The lively quintet that make up Body in Space are highly entertaining and versatile, with a keen sense of the absurd. This serves their slapstick approach to Dumas’s classic tale very well. It was the week Wellington stole Hamilton’s fog, leaving us tropically hot days and many noisy cicadas.

Full marks to Body in Space then for performing with such panache at the unamusing hour of eleven on a Saturday morning, in front of an undeservedly small crowd. We did our best to sing along as required. They are well worth going to see.

No reading of Dumas is required, as you all know what to expect of the story. Swashbuckling sword play. A young swordsman joining the famous three. The foolish king of France mis-advised by the cruel Cardinal Richelieu (a senior Jeremy Irons role if ever there was one). Saving the honour of the Queen. A hint of romance.

To be fair there were more plot details than this, but they did not seem important. Sensibly they did not get in the way of the amusing foolery and highly energetic mode of delivery which serves the group so well.

Up against the trees and down by the river, a two-dimensional castle shaped like chess pieces. The King and the Cardinal plot their moves out with large chess pieces, and a ruffed chess piece even plays the Queen herself (Queen ‘takes’ the pawn and so on). A window frame works well as something you can climb in to and out of, into space and, if necessary, in the English channel. A large chest doubles as a row boat.

The colourful costumes quickly sketch in the period shape (long flared coats, lively waistcoats), and allow for quick changes, as all the cast play many parts. All in all the effect is a kind of pantomime for grownups. 

Since we were so entertained, it seems churlish to ask for more. Last year this group wrapped themselves around Wilde’s Earnest, surely the greatest English farce. Left here to their own adaptive devices, their Three Musketeers is not as controlled or disciplined. 

The wandering plot could easily be trimmed, allowing time for a more climactically ridiculous sword fight, to match the one between D’Artagnan and his son D’Artagnan at the beginning. Perhaps too we could have some of the genuine passion which marks Dumas’s book or Rostand’s famous play Cyrano, set also in 1620s France.

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