There was almost a tangible smell of pineapple chunks in the air as I took my seat for the Palace Theatre’s production of Alan Ayckbourn’s Absent Friends, and throughout director Brigid Larmour’s well observed production, I found myself thigh boot deep in ‘70s nostalgia.  It was not only Emma Wee’s brilliantly-realised lounge set complete with faux ponyskin rug and glass-topped table that hauled me backwards to my youth, but Ayckbourn’s witty portrayal of male chauvenism run riot and the disco soundtrack were all spot on.  The play could have ended up steeped in caricature, however, were it not for the cast, who under Brigid’s meticulously detailed direction, were word perfect in their delivery. Each added subtle nuances of expression that made their characters all the more real.

Claire Lams was a delight as the monosyllabic Evelyn and Ian Targett’s Colin was positively evangelical. It was also a treat to see panto favourite Dale Superville in a straight man role as John, playing foil to Jonathan Guy Lewis’ macho man Paul.  Praise too for Sally Ann Triplett as do-gooder Marge and Abigail Thaw as the near hysterical Diana. One minute a woman-on-the-edge and the next with eye’s flashing in anger the spit of her late dad, John Thaw; he’d have been right proud.

This fabulous and fun '70s fest is a must-see event.

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Back in 1974, Ayckbourn chanced his arm with this thin Chekhovian comedy in which nothing much happens except a group of unhappy friends sitting around talking about their problems. He was also making fun of our reluctance to face up to death, which rings false at a time when people rush forward to console the bereaved.

Here we have Colin whose beloved fiancée has accidentally drowned, while old friends Di and Marge are hosting a tense tea party to cheer him up. But the unmentionable death becomes both an elephant in the room and the chief joke of the evening. As it turns out, the beaming Colin, played by Ian Targett, takes a rosily romantic view of his misfortune, hands round favourite snaps of the lost loved one and tells his chums how lucky they are to have made good marriages. This acts as a catalyst for a series of loosely comic set-pieces in which Di, played by Abigail Thaw, anoints her erring husband Paul with the contents of the cream jug before going into a screaming fit, while a long-suffering John faces up to his role as a cuckold to Paul’s sneaky sex drive.

Happily, Ayckbourn also wrote a brilliant cameo role for Marge, a childless wife whose husband is a perpetual invalid, always on the phone from his sick bed. This gives Sally Ann Triplett the opportunity to create a character of quiet tragedy, tenderness and depth - much of it in her playing rather than the writing - and one which for me transformed a disappointing evening into one of those nights to remember.