Just when it seemed like the Concise Oxford English Dictionary would soon be relegating the word ‘ridiculous’ to float around in wordy heaven alongside ‘millennium bug’ and ‘cassette player’, Spymonkey came along with Cooped to right the world.
On a day when the new normal included Donald Trump announcing a potential US land grab of the NHS it was a relief to see someone reclaiming the preposterous from the realm of politics for that of pure entertainment.
Actually, even this year’s Brexit negotiations would have to go some to compete with Cooped on chaos and sheer silliness.
Part Hammer Horror, part Monty Python, the comedy is set in a rambling mansion house deep in the countryside where grown-up orphan Laura du Lay (Petra Massey) has just arrived as the new secretary to Forbes Murdston (Toby Park).
Their inevitable romance is thwarted by, among other things, a ghost in a lift, a series of bizarre nightmares mostly involving clergymen, the romantic rival and solicitor Roger Parchment (Aitor Basauri) and Murdston’s bewildering spilt personality.
So far so simple.
But throw in a flock of motorised pheasants, some naked capering, a bit of fun with wigs, a sinister, gurning Butler (Stephan Kreiss) and a good five minutes of fart gags and you have barely even scratched the surface of the madcap, anarchic hullabaloo that Spymonkey manages on the Liverpool Playhouse stage.
No comic device is left untouched by the team of four, with them and director Cal McCrystal using farce, toilet humour, visual gags, slapstick and physical comedy, magic tricks, funny songs, daft accents and more in a deceptively clever show that had the audience laughing from its opening seconds.
The purpose of some scenes beyond hilarity never becomes clear - although it’s possible I was laughing too hard to notice if they did.
Even the actors found keeping a straight face challenging when confronted with a colleague trying to crack their composure.
We had polar-necked folkies singing about no sex before marriage, a trio of priests kicking each other up the caboose and a flying nun bursting surreally into the main plot line.
This is glorious silliness by even Spymonkey’s own standards, and yet Cooped was originally premiered in 2001.
Revived to mark the theatre company’s 20th anniversary, it has returned at just the right moment.
Political drama and morality tales are vital to our national discourse, but sometimes it’s a relief just to have a really good laugh.
