Come dancing, Theatre Royal, Stratford East, London

Ray Davies's singles would add up to a passable evening of narrative theatre, filled as they are with fabulous characters and tales of London past. So when you hear that he's written a musical, you might think it'll feature a transvestite named Lola.

But Come Dancing contains just three Kinks songs. The rest are original numbers by Davies, who has given himself a leading role as the show's narrator.

Come Dancing, a semi-autobiographical piece, is set in 1950s east London. Davies recounts his fictional family's Saturday night adventures at the Ilford Palais. The story centres on the youngest of his three sisters, Julie, a pretty former polio-sufferer who, as the show opens, is celebrating her 18th birthday with her first visit to the dance hall with her parents and older sisters.

Director Kerry Michael's staging is rarely imaginative, but there are wonderfully judged central performances from Gemma Salter (a delightful but defiant Julie) and Alasdair Harvey as "Uncle" Frankie, pitched between suave and seedy. The Palais is Frankie's place, but his Saturday celebrity bookings – who, mysteriously, never materialise – turn out to be the least of his deceits. Davies plays a version of himself, outside the action. Despite some awkwardness, his charisma carries him through.

There are moments in Act I when you yearn for a chorus of "Waterloo Sunset", such is the scarcity of truly toe-tapping numbers. Instead, we are introduced to Hamilton (Delroy Atkinson), a young Jamaican saxophonist to whom Julie takes a shine – to the dismay of everyone, particularly her knife-wielding suitor Tosher (Marcus Ellard).

The simmering racism is typical of Davies's skill as a social observer. His drama takes place in a period of great change. Frankie, an easy-listening singer, has to confront the forces of progress that will eventually lead to bands like The Kinks. The first act closes with a musical – and physical – clash of the generations. Meanwhile, Julie's sister Rose and her fiancé are planning to move to Stevenage: "It's one of them new towns!" Their plans produce the funniest number of the night, with its hopeful evocations of a new home, with all mod cons and a swimming pool.

Act II produces more compelling action and better tunes. The elegiac coda is the most touching moment; Davies dedicates Come Dancing – song and show – to the memory of his real sister.

To 25 October (020-8534 0310)