The child assessors, aged six and nine, enjoyed this elaborately staged reading of Roddy Doyle's book. After all, it starred the author, was full of sweet, knowing humour, was noisily media-savvy and was intellectually engaged with the world of farts, wees and poohs. The accompanying grown-up also had reasons to be cheerful - all of the above, plus Rudolph the reindeer wearing Bruce Springsteen's bandana, an African character named after the Nigerian full back from Doyle's beloved Chelsea and a general tendency towards Pythonesque playfulness and absurdity.

So what was that strange smell seeping through the Ark? Was it just an unfamiliar whiff of pop culture? Probably. Or did this project carry the stronger stench of celebrity vanity, with a top-notch team assembled to give us all a good sniff of Doyle's literary farts, wees and poohs?

For this was no ordinary staged reading. It was a week-long "world premiere", no less, directed by the Ark's new boss, Eric Fraad, on a really nice set by Robert Ballagh. There were also musicians, a second reader we never saw and video interruptions from star footballers, Gary Cooke of AprΦs Match and, mainly, Doyle.

It might seem odd to complain about the professionalism of this "reading", but it's much ado about near-nothing. Rover Saves Christmas is a vaguely pleasant throwaway - surely Doyle spent more time last week reading it than he ever spent writing it.

While there is much that is attractive about his deadpan stage persona, and about the recent body of work, Rover included, that shows such affectionate inclusion of immigrants in Dublin (and of children in a serious writer's audience), Doyle can't dispel the "why?" that hangs over this show - except, perhaps, with that half-smile of self-indulgence.