Born with two left feet, more like. That doesn't mean just the cast, as they take to the floor of the salsa club we're asked to believe they frequent, but also director Kane's script which bears scant resemblance to life as we know it in London or, for that matter, anywhere else on the planet. Lester's cabbie, the fount of all wisdom (earthly rather than divine, but still saintly and implausible), is a common denominator in the lives of six stereotypes, all, wittingly or not, in need of love. On the distaff side, there's standoffish posh Williams, hypochondriac neurotic McCormack and promiscuous hairdresser Horrocks; the lads making predictable play for them are MOR-obsessed smoothie Ferguson, inept thief Mistry and failed Scouse muso Morrissey, who let Horrocks down ages ago. As the actors playing these less than engaging characters mug their way through the flaccid sitcom conceits that pass for a plot, the question's not 'Who will that nice minicab driver end up with?' - that's obvious pretty early on - but 'Please can we take a short cut and get this over with?'