DIRTY Dancing has glitz, glamour, great dancing, gorgeous costumes and drop-dead beautiful people and it is pink; preposterously pink, with enough cheese to raise your cholesterol in one sitting.

Of course, it is the dancing that has grabbed the public’s imagination, aided and abetted by the phenomenally successful TV series Strictly Come Dancing.

And, oh boy, this cast can dance.

If you want a masterclass in samba, mambo and salsa, this show has it all, plus the extra factor of super-fit people with the expertise of Olympic gymnasts.

It feels quite odd to say that this is a period piece, but it is just that.

It is set in the 1960s, when growing up was all about being 16 and hopelessly, or stupidly, perhaps, in love.

A time of musical chairs and sack races, dirty dancing and personal rebellion.

Johnny and Baby (Paul- Michael Jones and Jill Winternitz) fall in love to the mambo with all the angst of interference from the grownups.

There are great performances all round and stunning, ever-changing, highdefinition sets from designer Stephen Brimson Lewis.

I loved the set with the boy scout fire, and the ocean scene was just incredible.

Show songs were fantastic too: Hungry Eyes, You Do Something to Me and, of course, (I’ve had) the Time of My Life.

However, they were not helped by the woman sitting behind me who appeared to think she was in a karaoke bar and sang every song, word for word, very badly.

I prefer the film, which was full of intimacy and schmaltz.

I was expecting all manner of theatrical fantastical but, instead of adding something special, it never really strayed from the film script and was a bit like watching it again while wearing 3D glasses.

I know Sunderland’s enraptured audience will disagree with me – they were lapping it up like cats on a cream binge.