Rome (BBC2)

THERE'S a saying that "when in Rome do as the Romans do". This isn't advice I suggest you follow after watching the start of the expensive HBO/BBC sword-and-sandals saga.

This blend of Gladiator, I Claudius and Carry On Cleo revels in sex, violence, nudity and silly names.

I find it hard to take Geordie actor Ray Stevenson seriously when he's playing someone called Titus Pullo, or Tight Pullover as I like to call him.

And Mark Antony's greeting to his friend of "Brutus, me old cock" indicates that the makers of this toga soap have opted to give the dusty old historical drama a kick up the 21st century.

The opening instalment certainly contains all the elements you'd expect from one of HBO's series such as The Sopranos, Six Feet Under and Deadwood. This is the sort of drama where the actors will be as likely to be judged on their (often bared, often thrusting) buttocks as on their ability to display emotions.

The opening narration helpful informs us that Rome rules many nations but cannot rule itself. So be prepared for much unruly behaviour. So far Ciaran Hinds' Julius Caesar is good at making war but not love. That's yet to come and then we'll be able to say that he came, he saw, he bonked her.

Everyone else is at it, why should JC be left out? Mind you, it can cause marital strife. Kevin McKidd's Lucius Vorenus returns home from the wars after eight years to be greeted by a visibly shocked wife. As she's holding a new-born baby, she has some explaining to do. "What child is that?," asks unlucky Lucius. Well not his, that's for sure.

Caesar is busy plotting against Pompey (the general not the football club), although I reckon he's in with a chance with Atia of the Julii, a woman who's Atia it all the time. She's so busy, she often has no time to get dressed.

Polly Walker is clearly having a ball being evil. "Bring him back safe or I'll use the eyes of your children for beads," she says.

Atia thinks nothing of having a bull sacrificed so she can bathe in its blood, a scene that will not endear her to the anti-animal cruelty lobby. She'd like us to think she's really a gentle soul. "I'd have you flogged and hung from a bracket on the door if I weren't a gentle woman," she tells someone who's offended her.

We're going to see the machinations of the Romans through the eyes of the common man, as played by Stevenson and McKidd. Tight Pullover is a man of simple tastes, declaring "I like to kill my enemy, take their gold and enjoy their women". If he can manage all three at once so much the better.

Lucius Vorenus is much more sensible. He asks to be woken "when the moon's at the zenith" which is, I suppose, more in keeping with the times than saying "when the right hand's past Mickey Mouse's left ear".

Misery, Harrogate Theatre

NOVELIST Paul Sheldon's number one fan has him exactly where she wants him - confined to bed in her isolated home.

Annie Wilkes has rescued him when his car went off the road during a snowstorm and taken him home. She's not about to let him go, keeping him drugged and bedbound until he rescinds his decision to kill off his most famous - and her most beloved - literary heroine, the Misery of the title, of a series of romantic novels.

Whether in book, film or play form, Stephen King's story is an exercise in grand guignol as the increasingly deranged Annie turns nasty to make her novelist prisoner do her bidding.

Simon Moore's adaptation is a claustrophobic two-hander that needs more atmosphere and suspense than Steve Ansell's production provides. The revolving set allows the action to move from room to room as the tale of terror unfolds and Sheldon is forced to revive the heroine he killed off in his last book.

But Jonathan Barlow's incapacitated author seems far too casual about his confinement and not fearful enough of the escalating violence of his obsessive fan. He literally takes everything lying down.

Karen Archer's number one fan Annie Wilkes is frightening in her sudden mood swings and flashes of violence that make her so dangerous, culminating in a scene in which she performs an operation to ensure he can't run away. It's a moment of explicit, bloody horror among all the mind games played by the pair in this lukewarm production.

l Until Saturday. Box office: 01423 502 116.

Steve Pratt

Little Women, Gala, Durham

THIS is the ideal play for a winter's night - as comfortable as an old pair of slippers, and guaranteed to leave you with a warm glow. In the hands of Theatreworks, it covers the first of the original two novels by Louisa May Alcott, focusing on the early lives of the four March sisters and their beloved Marmee.

The staging is traditional, with a simple set doubling as the March household and that of their neighbours, the rich but lonely Laurences. After watching the girls from his window, the young Theodore Laurence - otherwise known as Laurie - makes their acquaintance at a ball, securing their affection by helping with Meg's broken ankle.

The familiar story follows the Pilgrim-like struggles of the poor March sisters and their mother during the American Civil War, in which the girls' father is serving. We see each girl try to come to terms with her own shortcomings - Meg's vanity, Jo's temper, Beth's shyness and Amy's selfishness - as they seek to emulate their seemingly perfect Marmee. Yet when, in a fit of malice, Amy burns Jo's precious book, Marmee reveals her own battle to contain her feelings.

The play progresses at a steady pace, with tears and laughter in equal measure. X Factor runner up Cassandra Compton is lively and engaging as Jo, while Casualty's Julia Watson is a solid Marmee. The only slight criticism I would make is that neither had quite mastered the American accent. All in all, a real feel-good night out.

* Until Saturday. Box office 0191-332 4041

Sarah Foster