Perhaps I’m a blackened sinner or just plain naïve, but a play billed as a risqué Roman sex comedy, came across to me as full of charming, childish fun.

Vice Versa is Phil Porter’s rewrite based upon the plays of Plautus: material which had them rolling in Roman aisles over 2,000 years ago. And if you’re never far from a gentle double or even triple entendre, the jokes actually target preposterous notions about sex. Whilst the plot is focussed on underdogs outwitting a tyrant.

It’s all been done before and its the building on tradition which is the attraction. Shakespeare did it, Commedia Dell’arte did it, and so did the Carry On films, Morecombe and Wise, Frankie Howerd and many more. And the RSC – director Janice Honeyman and a very talented cast mostly do it with élan.

The plot is a tale of two neighbouring villas. One contains women and servant abuser General  Braggadocio, his enforced mistress Voluptia and a sharp-witted female slave, Dexter. And the other, Voluptia’s  lover. Aided by sympathetic servants, the fabrication of an identical twin, a monkey and every trick known to farce, Dexter brings the lovers together and eventually secures their and her own escape.

It would be tempting to add a star or two to the rating in this articles’ heading, but the production occasionally lacks pace and it is more of an amiable canter than a headlong  drive into ever funnier situations. What would lift it along the way would be some sharper, hard- hitting – dare I say? – slightly more risqué humour.

When it is on song, however, it is a rare treat. Felix Hayes as the general is singly worth the price of a ticket. Stupendously arrogant, lecherous and open to flattery he is a comic marvel. The musical numbers are delivered with real old showbiz razzmatazz and verve, and marvellous moments include a Two Ronnies-like plot summary, with every phrase instantly illustrated by the production of an apt item from a grocery basket.

Sophia Nomvete as Dexter lends cheeky spirit to every devious device, Steven Kynman’s brain visibly hurts as the idiot servant Feclus, Nicholas Day contributes amused geniality as a neighbour, and Ellie Beaven, as Voluptua and her pretend sister always seems a match for her bombastic master.

You leave the theatre smiling, and that’s an outcome worth more than rubies in these politically challenged days.  ★★★☆☆    Derek Briggs  14^th June 2017