length, and brings about a craving for the chemistry of interaction. Praise is due, however, to the acting; even while amusing with the caricatured romantic fixations of Harriet, Vaughan is able to convey the desperate sadness behind her over-eagerness. At the other end of the spectrum, the visceral unpleasantness of Mrs Norris (Mansfield Park) and Mrs Elton (Emma) are blackly comic delights. Vaughan is equally convincing as young and old characters, and the transitions are clear and unjarring. The lighting changes, however, are harsh and distracting.

Well-crafted and arguably a work of literary criticism in its own right, Austen's Women might best be enjoyed alongside a short ensemble piece which would provide a welcome change of pace.