I walked into the Corpus Playroom and took my seat, facing a brightly lit living room. A pre-set without actors is a decision I approve of: it gives the audience a chance to soak in the atmosphere of the play, to become comfortable in the space. Stanley Thomas’ set design was spot on: as I studied the stage, the clutter of household objects littering the various items of furniture told me this was the living room of a certain type of character. When the lights came up on Donny and Davey, standing in silence for some time, I knew instantly that we were in the former’s home. Of course, this is thanks to an equally good job on the part of Kitya Marks’ costume design: Davey’s outfit perfectly captured the indolent youth, while Donny’s suggested an older, disillusioned character. As the drama played out, this proved to be true in both cases. This silence at the beginning of the play is perfect, giving the audience a chance to soak up the visuals of the characters and space together. The pregnant pause as the two shuffle in their spots is long enough to be funny when cut by the first line, but not so long it becomes uncomfortable. Max Harrison (Donny) and Ed Paget (Davey) are a delightful pairing, embodying such different characters, but playing well the familiar relationship between them.

We soon find out that the unlikely friends are behaving so strangely because Davey has brought Donny’s cat, Thomas, back to him. Unfortunately, Thomas is dead. If this was not bad enough, Donny reveals that the cat was not actually his, but belonged to his son: ‘Mad’ Padraic (played by Benedict Mulcare), the Lieutenant of an IRA splinter group, the INLA. Davey’s reaction tells us all we need to know about how that bodes for them. For some unfathomable reason, Donnie decides to ring Padraic and tell him the cat is ill, with the intention of letting him down easy. However, he underestimates his son’s love for wee Thomas – his ‘best friend in the world’ – and Padraic, despite being in the middle of torturing a drug pusher by slicing off his nipple, rushes home to check up on his cat. Things can only get more chaotic and violent from here, as Padraic fights against cat-brainers with the same vigour and violence with which he fights for a free Ireland.

This is a play that is unapologetically Irish. The politics and language are rich in Irish nationalism, and the music between scenes added to this. Another aspect of this Irishness is of course accent. The quality of the accents was varied – some were inconsistent, especially in comparison with Helen Jennings’ authentic Northern Irish lilt as Muraid, putting them to shame even in song – but Paget and Mulcare were both particularly convincing. To be fair to the cast, even the shakier accents were not so obviously off that they detracted from the overall performance.

On the whole, performances were strong across the board: Mulcare delivers the ‘madness’ of Padraic with playful shades of light and dark, while Jennings’ Muraid is wonderfully feisty but still nuanced. The only momentary slip of the night was immediately rectified by Connor Rowlett (as Christy), although it did seem to knock him off stride after a strong entrance. The splinter group scenes were somewhat lacking compared to the rest of the play, although it is hard to say whether actors, director or script made this the case. The highlight is the extended penultimate scene, which finds all the characters on stage, and was really well executed both in terms of both the acting performances and directorial staging choices.

Staging throughout was well considered by Director Megan Dunne, who used specific light choices to great effect but kept technical additions minimal, allowing the actors to create most of the atmosphere on stage. One of the most ambitious choices was bringing a bike onto the Corpus Stage (credit to Olly Francis as Stage Manager for successfully navigating it in the tiny backstage space) but it was inspired, and really works. Dunne has clearly worked with the actors to bring out the best of the script: the moments of comedy are perfectly timed, and in some case deliberately overplayed for effect. Indeed, this is a production that relishes in excess and distinctly dark comedy, and indulging it creates a surprisingly funny production considering the subject matter. The performance is fun, and definitely worth seeing. Expect lots of violence, lots of blood and lots of laughs.

The Lieutenant of Inishmore is on in the Corpus Playroom until 24 February