No, this isn't a play about a band, and its character H isn't a comment on the demise of twinkle-toed poppers Steps. Instead, he's an opportunistic professional criminal, a Mancunian deal-maker with the gift of the gab. But, part-comedy, part-thriller, On Tour is as generically confused as this wannabe gangster.

H and Daz meet in a European prison cell, both casually protesting their innocence against charges of football hooliganism. But in humorous dialogue, H quite freely admits to other crimes that sponge off hooligan culture - drug smuggling and counterfeit money. The first scene sets up the politics of the play, but at times its characters feel like mouthpieces for Gregory Burke's political critique. The so-far timid Daz suddenly explodes in a vehement outburst against war, which also exposes his xenophobia. He proudly declares that he 'loves fighting', but, having recently served in the Royal Navy, is terrified of being sent to Iraq. And though H doesn't appear the brightest bulb in the chandelier, he reveals sharp and self-conscious observations about imperial exploitation. Young, working class men are expelled from society - fighting wars abroad - to maintain social stability at home; but abroad, Britons thrive by dividing and conquering, to exploit 'the other'.

On Tour comments on our country's enduring and self-sustaining cultural position of exploitation. The ramifications of Imperial Britain and its patriarchal structure still resonate - the Empire continues to spawn angry young men. Daz, H and Ray are all unashamed criminals, with fragile loyalties towards each other; they mask their identities in self-defence, but become 'fucked in the end because of other people'. The national model of power-over serves as a process for individual relationships and identification - self is defined through oppression of other. But Burke fudges his politics by attempting to thrill his audiences with the theatrical equivalent of a Guy Ritchie film.

In the second scene, recently released H and Daz are joined by the more seasoned drug-smuggler Ray, a partner of H's, who desperately needs to disappear and escape from his corrupt business in the UK. Ray needs H for a fake passport; H needs Daz to fight off trouble; and Daz needs both of them so he can rip them off. The shifts in power are carefully played out. H and Ray had planned to exploit Daz as a naive underdog, but wielding 20 kilos of Charlie, Ray's fake passport and H's gun, Daz finally turns the tables on his exploiters. After an attention-seeking amount of coke-snorting, On Tour's sharper second half becomes increasingly violent, but, despite the set's edgy design, it lacks the chic fierceness I suspect Burke and director Matt Wilde were aiming for.

The over-long opening scene is packed with dialogue and deprived of dramatic intrigue, lending little climactic development towards the pseudo-thriller ending. Structurally, the play's journey only really begins with the arrival of Ray, who generates the dramatic intensity and conflict. With commanding stage presence, Andrew Schofield's steely but vulnerable Ray launches energy into the production - but too late. Schofield's character is also the most intriguing because he uncovers a weakness; forever distanced from the guarded Daz and H, we lose interest in them.

Neither funny nor gripping enough for its blows to bear impact, On Tour is subject matter in search of a play.

Rhona Foulis
Culture Wars - 18th October 2005