The Bacchae

A blank stage with two curving walls, a low background growl of music and suddenly Alan Cumming's Dionysus is making one of the most fantastic entrances in theatre history.

From that moment John Tiffany's production never falters. Not until the final twenty minutes at least, and that is more to do with the nature of the play.

That's the point at which it asks us to stop enjoying ourselves and start weeping for the death of someone whose comeuppance we've all been waiting for. In spite of the sterling work of Paola Dionisotti as Agave and, in particular, Ewan Cooper as Cadmus, it's hard to feel their tragedy in the wake of what's gone before.

And what's gone before is truly astounding. You want a palace burning down? Just wait until you experience this one. You want a god whose appearance is said to burn your eyes out? This one nearly does. You want to see a Calvinist Scot in a dress, singing huskily into a microphone? Hang on, isn't this an ancient Greek play? Yes it is, and Tony Curran's uptight, male chauvinist, distinctly Scottish King of Thebes is brilliantly right for it.

Above all if you want to see the man born to play Dionysus and the best ever version of a Greek chorus, then look no further.

Chorus first. These Bacchae are charismatic gospel singers in blazing red dresses and they are hypnotising. Tim Sutton's music is exceptional and their singing and movements show it off to tremendous effect. Any chance of a CD?

But this is Alan Cumming's show. Dionysus knows he's a star turn and that's the way that Cumming quite properly plays him. Whenever he's on you can't take your eyes off him, and it's not just the gold dress. Camp, sly, witty, audience-involving, he's the epitome of the smooth talking con artist. It's just that he's a god, and taking gods for con artists can be very bad for your health.

Even with the slight let down of the closing passages this is still a tremendous, utterly theatrical and spectacular production. It's yet another (brightly coloured) feather in the National Theatre of Scotland's cap.