STAGE and screen have always enjoyed a symbiotic relationship. Whereas in earlier years films have largely relied on theatrical origins, more and more successful films are now being adapted as stage musicals. The latest of these is the 1977 film Saturday Night Fever with its successful pounding disco score by the Bee Gees.

Advance bookings, I understand, have already covered production costs so the future of the show at

the London Palladium

looks assured.

No wonder - you get a lot of show for your money. Banishing memories of John Travolta (no mean feat in itself) Adam Garcia scores as Tony, our dancing hero backed up by a magnificent troop of dancers in the glittering, precise choreography by Arlene Phillips who directs with brilliance and verve.

The costumes look horrifyingly right for the period (remember cheesecloth?) and Robin Wagner has come up with some impressive sets that conjure up New York and Brooklyn of the late 1970s. The plot is as light as thistledown, but that counts for very little; when the evening shows the slightest hint of flagging along

comes another intense, erotic, show-stopping

dance number.

There are fine performances from Anita Louise Coombe as Tony's dance partner Stephanie, and Simon Greiff is touching as a confused youngster soon to be an unwilling father.

Richard Calkin enjoys himself hugely as a camp serial womaniser, the dance club's DJ and MC. Even though the overture is staggeringly over-miked (no-one sleeps in this show) soon the evening settles down to more realistic sound levels.

Saturday Night is a considerable achievement and, moreover, an utterly irresistible one.