The Marlborough pub and its accompanying upstairs theatre, are steeped in more than two centuries of history, making it an ideal setting for this esoteric night of "theremin, automata, death ballads and seance".

Against a half-lit backdrop of faded velvet grandeur, Sarah Angliss, of music/art collective Spacedog and vocalist Jenny Angliss came together to perform a collection of eerie English folk songs, Kurt Weill and original work.

Dressed in turn-of-the-century attire and watched over by two jerky, robotic vintage dolls, they made a spooky sight. As Sarah coaxed an otherworldly wail from theremins and musical saws, Jenny's fragile, haunting vocals whispered tales of a mother inviting her three dead children to eat with her at Martinmass - an ode to Laika, the dog who died in space on board the Sputnik 2 and a wry tribute to terrifying public information films - "I am the spirit of dark and lonely water, ready to trap the unwary, the show-off, the fool."

A recreation of a Victorian seance followed, in which the audience, led by Quirkology author Richard Wiseman, joined hands and in pitch darkness managed to make a wicker ball, highlighted by glow-in-the-dark strips, levitate up towards the ceiling. Judging by the drunken guffawing and good-natured fooling, no one was entirely convinced this was the work of a spirit, but it was an atmospheric, interactive novelty nevertheless.

The show was a little ramshackle in execution, but in its imagination, enthusiasm and sheer "where-else-but-a-Fringe?" weirdness, a commendable Gothic delight.