They never sit still, Footsbarn - the France-based travelling players, who've been pitching their tent all over the world for the past 30 years. They like to take risks, and for a company which specialises in colour, magic, and beguiling imagery, Nikolai Gogol's comic satire on 19th-century Russian provincial life, The Government Inspector, is a surprising choice.

There's ample scope for farce in Gogol's depiction of a small town thrown into consternation by the news that its corrupt ways are to be scrutinised by an official from St Petersburg. When a flamboyant stranger is identified as "The Inspector", he is moved to the Mayor's house, lavished with hospitality - and every kind of bribe. Social and sexual ambitions, petty snobberies and insecurities are thrown into the mix, as the stranger sets out to seduce the Mayor's wife and daughter.

The Footsbarn ensemble takes a very broad, slapstick approach to all this, which is crude in every sense, with the emphasis on clownish gags, double entendres - "I have big balls, everybody comes" - and people taking swigs of wine and falling off tables. With the exception of the Mayor, who has presence and comic timing, the performances are weak and the lines indistinct. The Mayor's wife, clad in a pink dressing gown, is played in irritating high-pitched drag, and her scenes with "The Inspector" have a "Carry on up the Volga" flavour.

The initial plot exposition is tediously laboured, the scene changes unnecessarily protracted, and although the jaunty brass band playing is charming, it can't camouflage the general flatness. When huge puppets of local dignitaries appear at the end and the singing and dancing breaks out, there's relief all round: because Footsbarn are clearly more comfortable doing what they do best - and because it's finally all over.

Until October 15th at 8 p.m. Matinee on Sunday 8th at 3 p.m.

Dublin Theatre Festival Booking number: 01-6772600