The King's Head, its appealing individuality and scope diminished since Dan Crawford's death, adds to London's inflated stock of musicals with this heavy-labour, tune-free, off-Broadway farcical comedy.

None of its songs linger in ear or mind. The show's creators, Jimmy Roberts (music) and Joe Di Pietro (book and silly lyrics), have, though, dreamed up an interestingly ridiculous scenario.

Tom, an adultery-prone advertising director in suit and tie, discovers the faithlessness of his wife, Lucy, (the glycerine, artificial Nicola Dawn).

In retaliation he intrigues his way into becoming the flat-mate of her impoverished artist-lover, Sebastian - cute and sporty in jeans and open-shirt.

Jealousy, fury and homoerotic male-bonding follow predictably on. Unfunny panic breaks out when Lucy visits.

Tom conceives the psychologically astute idea of tempting Sebastian with job security and helps to transform him into an advertising executive. He thereby ensures Lucy loses interest in this freshly suited replica of her husband.

Unfortunately the stratagem never becomes the musical's driving force.

The first-night audience revelled in the caricature and infantile, farcical comedy of Anthony Drewe's production to which Philip Witcomb's compressed and witty designs come as a useful antidote.

Hal Fowler's Tom performs grossly, as if in capital letters and italics. Watching him is like viewing life through an over-magnifying glass.

Impressive Tim Rogers cut a cool, convincing figure as bohemian Sebastian, even if he forgot to remove his wedding ring in the first half!

• Until 3 June (020 7226 1916).

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