Weapons fire blanks

It's an old adage but one that holds good: be careful what you wish for, it may come true. Long have the laments rung out that theatre, arguably the most rapid-response art form, has neglected current affairs. As the title of this piece implies, writer/director Justin Butcher has done nothing of the sort, but two hours of lame satire and heavy-handed exposition may make even the most politically-minded audience member wish that he had.

Butcher, the man behind this year's The Madness Of George Dubya, follows it up with more of the same hit-and-largely-miss undergraduate-style revue. Instead of JB Priestley's affluent northern family, we face a line-up of the usual suspects - Tony and Cherie, the Bushes, Vice President Arnie - gathered to celebrate Dubya's imminent re-election. Yet a man recently returned from Iraq plans to spoil the party.

That the war wasn't entirely/really/in any way justified is a given, and Butcher has nothing startlingly new to add. He's at his most successful when unleashing his talented cast, including Alasdair Craig's spot-on Blair, on the incongruous song and dance numbers, or picking up on verbal idiosyncrasies: "Do not mis-underestimate me," warns Bush. Even so, it's not enough to make us count the days until the planned third part of the trilogy, Escape From Guacamole Bay.

A Weapons Inspector Calls