Tamburlaine Must Die

Given Kenny Miller's reputation for accessible and spectacular work at the Citizens, and Louise Welsh's brutally poetic novel, Tamburlaine Must Die is an astonishingly poor play. Based on the mysterious death of poet Christopher Marlowe during the reign of Elizabeth I, Tamburlaine has been adapted for the stage as more recital than performance - despite an impressive set and at least three actors sharing the role of Marlowe, each scene seems a mere illustration of the hero's monologue. Apart from some irrelevant and distracting nudity, this production only directs the audience back to the novel's scintillating descriptions of a plague and paranoia ridden London.

With only shaggings, stabbings and executions actually performed, the actors are required to do little beyond swagger around the stage and recite. Characterisation is told, not shown, and breasts and balls are exposed at regular intervals, although the sex scenes are generally enacted fully clothed. The intrigue surrounding the plot - someone has set Marlowe up as a revolutionary heretic - evaporates in a series of pedestrian encounters, interspersed with Marlowe's anti-theological and political musings. The teeming life of the Elizabethan underworld is rendered as static posturing, with the set working harder to establish the atmosphere than any of the actors.

Tamburlaine Must Die feels lazy from conception through to execution: as if it had been decided that the source material was so strong, it needed little embellishment, or that the audience would be happy with sops of controversy. And while both the Tron and the Citizens have used Scottish voices to make Shakespeare and other classics more approachable, the thick, bellowing accent of one Marlowe turned the sixteenth century into an episode of River City. After the Edinburgh Festival success of Alan Bennett's Talking Heads, it is disappointing that Glasgay!'s latest commission is such an insipid and staid interpretation.