"There are too many notes," declares the Emperor Joseph on hearing one of the young Mozart's early operas. There were times during Peter Shaffer's 1979 play - which hints that Viennese court composer Salieri might have been responsible for the early death of his rival, Mozart - when I felt tempted to call out: "There are too many words." Shaffer doesn't stint when hammering the point home that it doesn't matter whether Salieri poisoned Mozart or not, because he was undoubtedly guilty of murder.
Waging a 10-year campaign of unrelenting spite towards his fellow composer, Salieri effectively destroyed himself and his faith in God. There is a great operatic moment towards the end of the first act of Nikolai Foster's production when Salieri recognises the "agonising delights" of Mozart's work. The music soars, the light falls, sheets of music rain from the ceiling like fluttering birds and Gerard Murphy writhes on the floor as if in orgasm, only to stare emptiness in the face. It is completely OTT, but completely right.
Shaffer's play is a strumpet: gorgeous, gaudy, bosomy and in full sail. But too often Foster treats it like a dowager duchess: stately, but a little bit boring. Colin Richmond's design, with its flickering candles and high prison-like window, is beautiful but well-behaved. On an intellectual level, the play is laughable; but the mixture of murder, music and huge emotions is seductive, and Murphy is a commanding presence. He uses his bulk with enormous delicacy, suggesting being gnawed from the inside-out. There is no one quite to match him on stage: Nichola Burley's Constanze is sometimes inaudible and Bryan Dick's Mozart, a foul-mouthed imp, makes it too clear why the composer was unpopular at court. A solid evening, but not one that soars.
· Until December 8. Box office: 0114-249 6000.
