A 12 piece ensemble of traditional African performers, Adzido, could be just what you need to bring a little warmth and cheer into the shivering gloom of an Irish winter.

Shango - God of Thunder is a dazzlingly staged, joyously rendered parable of freedom, hope, peace and, that old favourite, the concrete resilience of the human spirit. It uses a nicely proportioned blend of African dance, percussion and storytelling to build a narrative drive of some energy.

Shango is a doomed king, cursed by the demands of a wildly dysfunctional family and an array of cagey enemies. The underlying themes are well worn. The storey comes across as ever so slightly hokey. But the dancing and the drumming more than make up for the hint of corn.

The dancers are superb, displaying great athleticism and rhythm or what might otherwise be termed all manner of leppin' about. These are lithe limbed pyrotechnics with snake hipped swivels, lightfoot shimmies and toothy grins. The dancers enjoy a symbiotic relationship with the percussionists, the two elements colliding and then combining until they build up into a gaudily hued riot of ethnicity.

If Adzido do nothing else, they certainly revive the long lost art of "putting on a show". There are more costume changes here than an early 1970s Babs Streisand gig.

Their enthusiasm is infectious, almost viral, and by the finish, they've even induced a little audience participation.

Rare enough, that. So be in no doubt you'll know when you've been Shango-ed.