THE Danny Boyle film is seven years old. Time enough has passed, the Theatre Royal reckoned, for the play that preceded the wittily subversive movie to rise again.

How have times changed from Irvine Welsh's depiction of the highs and lows of self-destructive junkie life in Leith, Edinburgh, a decade ago? Watching the humiliation of an England cricketer eating insects to secure a decent meal on celebrity reality TV now passes for mass entertainment - and the language has been pretty tasty too.

So is the sight of shooting up, the talk of messing sheets and the sound of a thousand 'f' and 'c' words so pass, so yesterday's freak show? At Saturday's show, watching the first needle inject its "life giving, life-taking elixir" was enough to cause one young woman to faint: a reminder of the power of theatre in the compact Studio.

Intimacy of setting and immediacy of contact mean that you are drawn into the moment by Duncan Marwick's skeletal Mark Renton, Derek McGhie's hyper Tommy and withered Sick Boy, Paul Cowie's psychotic Franco and Jo Freer's child-losing Alison. Stuff pass, Trainspotting is still a jolt, even if like Britpop and the Young British Artists, its initial buzz has faded.

The marketing campaign for Tim Welton's production had talked of "getting ready for the rush". That may suggest a vicarious pleasure to compare with watching sport, but while there is indeed an adrenaline rush in the company of Mark and co and their alternative cooking show, pleasure is off the menu when watching Welsh's anti-social comedy drama. The humour is as jagged as broken glass.

On a Laura McEwan hollowed set that rolls run-down flats, streets and city centre into one wooden framework, Welton's all-Scottish cast climb aboard Harry Gibson's speeding train of a stage adaptation and ride it like the wind.

The watching experience is akin to observing one of those unsentimental ancient Greek or Jacobean dramas, the production rooted in storytelling with each character moving in and out of the spotlight (in contrast to the film where Ewan McGregor's Renton was the sole narrator). On occasion, they engage in direct eye contact with members of the audience, turning up the heat still more in their intensive stare unit.

Jo Freer looks a little too healthy, Renton's oft-quoted Choose Life speech passes almost unnoticed, and you may occasionally struggle to decipher the accents, but Trainspotting's tales of heroin and anti-heroes hold you in their grip.

Box office: 01904 623568

Updated: 10:15 Wednesday, May 14, 2003