If Quentin Tarantino ever dabbled in fringe theatre, he might come up with something like Roadmovie. Written by Nick Whitfield and Wes Williams, this is a structurally choppy tale of two video-shop geeks, spliced with muted home movies and musings on the nature of film. Alex is a mild-mannered new father who quietly observes the shop's strange customers, including a mysterious man in a suit who is always accompanied by 12 Chinese men. His co-worker Elvis is a suicidal cultural terrorist who is so appalled by the mainstream tastes that confront him each day that he snaps at customers: "You can't have Sleepless in Seattle until you've seen The Manchurian Candidate."
Some of the observations about cinema are humorously deadpan: "Just because they're on horses," Alex says of the men in Clint Eastwood's Unforgiven, "doesn't mean it's not a road movie." Others, though, could have come from a dummy's guide to existentialism. When Alex says that films don't exist when an audience isn't present, and that "Goodfellas isn't the film Martin wanted to make, it's the film you watch," he sounds like a teenager with a copy of Sartre's selected prose in his pocket.
Roadmovie doesn't quite live up to memories of Albert Camus, What's the Score?, Whitfield and Williams's 1996 fringe hit that melded philosophy and the art of goalkeeping. But it is softly directed by Williams and contains some elegant, entertaining films of its own. It is amiably performed by Whitfield, who makes us sympathise as much with the anarchic, furious Elvis as the easy-going Alex.
· Until Monday. Box office: 0131-556 6550.
