The Cherry Orchard

The new version by John Byrne goes with Mr Chekhov not his Mrs: it's a laugh riot from start to finish and the crowd could almost have been bussed in from Frankie Boyle's new DVD taping were it not for the glamorous get-ups and jewellery on display.

Relocated to the Highlands in 1979, it takes in both the eve and the aftermath of Maggie Thatcher's historic election victory thus keeping the Chekhovian theme of changing times for the landed gentry, only this time it's neds to spivs and lairds to normal folk. The family concerned are the Ramsey-Mackays, former toffs on their uppers, forced to sell their Higland pile and the garden which gives the play its name.

Needless to say they aren't taking it well and there's much fish-out-of-water fun to be had at their expense: Uncle Guy practices his abysmal golf swing under the rolling eyes of his family lawyer (wide boy Malcolm McCracken) and faithful old retainer Fintry is a doddering mumbler whose brougue is so thick even the family who employ him can't make out a word. The commoners don't come off much better and the production is given a laugh-lift every time Grant O'Rourke appears as self-improver Sorley Shanks who can't move without causing some calamity.

As the play progresses the balance of power shifts and the humour is leavened with Byrne's trademark social commentary, replacing the character of the philosophising eternal student from the original with a socialist shouter called (ahem) Trotsky who acts as as kind of Commie Greek chorus (much more effective than it sounds). Special mention goes to Maureen Beattie as the matriarch, who gives emotional heft and acts as a counterbalance to the equally blinding Philip Bird as Uncle Guy and the aforementioned O'Rourke, who both come close to stealing the show and get the lion's share of the howls from the crowd.

A minor gripe is that the set will put you in mind of the shortbread-tin image of tartan and tammies that Scottish tourism has been trying to outrun for the past few decades; it works in context but jars the eyes nonetheless. Aside from that, a cracking night out, lively, thought-provoking and at the risk of sounding repetitive, bleedin hilarious.