Twankey hanky panky

Perhaps familiarity breeds discontent when it comes to Ian McKellen slipping into a spectacular lady's part: I refer to the frocks, smocks and jewellery flaunted by Sir Ian's Widow Twankey this Christmas and last in Aladdin.

In 2004 the shock appeal of Sir Ian's coming-out as a drag artist gave a big, hilarious lift to Bille Browne's less than scintillating pantomime.

This year, again all dolled-up in vulgar and lurid outfits, a riot of terminal bad taste in high heels and low jokes, clashing purples and oranges, McKellen's dame looked delightfully like scrag-end disguised as lamb.

Yet his lumpy, frumpy character, this flouncing and flirting cross between Thora Hird and a female impersonator in an up-north gay club, has lost much of its saucy verve and spoofing satire since 2004.

Except when he does a nice, Dietrich imitation McKellen's constant frock-change has become an end in itself. Roger Allam, by contrast, has turned funnier, revelling in his languidly camp and conspiratorial guise as a maestro of villainy.

John Napier's sets, from giant washing machine to silver-fronded cave, are remarkable for their childlike, naive quality and speed of tranformation, though a technical hitch halted Sean Mathias's jauntily camp production for several minutes on opening night.

The pantomime narrative, with an undertow of smutty jokes, topical allusions and regular audience involvement inspired by Neil McDermott's Aladdin, meanders far too long-windedly. Gareth Valentine's unalluring score and nine songs, which only inspire Wayne McGregor to sedate choreography, contribute little jollity.

The song, I Believe in You, composed by Elton John, sung by Aladdin and Kate Gillespie's curiously common, bored Princess, together with the mirthless Feng Yang ditty, cast no pantomime spell.

It is Hanky and Panky, Peking policemen, played by acrobatic masters of comic patter, Matthew Wolfenden and Andrew Spillett, who revive flagging spirits. Browne's script has been "remodelled", the story "clarified", with the roles of Frances Barber's oddly irrelevant Dim Sum and Paul Grunert's Emperor rewritten. Yet the show still has the air of a pantomime in need of extra stuffing.

Until 22 January. Information: 0870 060 6628.

Aladdin