Beneath the bellowing and bluster, Vulverine has a sentimental heart: the story of an unremarkable young woman who finds herself heroic due to a mixture of chemicals and lightning, it mocks musical theatre and superhero cliches in a knowing manner that would be much more charming if the script didn't rely so heavily on willy jokes and crass humour.

The action is delivered with lairy aplomb, although some of the cast haven't realised that wearing a microphone means that shouting isn't necessary. Using feminist complaints would be innovative, if only the romantic conclusion didn't slip into the hackneyed resolution of boy and girl resolve their misunderstandings and lesbian sidekick gets a contrived partner. The script is deliberately built from the fragments of superhero stories, but its parodies are blunt and the musical numbers are not often memorable and repeatedly echo familiar pop tunes.

Vulvarine does have a vibrant energy, however, and clearly plays well to the audience with its broad comedy and fast action. With a self-awareness about its ramshackle construction, and a plot that laughs at the stupidity of male insecurity, it is a lively, if uneven, roar of simple fun.

Assembly George Square, until 26 Aug, 7pm, £12 (£10)