A tale of two halves, finally, from the Marlowe Theatre in Canterbury, which reopened a year ago. The old Marlowe was a pit of such ghastly grubbiness that it thoroughly deserved demolition. A splendid new structure has arisen on the same site, with the support of East Kent's more prosperous burghers, commemorated on a board of donors. It is strange indeed that just as the government flounders in a philanthropy tax-trap of its own making, arts institutions are so grateful for dosh that donors are getting the recognition once accorded only to local saints (which, in a way, they are).

Yet something strikes me as missing at the Marlowe and I have just realised what it is: more good drama. This is, after all, a    theatre bearing a name that invites the best of English theatre. So far, poor old Chris has hardly got a look-in among the comedian nights, Legally Blonde touring productions and Elkie Brooks concerts.

Regional theatres do need to offer a range of things to very different audiences. That necessitates a mix which won't please everyone, all of the time. But look through the programme of the Marlowe over the summer and it is a bit depressing, frankly. 

It does not have to be like this — the brilliant all-male Propeller company's recent Henry V was enthralling and drew in solid audiences. Never have there been so many really good small theatre groups doing the rounds for directors to choose from for short runs. The odd diamond beckons, like Cape Town Opera's Porgy and Bess, but a lack of ambition attends the Marlowe so far. In a prosperous university city, graced with a spanking new stage, there's no excuse for that.