This month's big theme in Scotland's theatres is the shaky relationship between language and truth. And here in The Visit, a whole town uses linguistic camouflage to justify the barbarous murder of a pillar of the community.
Friedrich Dürrenmatt's play is a brilliant satire of corruption that viciously exposes the warped logic of self-justification. Tempted by the incredible wealth of Clarrie Zachanassian, a local girl made good, the townsfolk use all-too-credible reasoning to persuade themselves that her demand for a human sacrifice is morally acceptable.
Though written in 1956, you'd think the play was lampooning the doublespeak justifications of our own world in which politicians disguise the pursuit of profit as a "war on terror". The more decadent the debt-ridden town becomes, the more its language makes an unreasonable deed appear reasonable.
This is true even before Peter Arnott's funny colloquial adaptation which relocates the play to a modern airport lounge in a godforsaken Scottish backwater. The shift lets him make new jokes about social inclusion and the buzz words of local government, while the whiff of globalisation emphasises the economic pressures that bear down on the town.
Martin Danziger's production captures the drama's sombre aspects but underplays the comedy. As Clarrie, Ann Louise Ross is a forceful presence, lesbian leanings and all, but she reveals her bitter side too soon, lessening the surprise when she shows her true colours. There are plenty of laughs but the 12-strong ensemble is too subdued to be hilarious, despite an excellently hang-dog performance by Gerry Mulgrew as the persecuted Freddie, stoically accepting the greedy insanity around him.
· Until April 2. Box office: 01382 223 530.
