Alan Bennett originally adapted Kenneth Grahame's classic for the National Theatre, but Ian Brown's delightful production feels less like a revival than a homecoming. Bennett's soul may be by the riverside, but his heart remains in Leeds.
Ratty, Badger, Mole and the rest speak Grahame's words, but with Bennett's inflections. Bennett's rodents address one another the same way as his monarchs: Mrs Rabbit calls her husband Mr Rabbit much as Queen Charlotte calls George III Mr King. Ratty and Badger are crusty establishment portraits you might find in Single Spies or Forty Years On. As for Mole - querulous, whimsical, slightly salt of the earth - it's virtually a self-portrait. Christopher Pizzey's sweet, subterranean mammal absorbs the life of the riverbank with the same bemused delight that Bennett might find in a Harrogate tea room.
Brown's production is a joy to look at. The undulating greenery of Dick Bird's set perhaps errs a little too close to Tellytubby Land but it provides an ingenious array of pastoral nooks and underground bolt-holes beloved of badgers, moles and former Iraqi dictators.
The verisimilitude of the actors' animalistic expressions is exemplary. I'm not sure how Dominic Green achieves his lugubrious horse mannerisms without dislocating his jaw. Ben Fox's Ratty remains perfectly in character despite almost swallowing his teeth. And Cameron Blakely's Badger conveys the gruff solitude of an elderly bachelor whose colleagues have all gone on to become shaving brushes.
There's something about the feckless mendacity of Malcolm Scates's Toad that irresistibly reminds me of Neil Hamilton. But he poops and postures admirably, dominating whole sections of the show without actually stealing it. Add to this a sweet choir of carol-singing mice and you have the perfect Christmas show the entire pet shop can enjoy.
· Until February 14. Box office: 0113-213 7700.
