In a world where the Emoji movie exists, it’s easy to turn your nose up at the idea of the franchising of anything and everything. In the case of Cluedo, there is at least some semblance of a story to work with: a murder to solve, a location to investigate, clues to find and suspects to interrogate. That’s a setting, plot and cast right there. None of that ensures quality, however, which, in the case of both the 1985 American movie and now, the British stage version, is achieved through taking the most serious of crimes as least seriously as possible.

Directed anglicised by Mark Bell, this production – currently at the New Theatre in Cardiff this week – is as delightfully silly and fleet-footed as Jonathan Lynn and Sandy Rustin’s original script, zipping through its two-hour runtime with rapid-fire tongue-twisters and the slappiest of slapstick. Rather than 1950s America and the McCarthy trials, Bell localises the historical and political backdrop to 1949’s Lynskey Tribunal in Britain – a scandal that nearly cost one Minister and Director of the Bank of England their jobs and freedoms. 

Caught up all in this is Miss Scarlet (Michelle Collins), a Soho escort; Professor Plum (Daniel Casey), a stuffy intellectual; Colonel Mustard (Wesley Griffith), an idiotic member of the upper crust; Mrs White (Etisyai Philip), a serial widow; Mrs Peacock (Judith Amsenga), a moralising hypocrite and Reverand Green (Tom Babbage, Mr Green in the board game), a jittery conservative. They all have something to hide, and when summoned by letter to Boddy Manor they’re met by butler Wadsworth (Jean-Luke Worrell), who reveals that these secrets give them a few surprising things in common… to say nothing of the dead bodies that keep piling up around them.

If you know the film, you know what to expect, but that doesn’t make Cluedo any less impactful in its twists or funny in its farcical sense of humour. That farcicalness reached new accidental heights in the performance I saw when ensemble player Harry Bradley’s policeman moustache suddenly fluttered to the floor; quickly scooped up and tucked away in Wadsworth’s breast pocket while Bradley tried to compose himself. Considering the play already consistently breaks the fourth wall by having the cast stare at and even talk to the audience at points, the wardrobe malfunction could have worked as a staged joke, and the audience lapped it up. 

Aside from some impressive, dexterous physical comedy from Reverand Green and scene-stealing moments from a hip flask-sipping Mrs Peacock (Amsenga playing at least 30 years her senior with a crooked back and bow legs), Worrell’s Wadsworth is the glue that holds the chaos together. Stepping into Tim Curry’s shoes is an unenviable task but the West End actor does a fantastic job embodying the screen legend’s eccentric presence, from his slightly manic grin to the velvety way he enunciates his lines. More uniquely, Worrell’s own physicality adds an extra layer of absurdity – wrapping his fingers around door frames and dragging himself across the floor to wring every last chuckle out of the audience.

The final element central to the game is, of course, Boddy Manor itself, translated into a dynamic moveable set designed by David Farley. With the main foyer providing the hub of Cluedo’s drama, the rest of the iconic murdering rooms are dotted around the sides for the cast to scurry in and out of – and sometimes into each other – Scooby-Doo style. It’s a lot of energy to keep up for two hours (the original film is one hour, 37 mins) and as a result, not every joke packs a murderous wallop. But if you don’t laugh at one, you needn’t worry: another will be along just a few moments later, and the ever-changing pieces on the board will keep you guessing right up until the end.

New Theatre, Cardiff, Mon 4 Apr.

Running until Sat 9 Apr. Info here.