Frank McGuinness's play about the failed 1605 gunpowder plot is like a hallucination. The corpse of queen Elizabeth rises and is transformed into her successor, the infantile King James. Meanwhile, red-cowled conspirators chant and sing; an effigy of the Pope is knocked over; King James flies high above the stage stamping out dissent; and a mischievous furry-legged figure with little horns called the Equivocator wanders around tempting people to equivocate. Yes, all in all, it is a two-and-a-half-hour nightmare.
Rupert Goold's swaggering, clever production ensures that the evening is never less than visually ravishing. From the stunning opening fireworks to the extensive use of ritual, it's a treat for the eye and, in the effective use of music and singing, for the ear too. But if this masque-like element of the play works well, it is only a reminder of the lack of real drama elsewhere. McGuinness seems so intent on trying to re-create the 17th-century state of mind that he forgets that plays need real characters not just representations. As a result, his new play looks mouldier than some of the 16th- and 17th-century offerings from the RSC's Gunpowder season, and comes across as considerably less topical.
It is at its best when it is most straightforward: a marvellous scene in which Robert Ceil carves slices of bloody roast beef with sinister relish as he questions an innocent maid, May, about the plot; another in a sunlit garden where hidden meanings and dark deeds start to emerge.
The cast works valiantly and there are some excellent performances, particularly from Vinette Robinson as May, Fred Ridgeway as Garnet, the Catholic priest with a conscience, Nigel Cooke as Robert Cecil who both loathes James and yet serves him well, and Jonjo O'Neil as the chirpy fanatic Catesby who is happy to kill in God's name. But the play is a damp squib with no explosive power.
· Until February 25. Box office: 0870 060 6632
