High School Musical (Hammersmith Apollo)

The only surprising thing about Disney's High School Musical is that a company so jealous of its shiny reputation should have anything to do with the Hammersmith Apollo.

The carpets are sticky, covered in gum, pockmarks and worse. Ugly wires have been slung along the side walls of the stalls (£65 a premium ticket, thank you).

The gents' lavatory is not only dilapidated, but its cattle market odour permeates the outer corridor of Robert Cromie's neglected Art Deco picturehouse. 

High school fun: Cheerleaders for tweenage theatregoers

As for the sound system, you wonder if they have bothered to fine-tune it since The Beatles played here. 

Do Disney's senior executives realise quite what a stinking dump they have chosen for the ten-week London run of the latest 'tweenage' craze musical?

The Apollo is a contrasting reminder of how much sterling work the likes of Cameron Mackintosh, Andrew Lloyd Webber and Nica Burns have done in keeping West End theatres habitable.

The Apollo's grottiness is at odds with the toothpastey sheen of the fare on stage. High School Musical is a Grease for today's school children  -  but without the good songs or originality.

It is a tale of young love in an American school, the captain of the boys' basketball team falling for a pretty new girl who is good at 'math'. Mark Evans and Claire-Marie Hall are sweet enough as the lovebirds, and Letitia Dean from EastEnders has fun as drama teacher Ms Darbus.

Some of the choreography is inventive, and after an incomprehensible opening (that sound system, plus rampant Americanisms) the show does achieve some sort of cruising altitude.

The ending is hilariously positive. Brute father in reconciliation scene with sensitive son: 'You can be anyone you want. OK son?' Son: 'OK, Dad.' Hug. Swelling chords. Etc.

Synthetic, overpriced nonsense? Yes. But ten-year-old girls will quite enjoy it, provided you are prepared to expose them to those disgusting carpets.

Verdict: Now wash your hands please

*****