ONE FOR THE ROAD

Bristol Old Vic

She was in her seventies - the sort of jolly grey-haired old lady you might find in a National Trust tea room knitting yet another cardigan for her beloved grandson. She had come to the theatre to see a gentle comedy starring that nice Gary Wilmot, and it was easy to assume that to her, 'daring' meant sneaking a few raspberries into her home-made strawberry jam. Then someone on stage said "fuck" - and she started to laugh. As the expletives and dark secrets of suburban sexuality flooded across the footlights, she laughed so hard that she threatened to bounce right out of her seat. The older generation often fail to live up to their stereotypes. And Willy Russell's One for the Road is clearly a very funny play.

Its hero is Dennis (Gary Wilmot), a precursor to Russell's Shirley Valentine who doesn't even have a friendly Wall to whom he can pour out his problems. Stuck in the grim suburbia of William Tell Avenue, he is sinking into the quagmire of middle age and compromise as he settles down to celebrate his 40^th birthday. His wife Pauline (Prue Clarke) is a young Hyacinth Bucket, all polysyllables and 'executive' lifestyle, and his friends Roger (William Ely) and Jane (Amanda Harris) have become the Joneses with whom one keeps up. Yet deep in his heart, Denis still longs to hit the motorway of life with only his rucksack and his trusty hitchhiking thumb for company. Or in his words, "I'm a wild beast, not a cat who's had his bollocks trimmed". Over the course of the evening, the fragile middle class façade cracks, unleashing a boiling torrent of suburban angst and dark secretes that lurk behind the neatly-arranged net curtains. If it weren't for its lack of cleverness, a blind tasting would suggest Ayckbourn rather than Russell as the author.

This is a Nineties revival of an Eighties West End hit based on a Seventies television play, and the efforts to update are, at times, as patchy as a do-it-yourself dye-job. It's roots are certainly showing. Short of rewriting the whole play, it is hard to lift it out of an essentially 70s vision of suburbia, where those in their late thirties still pride themselves on their garden gnomes and cottage pie is dressed up as Hachis Parmentier. Self-respecting suburbanites in the Nineties keep up appearances by comparing paint effects and conjuring up something with a hint of Thai from the latest TV chef's best-seller. But rather than play it as a period piece, director Andy Hay and author Russell have stuck in a few references to Carol Vorderman and stakeholders to create a passable illusion of contemporaneity.

Despite his reputation as Mr Musicals, Gary Wilmot shows that there is more to him than the smiling song-and-dance man. Aided by the fact that he has many of the best lines, he delivers them with excellent comic timing and a nice tendency to underplay. His fellow-actors, whilst providing solid support, are disappointing insofar as - on the evidence of other productions - they are all capable of far better performances. No-one seems to have told them when to take their foot off the accelerator, which - taken together with the underdeveloped and messily staged farcical set-pieces - suggests a certain lack of directorial guidance.

Nevertheless, One for the Road is still a much better dollop of entertainment than many theatregoers get (or expect). It's fast, funny, and a mildly nostalgic antidote to pre-millennium tension. But remember: if you're taking an elderly person with a broad sense of humour, consider strapping them into a safety harness before the house lights go down. Otherwise they might just bounce off down the aisle.

Toby O'Connor Morse

Runs until 23 October (Box office 0117 987 7877) and then on tour in November to Belgrade Theatre Coventry, Richmond Theatre, Churchill Theatre Bromley and Theatre Royal Brighton.