Miranda’s parents, back “in the ancient past - the 1990s,” went on a voyage to a mysterious island off the coast of Argentina with a team of palaeontologists. No one had ever made it back from there before to tell the tale, but after several years’ exploration, Miranda’s family had returned, along with several crates of the island’s most notable fauna - dinosaurs!

That is pretty much it as far as the plot is concerned, but don’t let that worry you - this backstory is but a pretext for a parade of the most incredible array of gigantic puppets I (and likely you) have ever seen.

First up is Juliette the Segnosaurus, a furry, two-legged herbivore with giant claws; soon followed by Orlando, a glorious blue four-winged micro-raptor, and Beatrice, the baby triceratops who loves being tickled. Miranda, in between grappling to feed, awaken or generally deal with the troublesome and endearing creatures, tells us just the right amount of information about each of them, a must for dino-obsessed kids like mine, but not overwhelming for those of us with more of a layman’s interest.

Then it is the turn of the big beasts. Beatrice’s mum, a magnificent gleaming full size triceratops, is particularly spectacular. But even she is just a warm up act for the main event: Timora the baby T-Rex, and then - after the audience have persuaded Miranda that there are no lawyers in the audience (“I don’t think it will be possible to bring him out after what happened in Coventry,” she initially teases us) - her big brother Titus.

Throughout the performance there is plenty of audience interaction, with one lucky youngster invited to the stage to help out with each dinosaur, and a chance for everyone to get a closer look at Timora at the end of the show.

Particularly impressive were the puppeteers. Sometimes operating in a trio for a single puppet, they were able to bring the puppets to life in breathtaking fashion. It is incredible how much personality they were able to express with a quizzical lean of the head, unimpressed slow blink or defiant lurch of the tail, at the same time as producing the animals’ voices, which ranged from the super-cute to the truly terrifying. They certainly confirmed my hypothesis that puppetry is one of the most expressive and under-rated art-forms on the planet.

Dinosaur World Live is a joy to behold from start to finish, a total treat for all the senses. Hats off to all involved!

Dinosaur World at the New Theatre takes puppetry to a new level, offering an exciting and eye-opening trip to a far away island populated by a set of marvellous creatures who, it turns out, survived the mass extinction of some sixty-five million years ago. Island inhabitant / palaeontologist / dinosaur shepherd Miranda (Danielle Stag) invited an audience of excited children and adults to meet a range of dinosaurs, both cute and scary, in this clever and imaginative show.

The action in Dinosaur World is quite pared down. Stag cheerfully welcomed the audience, gave a relatively unnecessary back story with the aid of a model boat to explain her presence on the island, then brought in a range of dinosaur friends including a Triceratops, a Giraffatitan and a Tyrannosaurus Rex, explaining their habits and care with engaging humour and a good dose of audience participation. There's no need for more, really; the show doesn't require much in the way of window dressing - they have ruddy great (and small) dinosaurs. The important stuff, the artistry that must have gone into producing the animals and the skills of the puppeteers who do their best to make themselves invisible, is all beneath the surface. The dinosaurs themselves are extremely impressive and the puppetry is very cleverly done, with the puppeteers dressed in dark, functional clothing, posing as keepers when necessary, but generally just allowing themselves to go unnoticed beside their far more absorbing charges. The movements and sounds made by the dinosaurs are convincing and characterful, and there's a deal of gentle comedy in the way they're made to interact with the humans.

My four-year-old daughter is keen on dinosaurs but hasn't even scratched the surface of preschool prehistory knowledge, in comparison to some of the infant-savants in the audience. The question 'What sort of dinosaur do you think this is?' elicited a chorus of suggestions half of which neither of us had ever heard of, while in response to 'What do you think it likes to eat?' mine was the only child who gamely shouted out 'Pears!'. Good dinosaur knowledge fortunately wasn't a prerequisite for enjoying the show, which devoted itself to showing the - erm - human side of dinosaurs. A puppy-like little T-Rex, a ready-to-hatch egg and a baby Triceratops made the animals seem friendly and accessible, and happily a bit of drama was added by the arrival of the T-Rex's bigger brother, complete with moody lighting, tension-building music and lots of roaring.

I think the only problem is that these wonderful puppets would appear to far, far greater advantage in a more intimate setting. It is of course a measure of the show's popularity that they can hold their own in a venue like the New Theatre, and while I'd like to see them cram the mighty T-Rex into the Holywell Music Room it probably wouldn't be a good idea. But, while they have noted this problem and try to make up for it by inviting children on stage and offering a 'meet and greet' with the smaller dinosaurs after the show, there are so many people queuing for a stroke that you're whisked through in a matter of seconds, like tourists catching a glimpse of the Crown Jewels before being swept past by the throng.

This is probably something that just has to be accepted as part of an informative, exciting, and understandable popular show, so I'd recommend trying to catch one of the more ad-hoc dinosaur appearances, which sometimes take place at venues like the Natural History Museum, as well as a trip to the main event.