Did someone say Jackie Collins, that doyenne of literary raunch and observer of human sexual dynamics? Fantastic! And an adaptation of her first novel, which revealed her formative interest in, and talent for, capturing the drama of love and sex within the bounds of patriarchy, and set in the world of showbusiness (albeit not in the Hollywood Hills but the leafy green film industry of swinging 60s Hampstead)? Great!

But played out in miniature, in a series of lit doll’s houses, and mainly acted by repurposed Barbie dolls. What? Who dreamed this up? An experimental adult Swedish company, Malmö Dockteater, and “adult” is quite the understatement. Directed by Erik Holmström, also puppet designer, the dolls come with pubic hair, gigantic erections and heavy, surround-sound breathing. In between the story of a marriage in the doldrums, infidelity and female ambition in an era of predatory film directors and savage casting couches (all conceived decades before Harvey Weinstein and #MeToo), there are eye-watering helpings of nudity, fellatio, cunnilingus, quickies and straight-up bonking. This is puppetry with balls in more ways than one, which makes the adult content in the current West End puppet production of Avenue Q look like The Muppet Christmas Carol.

All the better for its left-field weirdness … The World Is Full of Married Men. Photograph: Emmalisa Pauly

It is all the stranger for being scripted in Swedish and translated by Lulu Raczka back into English. Its two puppeteers, Erik Olsson and Kajsa Ericsson, are followed by videographer Josefin Beischer, whose roving camera relays the action on to a big screen. They voice all the characters, but join in on some parts of the story, dressed as lifesize versions of the dolls. What the actual blazes?

And yet it works. More than works. The robust, sexy narrative is recognisably Collins. The miniature lightboxes, designed by Maja Kall, are laden with exquisite period detail, from 1960s wallpaper to intricately designed drinks cabinets, hotel-room shag pads and nightclubs. The sound effects are graphic, especially during the sex scenes. The splicing of puppet world with human actors throws into relief the comedy of it all, but also infuses the dolls with more humanity, somehow. It is an enthralling, titillating and wildly imaginative production.

The story explores the politics of a long marriage: Linda is a woman in the 1960s stuck in a 50s life of housewifery, boredom and yearning (think Mad Men’s Betty Draper). David is her philandering husband, having an affair with aspiring actor and model Claudia. There is no sign of Collins’ fabulous creation Lucky Santangelo yet, but the women here are still kick-ass and come out on top (David’s sexually voracious secretary is a highlight). Collins was writing in the era of John Updike and a flash of her literary knowingness comes with a fun allusion to his Rabbit, Run series on marriage longueurs, just for those who think she was nothing more than a bonkbuster queen. Despite the nervous giggles that the story inspires, there is so much universal truth in it about sexual relationships and inequality that still feels utterly relevant today.

One of the best shows of the year so far, all the better for its left-field weirdness. It sets a precedent for relaying all of Collins’ magnificent back catalogue this way, too. Next stop, The World Is Full of Divorced Women? Bring it on!