This revival of Feelgood, written by Alistair Beaton in 2001 during Blair's first term in office, gives us a chance to assess how well the Evening Standard award-winning satire has aged, now we have six more years of news management and, above all, series like The Thick Of It to compare it to. On the face of it, the timing couldn't be better, as Blair's rein comes to an end and Gordon Brown steps, with alarming ease, into Number 10. However, on the strength of this production, I would have to say that it has not aged with grace.

The story follows the behind the scenes machinations of the Prime Minister's (referred to as "DL", or "Divine Light") crack scriptwriting squad on the eve of his party conference speech. Eddie (Rafe Beckley), DL's Machiavellian Press Secretary, is holed-up in an hotel room busily crafting his boss's hollow, soundbite-laden script with his wily colleague Paul (James McClaren), while anti-capitalist, pro-environment protesters hog the streets outside. However, their real mettle for news management is severely tested when it is revealed that a Cabinet minister, Lord and friend of the PM, George (Michael Gabe) has been growing Genetically Modified hops on his estate and they have found their way into the beer supply with disastrous results.

To be honest, I am not actually sure that I would have liked this play had I seen it the first time around. Pinning my colours to the mast, I do not particularly have a problem with GM foods. Nor do I like what appears to be Beaton's implied support for the anti-democratic behaviour of Liz (Antonia Windsor) whose twenty-something left-wing political activism has morphed into middle-aged campaigning journalism – she agrees to bury a story in return for DL's repealing of some legislation she doesn't care for. The protestors outside the hotel are an offstage army who, rather than being a force for potential change, are, in the writer's eyes, nothing but a destructive mob.

However, it is not essential to align oneself politically with a writer if he has something important to say and a great way of saying it. Unfortunately, while there is still some relevance to the figures Beaton wishes to attack, most would now acknowledge that Blair is not simply a product of good PR, and that he is an instrument of his own will, not simply the good-looking mouthpiece of an all-too-visible press secretary. This misapprehension of the political process is not helped by a form which, while it might entertain the disgruntled Islington set, is composed of characters for whom we have no sympathy whatsoever.

Under George Maddocks's direction, what should be a pacy piece of outrageous farce sags and drags badly at times, as characters literally lounge around unenergetically reacting to important plot developments. Beaton's dialogue is often snappy and witty, but somehow this is lost in a lethargy which fails to bring to life the race to keep government-destroying stories off the early-evening news. Things improve somewhat in the second act, which rattles along, although still with a sense that not everyone on stage is sure what is at stake for them individually.

A week, as Harold Wilson said, is a long time in politics. Six years is even longer. You may find two-and-a-half hours is a little too long in the Rosemary Branch watching Feelgood.

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