Theatre - George Bernard Shaw receives a witty, pretty make-over, writes Julian Clary You Never Can Tell Garrick Theatre, London WC2

You need a bit of gusto and confidence to "do" a George Bernard Shaw play, I've always thought. It could so easily go horribly wrong. "I suppose we won't be home in time for Crimewatch?" I said to my companion, wearily. Long and wordy, cerebral and self-satisfied were my general anticipations. But I was wrong. I was gripped by Peter Hall's new production of You Never Can Tell from the start. I settled back, as if in front of a roaring fire, and didn't want it to end. The hours flew by.

A cunning device is used whereby, the moment the lights come up, we hear a woman scream before we even register that she is in a dentist's chair having a tooth extracted by a handsome dentist. We, the audience, are jolted to atten-tion, like it or not. After that it's a kind of Upstairs, Downstairs affair, complete with a charismatic "lady", sexually repressed daughter and a sage, all-seeing butler.

But You Never Can Tell offers much more than that: fantastic spats of withering dialogue and intellectual swordplay that would have had me on the edge of my seat if I hadn't had a lap full of plain Belgian at the time.

Diana Quick, as the principled Mrs Clandon (or, as she calls herself, "an advanced woman"), is wonderfully concise and natural in her delivery. If there were an Olivier Award for Acting by a Body Part, her chest should surely be nominated: resolute and unmoved in the first act, by the third it heaves about like a badger under a bedspread, dramatising her anguish in the most innovative fashion.

Mrs Clandon arrives in an English seaside town in the 1890s with her three children. It is 18 years since she separated from their father, about whom she has divulged nothing, not even his name. Wouldn't you know it, but her ex is there too, and the lot of them are thrown together along with a handsome, if financially challenged, chap called Valentine.

Ryan Kiggell relishes this role, acting with such a lightness of touch that we believe him when he says: "The whole world is like a feather dancing in the light." As you can imagine, much hilarity ensues.

Valentine is soon embroiled with the eldest daughter, Gloria, haughtily played as a young Sue Lawley by Nancy Carroll, who maintains a heady mix of aloofness and barely concealed desire right up until the final triumph of lust over Victorian propriety, feelings over conscience and, ultimately, common humanity (or sex) over science and (if we're looking at the bigger picture) freedom over slavery.

These were the concerns of the thinking classes at the time. By sheer artistry - both Shaw's and the combined talents of Peter Hall and this wonderful cast - we are drawn into the debate.

The servile waiter (a perfectly measured and droll performance by Edward Fox) is a kind of geriatric Ariel/Volpone arrangement (with just a touch of Churchill), who deflates his superiors' attempts to control the future with their ideological beliefs by repeating the handy perennial: "You never can tell."

It is grown-up comedy with intelligent and pithy lines. The pompous, eminent QC Mr Bohun (Michael Mears) informs the family: "My speciality is being right when other people are wrong."

The dialogue is witty and frequently poetic, but engages us emotionally in a way Oscar Wilde, for instance, could never have contemplated. A product of its time maybe, but these are the Little Britain characters of their day, and they are just as recognisable and relevant.

You Never Can Tell makes a satisfying evening's entertainment. It is a beautifully crafted play, funny and moving, performed with effortless skill by an accomplished set of actors. Sinead Matthews is a joy as the disarmingly bold minx Dolly, and the rather wonderfully named Ken Bones brings great humanity to the part of her brutal, estranged father, Mr Crampton. When the time inevitably comes and a reckless producer stages a play (or musical) about Harold Shipman, he's my top tip for the title role. (While we're on the subject, I also nominate Dame Judi for the part of Primrose. Or, if she's not available, try Vanessa Feltz.) Even the usherettes at the elegant Garrick Theatre were charming, a credit to their drama schools.

I couldn't have had a better night out if I'd then dined at J Sheekey's and sat next to Jude and Sienna. Which, in fact, I did. My earlier predictions for a dreary evening were laughably off the mark. As Edward Fox's wise waiter tells us: "It's the unexpected that always happens, isn't it? You never can tell." Which made me think . . . Sienna couldn't keep her eyes off me tonight. I wonder . . . ?

Booking on 0870 890 1104 to 11 March 2006

Michael Portillo is away

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