It's hard to find words that have not been used before about the witty and (to some) outrageous Quentin Crisp, perhaps the 20th century's answer to the19th's Oscar Wilde. Tim Fountain's one-man play Resident Alien finds him living and holding court in New York in a single room full of dust. Nothing dusty about his mind and his opinions about life, people, sexuality and Princess Diana, however, and thank goodness it's Paul Capsis playing him.

It's "a day in the life", starting with the audience walking in on Crisp's sheet-shrouded figure lying on a none-too-clean-looking bed in a room strewn with the detritus of his life, clothes, shoes, somewhere to cook, a television, a makeup table and dozens of books. Crisp wasn't interested in cleaning.

On opening night the audience (and presumably the shrouded Capsis) had to make an exit before things got beyond this point as the fire alarms were set off, possibly by a bit too much smoke from the haze machine. But that did not faze Capsis.

His performance is incisively funny but also rather disturbingly philosophical. Even if you are familiar with Crisp's writings and opinions they still have a capacity to pull an audience up short. Capsis confronts with stories of Crisp's unconventional life and views as he dresses and makes up to face the day.

Crisp admires Mrs Thatcher and sees Princess Diana as less than perfect. He rails at television and eerily foreshadows coming technological enslavement. He talks about living alone and is devastating about marriage and relationships, preferring to live by himself. Yet he will give time to all comers, answering their questions. In this play, visitors do not arrive but there's a strong sense of them. He is not isolated but a great observer of people.

He battles eczema to put on his trademark black velvet suit, kept in a box under the bed. The grey hair is styled with a swooping curl at the front. Makeup is applied. A hat goes on at a jaunty angle. And he seems never to stop talking although the pauses, when they do come, are telling.

Capsis catches all of this with a rich voice, a face and a body that can be both grotesque and beautiful, and an actor's deep intelligence.

His performance is supported by Daniel Nixon's subtle sound, Rob Sowinski's lighting, quite gorgeous at times, and by Romanie Harper's costumes and evocative set. The way in which the presence of a window is suggested, using a painted curtain but allowing it to retain curves, is something to see.

Resident Alien is well worth a visit to The Street.