Edward cuts a dash

After years of planning and months of rehearsals, Matthew Bourne has at long last realised his dream of bringing Edward Scissorhands to the stage. How he persuaded Tim Burton to part with his much-loved gothic fairytale film is anybody's guess, but Bourne has, and his version of Scissorhands is now set for a superlong run at Sadler's Wells.

If you've seen the film, you'll know it's a sly, sneaky take on the old Beauty-and-Beast story, or rather a Beast-and-Beautician story, as the woman who rescues Edward from his gloomy mansion is Avon Lady Peg. She takes him home where he falls for her daughter Kim, although her kiss cannot transform him from monster to man. So Edward is stuck with his scissors, harming what he loves most, and hounded by the townsfolk like a Hunchback or King Kong.

Burton, oh clever man, smuggled all this melancholy into his Day-glo fairytale, which is also a hilarious suburban satire with more lipstick, powder and polish than Avon ever thought possible.

The question is how well Bourne captures these themes, and whether he has matched Burton's celluloid charm with theatrical magic of his own. In fact, when it comes to magic, Bourne is second to none. The man who gave us the all-male Swan Lake can tell stories and convey character, he can create mood and pace, humour and wit, and he can roll them all up in a very appealing set of dances.

In Scissorhands, he has also found ingenious ways around theatre's flesh-and-blood constraints. For example, in the film Edward is an ace topiarist, which would be tricky to show on stage. Instead, Bourne gives us dancing topiary, a sort of privet ballet, with 12 twirling, leafy dancers that express Edward's love and Kim's wonder. It's a great moment, and designer Lez Brotherston deserves a knighthood for the costumes alone.

What Bourne does less well is Burton's inky undertow. Bourne's Scissorhands is a lark, with few of the film's shadows and little of its tension. Part of the reason is that Bourne leaves out key scenes: there's no attempted robbery, Peg isn't an Avon Lady, and the Christmas party is a raving knees-up rather than the flop it is in the film. Bourne also misses Edward's innocence and sheer sense of bafflement, although the opening night dancer may be the reason.

Admittedly, Sam Archer was competing with our memories of the iconic Johnny Depp, but his performance lacked a sense of sorrow, and his movement conveyed little of the physical pain the sewntogether Edward must feel.

Better was Kerry Biggin's tomboy-ish Kim, even if her boyfriend Jim (James Leece) missed the mean streak that rocks the film's pretty boat. All the cast performed with gusto, as did the orchestra, especially when playing Danny Elfman's original film melodies.

Edward Scissorhands is a boy who needs our help but whom we turn away. He's the perfect subject for a Christmas show, yet Bourne gives us more show and less Christmas.

Until 5 February. Information 0870 737 7737.

New Adventures: Edward Scissorhands