With two productions of Shakespeare's little known and rarely seen history play hitting the boards at more-or-less the same time, which will win the King John bragging rights? Of course the companies in question - the RSC and Northern Broadsides - will be tackling the piece in their own idiosyncratic ways.

Now I can't speak for Gregory Doran's bunch as I'm unlikely to see their effort but, speaking as a proud northerner, I know who my money is on.

Northern Broadsides' version, which is doing the rounds along with The Merry Wives (true to their Yorkshire roots, Barrie Rutter and his gang have spurned the "of Windsor" suffix), follows the company's style book to the letter. Minimalist set (designed by Jessica Worrall), emblematic costume, energetic and passionate performances and those northern voices making Shakespeare's words spring to life in ways that you never thought possible. It is what fans of the company have come to expect and yet, somehow, this time it doesn't quite come off.

And, in light of the fact that the tactically brilliant co-directors Rutter and Conrad Nelson are still adhering to the winning formula, we can only lay the blame at Shakespeare's feet. Like a Rolling Stones' concert where the crowd are only there for the encore of (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction, what the obscure King John fails to provide is a famous speech for us all to sing along to in a flat-vowelled manner. King John also lacks the bawdiness that Broadsides are so very, very good at.

Major caveats then. But all is not lost, and Nelson and Rutter take us briskly through the political episodes that make up the play. The text, all in verse, gives the cast plenty to chew on. And in Faulconbridge (Nelson) we have the original theatrical bastard, while Adam Sunderland is a skulking adolescent as Arthur, rebellious nephew to Fine Time Fontayne's King John, who will do anything to hang onto the throne.

Northern Broadsides' usual quirky penchant for props with wheels also surfaces with the use of huge mobile kettle drums which are beaten come battle-time. Northern Broadsides never did, nor never shall, lie at the proud foot of the RSC. Nah, despite one or two problems, Rutter, save for a few battle scars, remains unwounded.

Dave Windass