To open Dario Fo's famous farce about why economic power will always trump political power in a capitalist system in the week that Silvio Berlusconi is re-elected as Prime Minister of Italy is the sort of coincidence that has satirists weeping into their beer.

As it happens, the Royal Lyceum has not been able to take advantage of the coincidence as it has already gone to some trouble to update and relocate the setting of this production. Instead of Milan, we are in Edinburgh in the very near future; David Cameron is in No 10, Barack Obama is in the White House. The kidnapped industrialist at the centre of the drama, (Gianni Agnelli, the head of Fiat, in the original) has become Sir John Lamb, a leading Scottish industrialist, and the trade unionist with whom he is confused is one Tony Brodie.

It is stretching a point to have a major car-manufacturing plant on the outskirts of Edinburgh but this is a farce, not a documentary. And anyway plenty of smaller localised jokes have been interpolated which hit the spot. A line about the chaos caused by the Edinburgh tram-building programme got a particular rumble of approval.

Tony Cownie's direction injecting some high-octane invention into the chaos. The slapstick around the bandaged body of Sir John at the beginning is just what is required. He has a strong cast to help, chief among them being Jimmy Chisholm, in his element in the double role of Tony and Sir John.

From his first entry, from the stalls, stopping the action to address the audience directly, he is completely at ease. As Sir John, coming round from the plastic surgery which has made him look like Brodie, his physicality is astoundingly bold as he stumbles, jerks around and mangles his language.

He seems to encourages the rest of the cast to similar heights. Kath Howden as his blousy wife reminds us what a fine comedienne she is; Keith Fleming as the police chief has a maniacal energy. Sensitive souls might flinch at Steven McNicoll's Mengele-style surgeon but he just about gets away with it.

Collectively, they do not quite manage to overcome the weakness of Fo's third act, when the plot starts to peter out and the furniture starts to move around. And if you wanted to pick holes, you could argue that Fo's political message is a bit lost in the fun. But if it's fun you want, there's plenty.

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