Here Lies Henry boldly, and rather riskily, claims to: “challenge the conventional relationship between actor and audience and spins it completely on its head”. I wouldn’t go that far, but it does play some interesting games with the nature of performance, and the traditional atmosphere and interactions within the theatre. Sadly the show loses its way in the middle, detracting from what is otherwise an admirable performance.

The early stages of Daniel McIvor’s 1995 play explore the act of performing itself: its pressures, its nerves and its expectations. Rather than actively putting himself forward to be an actor, Henry (Matthew Hyde) appears forced onto a stage where even lighting, sound and production values appear to both guide him and wrong-foot him. This is used cleverly to create both humour and a sense of powerlessness, as Henry becomes alternately annoyed, delighted and humiliated by the unseen and apparently unwelcome technical team – the naked pictures bring hilarity but also the uncomfortable sensation of being laid bare, with all your weaknesses for the world to see.

Hyde is an extremely talented performer. He narrates the 70-minute one-man show almost faultlessly, at times delivering McIvor’s very wordy script at a remarkably rapid pace. He is flamboyant, energetic and deft with dialogue, although he is also excellent at knowing when to drag out the pauses, with small movements or expressions creating comedy. The play is self-reflective, as it draws comedy from the very impressiveness of this performance by flipping this idea on its head – the laughs often come from Hyde’s skilful pretence that he is in fact all at sea. Henry the character may be at sea, indeed, but Hyde the actor clearly has a strong grasp on this slippery piece of theatre. He guides us through the seemingly random connections his mind makes, from childhood memories to Lady Gaga to the mysterious “body in the next room”.

As the play proceeds, however, it does begin to drag and it’s all a little tiring at times. While there is no doubt that Hyde does a splendid job, the material has to work hard to keep the audience engaged. The randomness of the first half of the play is captivating, but as the monologue progresses it is easy to get lost in the repeating, whirling dialogue – and no longer in a good way. Rather than trying to work out the riddles within McIvor’s work, I found myself letting it wash over me, as what strives for intrigue somehow achieves banality.

The continuing repetitions are surely meant to be effective, but the work loses some of its impact as you begin to predict Hyde’s next line. McIvor’s script and Hyde’s performance are both so clearly capable of keeping us on our toes if they wanted, that it’s actually less enjoyable when we’re allowed to rest on our laurels a bit more, and it feels a little lazy as the script slips into more conventional one-man-show territory.

Having said this, Hyde does give a striking performance and manages to draw us back in before it’s too late. The plot revelation towards the end is interesting rather than game-changing, but in a play so rammed with twists and turns it’s hard to surprise us. Overall, this is undoubtedly a confusing production, and the script contains more than a hint of pretension, but it is an entertaining performance that deserves high credit.

Here Lies Henry is playing at the Camden People’s Theatre until Saturday 14 June. For more information and tickets, see the Camden People’s Theatre website.