Siobhan Redmond's Jean Brodie is a rather more piebald figure than the dark horse of Muriel Spark's novel or the sparkling diamond that won Maggie Smith an Oscar for the film. The profound moral and personal ambiguity that permeates every line of the novel here clings exclusively to its central figure.
Redmond is a triumph, particularly in the detail. When remonstrating with Mary McGregor for opening the window too wide - "Six inches is perfectly adequate; more is vulgar" - she gives a bravura comic performance. But this Brodie is also prone to breaking down in near-tears, and her obsession with Mussolini is made more of than previously.
Sometimes the ambiguity is signalled a little too starkly. In the early, comic scenes, rather too much is made of the potential of lighting and sound effects to create an eerie atmosphere, something the dark edges of the text and Redmond's performance manage adequately on their own. The first scene in the schoolroom, with projected Giottos and photographs of Mussolini, is disconcerting in that the lights are constantly being raised and lowered, meaning that Redmond has to work remarkably hard to maintain energy and attention. As Miss Brodie might say, there must needs be some leaven in the lump - a dictum adopted throughout the ascending first half.
Gripes aside, Muriel Romanes's production is inventive and vivid. Delightful additional touches, such as a lost schoolgirl in angel costume looking for her rehearsals, are the required leaven to otherwise occasionally lumpen confrontations. There are top-of-the-class performances from Alexandra Mathie, who plays the headmistress with great sympathy and gentle humour, and Clare Yuille in her professional debut as Sandy.
But the energy sags a little in the second half as Brodie is sidelined, leaving little doubt about the chief attraction of the show: Siobhan Redmond. She is in her prime.
· Until February 8. Box office: 0131-248 4848.
