Theatre review: The Presents, Glasgow

As we waited for the last few stragglers to arrive, a loud grizzle built inside the Cottier. Audiences of babies aren't known for their patience, and if The Presents didn't get underway soon, the desire for milk, a nap, or to ransack the set would surely overcome them.

Then it happened. Percussionist Iain Sandilands struck a single note on his glockenspiel, and every eye in the room looked his way. Crucially, all crying immediately ceased – and it stayed that way for pretty much 30 minutes. Yes, there was the odd outburst of quickly appeased griping – and one wee girl was clearly more interested in what lay inside her mum's top than anything Reeling & Writhing Theatre had to offer – but the vast majority of the tiny audience was captivated.

Now that people have stopped asking the question "why make theatre for infants" (no, they won't remember it, but yes, it will help their development and give them a good time in the here and now) and moved onto the more interesting question of "how", a tough challenge has emerged. Children's theatre thrives on "suddenlys" – moments when wandering minds are brought back to the action by something attention-grabbing and new.

How you do that without startling a baby into a screaming frenzy is no small task, yet Reeling & Writhing accomplish this beautifully time and again. The gentle sounds of cello, operatic voice and glockenspiel, complemented by scrunchy paper, sparkling present boxes and a family of knitted hedgehogs kept us enthralled.