The Steamie

Written in the eighties, and set in the fifties, Tony Roper's accidental classic The Steamie will doubtless be drawing crowds of a certain vintage on its tour across the Scotland.

However, what's startling about the wash-house comedy, initially rejected by so many theatres on the grounds that “nothing happens”, is how its central sadness about community breakdown has become ever more bittersweet in the past two decades.

Doreen, by some distance the youngest of the play's four female characters, sees a washing machine, a refrigerator and perhaps even a television in her future. But perhaps even Doreen – whose youthful optimism so sadly centres around moving to a wonderful new place called Drumchapel – would be stumped by the further additions of a microwave, a laptop and a broadband connection.

She'd certainly be confused to learn that the “leisure time” she dreamed about would be eaten up by a new set of obligations, and that in the 21st century a woman of her age would likely not even know the names of her elderly neighbours, let alone be pals with them. The put-upon Mrs Culfeathers serves as a warning of what the future might bring – while Roper will have perceived a shift away from offspring looking after their elderly parents, he could scarcely have predicted that in 2009 the pension age for women would be on course to hit 68 by the 2050s.

Of course, all this makes The Steamie sound likely a remarkably prescient social study, when in fact it is a beautifully observed comedy (with songs by David Anderson added later) that is best remembered for a lengthy exchange about mince and tatties. Kay Gallie is absolutely tremendous as Mrs Culfeathers – on the first matinee she had already earned two spontaneous rounds of applause for her impeccable punchline delivery by the time she'd got onto the subject of Galloways butchers.

The rest of the casting is similarly strong – one imagines that director Alison Peebles, also an actress herself, didn't have to think twice about Julie Austin for Magrit or Maureen Carr for Dolly, while Jacqueline Hughes and David McGowan are also fine in the roles of youngsters Doreen and Andy.

The cast have been chosen for their acting rather than their singing talents – there are some botched harmonies and solos that don't quite hit the mark – but stage-school perfection isn't really what The Steamie is all about. The joyful energy of ensemble number Pals and the heartfelt simplicity of Anderson's closing song more than compensate.