BRITNEY has it. Kerry Katona and Sophie Anderton reportedly have it. Along with a tedious reality series and a self- named perfume, Bipolar Disorder could easily be dismissed as another celebrity fad – if you’re lucky enough not to have witnessed at first hand the very real havoc the disease can wreak.

Bipolar Ringmaster (without a circus), which debuted last night at the Bluecoat as part of DaDaFest 2010, shines a spotlight onto the savage highs and crippling lows experienced by sufferers.

It opened with a man lying in a cross shape in the middle of the stage under a screen. He was flanked by a messy pile of children’s books, two dressmakers’ dummies and a lap-top, while, to a background of jazz and strange bubbles and pops, the audience waited, just like Ennui L’Estrange, the ringmaster of the title was, texting, chatting and reading the handout left on the seat, for the ride to commence.

It began with a whisper. “I have nothing to live for, I don’t even know why I’m on this planet,” it hissed. “I’ve got my whole life in front of me and nothing to look forward to.” The volume built and the whispers assumed a merciless, circular rhythm, arriving from all directions of the auditorium. The actor writhed on the floor. It was a devastatingly effective device.