Carl Zuckmayer's The Captain of Koepenick is one of those texts which many of us who learnt German in the late-20th century associate with the pen-chewing chore of set texts. Zuckmayer's 1931 play is a thoroughly Swiss take on the Prussia of a quarter-century before, brimful of the evils of militarism and foolishness of the Kaiserreich  paving the way to the First World War.  

Making it more than a didactic schools matinée is always a challenge and the National's  production at the Lyttelton with Adrian Noble directing throws revolving stage, Cubist set and many other enlivening devices at the enterprise without taking us a goose-step nearer to the era it is trying to capture.

Antony Sher as Voigt is an engaging vagrant, exposing the cruel idiocies of an authoritarian system. Anthony O'Donnell  proves an adept foil as the bog-standard mayor trying to fit into the borrowed robes of the Prussian military. Sher's finest moment is the move from wheedling petitioner to blustering commander: he shifts verbal gear, accent and class in a single Captain Mainwaring harrumph.

Alas, the production can't cope with the play's structural weakness: the exposition of the first half drags on for aeons before Voigt becomes entertainingly naughty by buying a fancy-dress uniform and dragooning a brigade to commandeer the town hall to prise his precious papers from officialdom.  

Though we feel the desperation and anger, we don't get the slightest idea of why Prussian militarism is so seductive and powerful as to enthrall the population and Ron Hutchinson's breezy adaptation struggles with some of the more plodding comedy. Sending up the period of pointed headgear and marching bands is easy, making sense of it a lot harder. This Captain of Koepenick is a romp, but not a revelation.