Don’t ever underestimate the power of art. At least not in playwright Tom Stoppard’s recognizable world where themes of cultural juxtapositions and elusive historical accounts are meshed by the written word and the painted canvass.

Staged with an immeasurable dose of charm and sophistication, Indian Ink is a play that satisfies the craving for the political, the mystical, and the comical. Set in two era’s---1930’s India and 1980’s England, the composition is a love story wrapped in layers of declarations about ethno-eccentrics. Theatrical greatness doesn’t get any better than this!

Upon her arrival to India for health reasons, British poet Flora Crewe (Fiona Reid) is somewhat surprised by the fanfare that she receives. Although she has a weakness for romance, men have never been an element of significant magnitude. She writes letters to her sister Eleanor (Hazel Desbarats). She models for a young Indian painter, Nirad Das (Sanjay Talwar), the embodiment of Anglophilia who goes as far as memorizing a map of London’s literary community.

Perhaps the most defining moment of the play comes when Flora is critical of Nirad’s enslavery of Western perceptions in his portrait of her. When the assimilation halts, the end result is a nude masterpiece, albeit, miniature in dimension.

Back in England some 50 years into the future, Eleanor becomes acquainted with the American biographer, Eldon Pike (Steve Ross) who hunts high and low for pieces of the puzzle that will fit into place. After his departure, Eleanor is subsequently greeted by Anish Das (Vik Sahay), the son of Flora’s artistic confidant during her time in India. He, too, is seeking truths untold.

Eleanor and Anish juggle a splendidly humorous scene over their interpretation of events relating to India’s political turmoil. She refers to it as “the mutiny” while he defends his country’s succession as undisputed “independence.”

Throughout this balancing act, the playwright subtly defines the Indian concept of ‘Rasa,’ or the feeling an artist generates in a person that is exposed to any form of art. It’s an undertone that dogs the narrative from the rise and fall of the curtain.

Executing the true essence of her character is Fiona Reid who portrays Flora with a flirty free spirit and youthful vivacity. Because of this effort, it’s difficult to validate the strong performance of Sanjay Talawa’s Nirad, which epitomizes chivalry and sensitivity. Hazel Desbarats lends Eleanor a jubilant aura reminiscent of the late Queen Mother, a role that is warm despite the odd display of old school political beliefs. She’s always seen with either the bright up-and-comer Vik Sahay who charms as Anish Das, a first generation Indian making his way through British society or the dim-witted researcher Eldon Pike, a character that Steve Ross gives just the tolerable amount of American arrogance yet is likeable nonetheless.

Indian Ink leaves a noble impression on multiple levels thanks to director Richard Cottrell who keeps a tightly compressed show by overlapping scenes and giving the two storylines empty space on stage to transmit an effective time lapse. Creative endeavours by set and costume designer Sue Benson and lighting initiatives by Louise Guinand indeed make this a production to write home about.