Well, it is certainly different - as different as a Bollywood movie is from a Hollywood one, or kulfi is from ice cream. Set in India, this is an all-singing, all-dancing account of love between a Hindu girl and a Muslim boy, political corruption, sexual exploitation in the film industry and how everybody is really all one big happy family. It is full of stereotypes, from the penis-fixated film director to the domineering mother, and its performance style clearly owes much to Indian movie culture - and an awful lot to Top of the Pops circa 1975.
If you wandered across this in a broom cupboard off the High Street, you might be oddly charmed. On the Traverse stage it looks cruelly exposed, not just in terms of dramaturgy but also production values. It is never clear whether the whole thing is supposed to be pastiche or deadly serious, whether it is childlike or merely childish.
· Until August 11. Box office: 0131-228 1404.
