Out of Order, Theatre Royal, Nottingham

A little trouser-dropping is never really out of place on stage, and with a falling towel or two and a beautiful young secretary running around in her skimpies, it’s clear there’s a Ray Cooney farce under way.

Suspend your disbelief at what unfolds because, like the actors, you’ll have a whale of a time. It’s over 35 years old now but this summer-season trouser-dropping show IS still funny.

Jeffrey Harmer is a Tory MP hoping for some extra marital fun with a minion from the opposition side of the House (Susie Amy from Footballers’ Wives) until he discovers a body in his hotel room which puts a stop to any thoughts of romance.

Soon there are doors (and the window) opening and closing, people popping in and out, here, there and everywhere as the plot not only thickens, but gets hopelessly tangled.

Sean Williamson, (EastEnders’ Barry Evans) as the beleaguered personal private secretary, shows mastery of a range of emotions – taking the audience along for the ride through his bewilderment, agony, anguish, desperation, mania and what can only be described as an unknowing smouldering sexual prowess.

Arthur Bostrom (from ‘Allo ‘Allo) appears as a hotel manager who continually walks in on people in compromising positions. And there’s Sue Holderness (Only Fools) and Cooney regular David Warwick in the mix too.

As always, the contrived jigsaw slots nicely together after all the big set-ups in the first act, as the second sees events spiral out of control only to be neatly – and satisfactorily – dispatched as the play hurtles towards its close.

There’s not much imagination required to see the bare cheek (!) of it all. In fact some of what you don’t see gets the biggest reaction. That, and the actors shrugging off a jammed door with aplomb.

This is an updated version of the original 1990 play and while there are certainly some  (now) rarely heard “phwoars” which set it back in time, up-to-date references to UKIP, Brexit, our current prime minister and the leader of the opposition firmly place it in the present day. 

Of course, all of the to-ing and fro-ing would never happen now because of the mobile phone – but who’d consign a fun evening like this to history?