I’d also like to note Chris Leask as Sergei Ivanov is a standout comic presence. Leask fully commits to the character, finding humour in every gesture, expression and line delivery. There is a wonderfully playful quality to the performance and his ability to embrace the heightened nature of the production adds considerably to its chaotic charm. The other half of the writer duo Henry Lewis as Douglas Woodbead brings a wonderfully eccentric energy to the stage demonstrating a strong understanding of comic characterisation, with Lewis making the most of the role’s quirks while never losing sight of the character within the story. His physical comedy and expressive reactions provide some particularly memorable moments. Greg Tannahill as Albert Tipton, while also taking on the demanding responsibilities of Fight Director and Fight Captain, brings both comic skill and technical precision to the production. His performance fits seamlessly into the ensemble, while his work behind the scenes helps ensure that the physical comedy and action are executed safely and effectively Nancy Zamit as Janet Buchanan adds another strong comic personality to the ensemble. She brings warmth and individuality to the character, with a performance that plays beautifully against the heightened antics of those around her. Zamit’s comic reactions and timing make Janet an enjoyable and important part of the ensemble dynamic.

David Farley’s set design deserves its own secret agent codename. The hotel is not merely a backdrop; it becomes a machine for producing comedy. Rooms, corridors, telephones, doors and characters appear to operate independently after one and other, creating the theatrical equivalent of watching several car crashes happening in slow motion while somehow hoping nobody gets hurt. The audience are behind the action, every step of the way, you could hear the audience reactions in unison as the play unravels, everyone is so invested that even if some bits are predictable the writers have a way of turning it all on its head. There are moments when the sheer number of jokes threatens to overwhelm the story and not every gag lands with quite the same force, that being said The Comedy About Spies is not asking you to sit quietly and admire a perfectly constructed plot. It is inviting you to surrender to the increasingly ridiculous possibility that things could somehow get even worse. 

The real triumph is that, despite knowing exactly what kind of show you are watching, you still find yourself surprised. If The Play That Goes Wrong taught us that theatre can be hilarious when it collapses, The Comedy About Spies tells us that sometimes the most silliest things can still be funny.