In an extremely brief programme note, Braham Murray asks: "What is there to say about She Stoops to Conquer?" Well, you would hope he has plenty to say, since he's chosen to direct it. Yet the Royal Exchange's billing of the piece as "a rare roast beef of a comedy" suggests a fairly stolid, meat-and-potatoes approach.
There's nothing to dislike about Murray's revival; it's just that there is nothing to get particularly excited about either. And you search in vain for a reason why a competent retread of a single-joke Georgian comedy (in which two London sophisticates mistake a country house for an inn with mildly amusing results) should bear any vital connection to the 21st century.
You could argue that Goldsmith's cast of "dandy prats", "flattened tarts" and "awkward boobies" makes the piece an early study in the excesses of yob culture; while the laddish antics of Tony Lumpkin mark him out as the character from 18th-century drama most deserving of an Asbo.
Yet there's little real menace at the heart of Celyn Jones's portrayal of Lumpkin as an amiably vocal yokel, nor much in the way of despicable arrogance from Milo Twomey and Jack Tarlton as the two thoroughbred dandy prats obliged to adapt to provincial culture. Even the usually ebullient Desmond Barrit seems strangely subdued as a lugubrious Hardcastle, resorting to extraneous business with the front rows of the audience to eke out a few laughs.
There is, however, a stand-out performance from Alison Pargeter, whose Kate Hardcastle clearly relishes the wanton liberation of her role-play as a frisky barmaid. It's a piquant performance that makes much of what goes on around her seem a little flavourless. But there's enough to satisfy anyone who likes roast beef well done.
· Until July 1. Box office: 0161-833 9833.
