The Howard Theatre in Downing College is ridiculously, unapologetically camp. Draped in lurid red velvet and doodled by faux-classical murals, it falls tragically short of plush grandeur, and instead plumps for a kitsch but fun atmosphere. These lacquered surroundings lend themselves well to the returning tour of Much Ado About Nothing, which sets itself in the early twentieth century amidst frilly umbrellas, games of croquet and a vague undertone of female insurgence. The exuberant style of the theatre negates any need for ornate set design, and the stage is left quite clear, aside from one very silly string of Cath Kidston bunting which hangs stubbornly and pointlessly throughout. A subtle palette of purple, red and cream unites tasteful costume design in an attentive production that on the whole represents some of the best Cambridge has to offer.

 An easy and comfortable, if practised, chemistry simmers amongst the cast, and the individual performances can be roughly halved between those that were outstanding, and those that fell way short. Holly Braine as Beatrice towers above her fellow cast members both physically and theatrically. She is exceptional; sweeping between fresh hilarity and touching softness that is impressive and rare. Okey Nzelu is an underused comic talent in this production, providing excellent farcical relief, whilst Johan Munir showers the stage in a steady stream of spittle in his attempt to achieve comic heights by screaming all his lines. Niall Wilson reprises his go-to role as a crippled geriatric, cantankerous and embittered when required. It’s a part he plays with aplomb, but one that needs no repetition.

Director Alice Malin makes some surprising blunders in this production. Her participation in last year’s Chekhov promised an understanding of comedy that is not fully delivered in Much Ado. What could have been a bright, intelligent wit is substituted for an inflated, forced silliness that is yelled at the audience at a flinch-worthy volume. The positives far outweigh the negatives, however, particularly in the music and choreography, which transform what are often the least legible aspects of Shakespeare into an enjoyable and important part of the play. Rarely does one witness such a successful incorporation of music and dance within Cambridge theatre, but this performance boasts a self-assured inclusion of both.

A cast that outnumbered the crowd is an unfortunate and undeserved reception for such a lively, assertive interpretation that accomplishes an undeniable degree of professionalism. Following The Relapse, this is the second in what appears to be an emerging theme of comic frivolity for the Howard Theatre, in which a more modest production would be drowned in a red sea of leather. Despite this predictability, Downing College does boast a unique and welcome new space in Cambridge, which tempts ambitious performances, and so far delivers.