On the two nights I saw Charley's Aunt with a full-to-capacity Theatro Technis audience, they roared with laughter.

Always a good start for one of the most loved comedies, which originally opened in London in 1892, ran for four years, and has been revived ever since with the likes of Arthur Askey, Frankie Howard and Griff Rhys Jones. Sean McMullen in our production had a lot to live up to as Lord Fancourt Babberley, but this he did mighty well, presenting a daft posh boy in a frock rather than a drag queen. The manic gleam of mischief in his eyes, peering over goldrimmed glasses, showed he was laughing at his own antics rather than believing them, and vast manly strides under swathes of black silk and lace proved irresistible to the audience as well as to the simpering ladies on stage.

The plot is as dated as a penny farthing. Two undergraduates who might have stepped right out of P.G.Wodehouse, with a butler to match, (excellently underplayed by Richard Kirby,) want to invite two girls (debutantes, of course,) to speak to them of love. However, this can't be done without a chaperone, and they must escape the clutches of their horrid uncle/guardian, Mr. Stephen Spettigue, (portrayed with correct pomposity by Mathew Vickers). Charlie Wykeham (one of the boys) was adopted many years ago by a rich aunt he has never met, and she is arriving from Brazil that day - so problem solved, she can be the chaperone.

But she is delayed and won't be arriving by teatime. What to do? Convince Lord Falcourt Babberley, whe goes in for amateur theatricals, to dress up and become the Brazilian aunt, Donna Lucia d'Alvadorez. After protestations, he is game for the lark. Another character is introduced: Sir Francis Chesney, father of the other undergrad, Jack Chesney. Sir Francis is excellently played by Simon Boughey, who not only looked and sounded the part, but also has perfect comic timing.

We're not finished yet. The two ladies, Kitty Verdun (unfortunate family name) and Amy Spettigue, played by Camilla Fox and Sophie Rodrigues respectively, looked suitably attractive and connived any number of "walks around the sweet garden", playing up to their beaus in a desperate attempt to get a coherent sentence out of these two silly asses.

Finally, the fun really gets going when the real Donna Lucia d'Alvadorez, accompanied by her niece Miss Ella Delahay, arrive unexpectedly and unannounced. Donna Lucia is played in stately fashion by Helen McCormack - more often seen as a Cockney landlady - and here I must declare an interest, as I played this part myself, with the Frankfurt English Speaking Theatre, in 1975. (German audiences particularly love comedies about the English class system.)

Highlights are the cash-strapped Sir Francis trying to woo Fancourt Babberley, believing him to be millionaire Donna Lucia, and Babberley in turn wooing the two girls, just to wind up his two chums and pay them back for getting him into this predicament. At one point he declares: "I'm a disgrace to my sex!" but which sex is he referring to? The running gag "she's from Brazil - where the nuts come from!" - becomes pure pantomime, with the audience joining in vigorously. The moment Fancourt Babberley thinks he is alone, he lights up a cigar - only to desperately conceal it as the real Donna Lucia takes his arm. She graciously rescues him by confirming that Brazilian ladies do indeed smoke - as she should know.

Just to tie up loose strings, Miss Ella Delahay - demurely played by newcomer Holly Milne - turns out to be the long lost love of Fancourt Babberley, and the real Donna Lucia has been pining over 20 years for the once-seen-never-forgotten Sir Francis. So that's all right then, and so much for plot.

I have a couple of problems with the production. This type of farce demands a breakneck pace and lasting 2 hours 15 minutes, with 2 intervals of 15 minutes each, the action was too slow. Many of the exchanges - particularly in Act 1 between Charlie and Jack - had second gaps between replies. Whilst Charlie has to be the stolid counterpoint to the frenetic Jack, he seemed to lack energy. And Owen Chidlaw, blessed with mobile facial features which could express every emotion, needs to keep them under control so he is not just seen to be making continuous faces. Similarly, anxiety does not need to be shown by frantic pacing up and down, but in more subtle ways.

And here's a generalised plea to casts: keep your wits about you! When a Victorian lady drops her fan, and then her purse, don't leave it to her to pick them up. More than one gentleman close by could have shown that gallantry.

Set Design by Wendy Parry was up to her usual high standard and suited every scene change. Costumes by Lily Ann Coleman - and there were many - looked splendid, even if Victorian and Edwardian were often together. (Well, it was the turn of the century.) I particularly like Kitty Verdun's outfits, and the grey evening dress of Sir Francis. Lighting and sound were all spot on, and Richard Kirby, who worked on the fast farce movements of Chesney, Wykeham and Babberley, did a good job. (Note to Director: rather than play out slapstick in dead silence, hurry-up music could be introduced.)

All in all, this was a successful crowd-pleaser, which is what it has been since Brandon Thomas first wrote it in the early 1890's … so well done to director Eddie Coleman and the large cast and crew.