From the moment one steps into the theatre, all is a mystery. Two stepladders and three footstools stand unassuming upon the stage, washed in murky hues of green and pink light, punctuated by punk-rock music playing over the speakers. The scene is bewildering and humorous: the first taste of the ludicrous confusion which is about to unfold.

The show opens with a disclaimer regarding the non-identical identicalness of the actors, led by Lizzy Riley’s witty encouragement for audience participation. Breanna Asante makes a powerful debut in the opening; her confidence shines through her melodramatic recapitulation of Angelo’s history that gets the audience laughing from the outset. This scene gives a foretaste that this is a play brimming with many talented performers. Every actor in the ensemble beams with confidence as they mime out the tale being told, sustaining an exaggerated, silly energy throughout the play which is nothing short of a delight to watch.

“A feat which is undeniably the result of an expressive, upbeat cast”

Every actor remains present whilst they are on stage, even if they are playing a minor role. Director James Allen should be congratulated on this account: the chemistry between his cast is impressively natural; even the subtle interactions and bewildered glances that characters share both enhance the main dialogue and propel the show’s comic momentum. At the same time, the cast perform to a high technical quality, successfully performing convincing stage fights, leaping and stumbling after one another to combine combat with perfectly-timed physical comedy. Overall, it should be highly commended that the Shakespearean language is not lost on the audience and that the storyline remains clear throughout the performance, a feat which is undeniably the result of an expressive, upbeat cast.

Particularly notable in his performance is Marques Monteiro, who captivates the audience with flamboyant charisma. His Antipholus of Syracuse is self-absorbed (evidenced by his ridiculously comic smoulder before every monologue scene) and emotionally labile, swinging between hyperbolic states of elation and erratic disbelief. In his mannerisms towards other characters he is playful and puppy-like, completely eradicating any attempt to appear alluring and desirable to Luciana (Lizzy Riley) in the cringeworthy dance scene.

Equally successful is Gaby Albertelli as Dromio of Ephesus. In both her physicality and expression she displays great range: at one moment brimming with lovable loyalty for her master; the next charging at him (or whom she believes to be him) with intense ferocity. Her lines are delivered in a dry, sarcastic tone which continuously draws laughter from the audience. In contrast, James Allen’s Dromio of Syracuse is meek and despairing, bordering on identity crisis as the confusion mounts.

The quality and talent within this production is further demonstrated by the success of actors playing several roles. At no point does the production lose coherency as a result of this; if anything it renders the show utterly hysterical by intensifying the sense of disorientation and confusion. Scarlett Coburn transforms from proud Adriana to the seductive Courtesan at the drop of a hat (quite literally), although the most comically pleasing demonstration of multi-roling is undeniably that of Helen Brooks and her seagull puppet.

“Particularly notable in his performance is Marques Monteiro”

Furthermore, the inventive use of props contributes significantly to the production’s humour. Stool legs become swords, puppets become characters in their own right and an abbess (Eleftheria Mangrioti) thunders upon stage with a smoke-machine at the beginning of each half of the show, creating an ambience that is at once ominous and delightfully silly.

The closing scene of the play is particularly enjoyable. Antipholous of Ephesus (Edward Badege) self-pityingly pleads his anecdote to the befuddled Duke (Aryan Misra – who should also be credited for his diverse roles across the show), whilst the other characters chime in with their own accounts. The chaos and confusion that has been brewing across the entire play reaches a completely hysterical crescendo, equally so in the moment of realisation following the appearance of Antipholus and Dromio of Ephesus. What ensues appears to be a large-scale imitation of the ‘Spiderman-point’ meme: the pairs of twins face one another in disbelief, whilst the other cast members are rendered equally bemused. James Allen’s line delivery is comical here, as he states the painfully obvious fact that all of the play’s mishaps are the result of unidentified ‘identical twins’, from which moment the very joke of the play itself loses its irony amongst the characters.

For anyone needing an early escape from the intensity of Cambridge student life this Lent Term, The Comedy of Errors is certainly the best medicine.

The Comedy of Errors continues its run at the ADC Theatre until the 24th of January.