According to a certain Geordie rumour, Newcastle narrowly missed out to Liverpool in its capital of culture bid because Paul McCartney was seen slipping brown paper packets to the judges. And why would the former Beatle do that? Well, his wife comes from Sunderland. This, and many other pieces of scurrilous gossip, find their way into Alan Plater's extremely funny - and even-handed - analysis of Tyneside's reorientation as a "post-industrial, information-based, leisure-oriented society".
Kev has found a role for himself guarding the art in a former factory. It's lonely, wiling away the small hours in a room full of high-minded concepts, with nobody to talk to but the burglars.
The first of the intruders, Nev, is uncertain why he's been hired to break into a modern art gallery - as far as he's concerned there is nothing worth taking. But he is soon joined by the mastermind of the operation, Bev, an artist who believes she's been the victim of intellectual theft and has come to take back what is rightfully hers.
Plater's premise teeters on the absurd - adding the figure of a vicar co-opted to drive the getaway car stretches credibility somewhat - though it rehearses lively arguments about the revitalising impact of art.
In Max Roberts's pacy and engaging production, Trevor Fox's sardonic Kev and Joe Caffrey's mutton-headed Nev capture the fine balance of Plater's argument. The supposed benefits of cultural regeneration make an easy target for sneering and cynicism - Plater is at least broad-minded enough to point out some of the pros, as well as suggesting it could all be a gigantic con.
· Until March 27. Box office: 0191-232 1232.
