Sunny Afternoon (Harold Pinter Theatre)

If all jukebox musicals were as well crafted as Sunny Afternoon, the genre would have a much better reputation than it does. Where many pack the songs around a tenuous plotline, or simply serve up a string of hits with little or no narrative thread, this Kinks show, created by Ray Davies, finds a neat balance between the two.

At its heart sits an outstanding performance from John Dagleish as Davies, who is totally convincing as the insomniac cockney genius who thinks in music. This is all the more impressive considering Dagleish's notable lack of previous stage roles (the programme lists only one); a West End star is born.

Davies' autobiographical story, which has been honed by playwright Joe Penhall, encompasses the full story of the 'Muswell Hillbillies', as they grow from teenage dancehall performers to world-conquering rock stars. Along the way the Davies brothers fall out and make up more times than the Gallaghers, and the band gets barred from America for failing to comply with the mafioso unions.

It's a story I knew little of before, having only had a cursory knowledge of the Kinks' music, but it certainly gets to the core of what it means to be young, successful and creatively frustrated. When bassist Pete (Ned Derrington) threatens to leave due to feeling isolated, Ray wittily retorts, "We're all isolated, it's what being in a band's all about."

It's one of several memorable lines that pepper Penhall's script. Another zinger comes from cigar-chomping agent Allen Klein (Philip Bird, who also plays papa Davies), telling the well-meaning lads – who've been screwed over by a succession of 'managers' – that "showbusiness is all about revenge."

Edward Hall's production has transplanted successfully from Hampstead to the Harold Pinter, where a catwalk thrusts out into the stalls and small cabaret tables fringe the auditorium. It's perhaps a couple of songs too long, running at three hours in total, but when the tunes are this good, from "You Really Got Me" through a euphoric rendition of the title song to a curtain call singalong of "Lola", it would seem churlish to complain.