It seems bizarre that Jean Anouilh's biliously funny play has had to wait since 1974 for a major revival. As Ranjit Bolt's brilliant new translation confirms, it combines the acidity of Strindberg with the ingenuity of Feydeau. Maybe the problem lies in the casting of the central role, in which Peter Bowles here gives a stylish but not wholly persuasive performance.
He plays General St Pe: a retired soldier shackled to a bedridden wife and constantly dreaming, in 1910, of past military and sexual conquests. Into his life steps a woman who has faithfully adored him for 17 years but, presented with the chance of flight, he funks it. You understand why in one magnificent scene, strongly reminiscent of The Dance of Death, in which you see that the general and his wife are locked together in a love-hate relationship.
Bowles certainly brings out the hero's mixture of weakness and rancour: viewing his bleakly unmarriageable daughters, he bitterly reflects, "I produced a pair of retarded Gorgons." But there is a Falstaffian element to this paunchy, 57-year-old lecher that largely goes missing in this performance. Bowles is an actor of trim-figured poise and grace far better at capturing the general's vanity than his venery.
But Angus Jackson's production yields strong supporting performances. Maggie Steed's wife rises from her bed like the diva she once was, crying,"You dare accuse me of eating!" Nicholas Woodeson is also fastidiously funny as the wife's over-attentive doctor, and Catherine Russell invests the general's lost lover with the right romantic fervour. You certainly come out feeling that it is a sign of our dedicated Francophobia that Anouilh's plays have been banished from the British stage for so long.
· Until August 4. Box office: 01243 781312.
