First Night: Live from Golgotha, The Drill Hall, London

Madder and nastier than anything Vidal purports to satirise

Gore Vidal has won a considerable literary reputation by writing many brilliant essays, but these are not what have given him his popularity.

For that, Vidal goes on talk-shows and writes novels that, in the past few decades, have been either ponderous historical fiction or incoherent crap.

Live from Golgotha, his 1992 novel adapted for the stage and directed by Malcolm Sutherland, belongs to the latter category.

These novels appeal to the large American readership who like to think themselves "irreverent'', who believe that one qualifies as wickedly sophisticated if one mocks religion or speaks frankly about sex. Perhaps, in their part of America, one does.

Both aims are served in the play's description of St Timothy as having "the largest dick in our part of Asia minor".

A less amusing characteristic of the American upper class is its anti-Semitism, which Vidal has never renounced. The charm quotient is low here, however, with a skullcap-wearing Jew who is gleeful at the thought of Baghdad and Damascus in flames and a St Paul who says he has good news "not just for the Jews, but all of youse".

Golgotha shows us an elderly Bishop Timothy visited by a television executive from the 21st century.

The broadcasting companies, he is told, are now able to transport technicians back to historical events, and the network wants to film the biggest one of all: will the bishop agree to be anchorman at the crucifixion?

In addition, a computer hacker has introduced a virus to the gospels, which may disappear. Will the bishop write his own version and leave it in a safe place for officials of the future to discover?

A pretty young man plays the youthful Timothy. Then there's his wife, who, when told about her husband's relationship with Paul, says: "I hope the church isn't going to make a habit of preying on young men in their care.''

The actors in this smirk as if they think as highly of it as Vidal does, with the exception of David De Keyser as Bishop Timothy, a welcome presence of gentleness and civility in this play that is far madder and nastier than anything it purports to be satirising.