I remember watching Hitchcock’s The 39 Steps with my father on a Sunday afternoon back when I was just nine years old, lazing on the sofa after a big roast, amazed at the world of spies and pencil moustaches.

When I learnt that the play was being staged at the Manoel and directed by Chris Gatt, I seized the opportunity to grab a ticket and revisit the story through a humorous lens.

The 39 Steps is a parody play written by Patrick Barlow, adapted from the 1915 novel by John Buchan and the 1935 film by Alfred Hitchcock, and features intrigue with comic twists set in 1930s England and Scotland. This four-actor play follows Richard Hannay, played by Alan Paris, on a journey of mistaken identities and daring escapes while being pursued by a secret organisation called ‘The 39 Steps’.

Sarah Mercieca played the three female love interests, and Edward Mercieca and Stephen Oliver played just about every other character in the production, sometimes multiple characters switching with a quick costume change onstage.

Entering the theatre, audiences were greeted by distorted swing music and a set featuring a series of stepped brick wall partitions where further set items lay hidden.

Once the final warning bell was rung, out came Alan Paris to whisk us away on his misadventures with a dashing head of hair and a pencil moustache. The lighting was so delicately designed and imbued with such precision that it changed the mood, shifted scenes, and was what I would consider another character in the play, showcasing Gatt’s years of experience as a director and lighting designer.

Sarah Mercieca

The costume design and makeup artistry for this production clearly formed part of the director’s vision, interlacing comedy. All in all, the production design interweaved the characterisations of each character, each action, and plot.

I have to also praise the backstage crew, who, at times, like ninjas, shifted the scenery in less than 10 seconds and kept with the comedic timing and jokes, particularly when scene changes were staged as mistakes, constantly breaking the fourth wall ­– a feat that is quite difficult to achieve without looking like a genuine mistake. Hats off to Gatt and his team.

The high-octane performances had us enthralled

I couldn’t stop laughing; at points, I tried to keep my cackles at bay for fear of being too much of a distraction to the actors. You could tell that the production enjoyed working on this script. The pacing was so great, with high-energy acting at every point in the play and rapid-fire jokes that did not obstruct each actor’s characterisation.

Stephen Oliver

The high-octane performances from all the actors had us enthralled. Paris excelled as the suave hero in a three-piece suit, performing acrobatics while giving us the iconic ‘Blue Steel’ look.

Sarah Mercieca as the three love interests brought on great chemistry with Paris and had great comic timing, and very good accent work too as Annabella Schmidt (a dark-haired German spy), Pamela (the main love interest and an English headstrong blonde that is apprehensive of Richard Hannay), and Margaret (the farmer’s wife – the fling bet­ween Richard and Margaret in the Scottish countryside that lasted less than 24 hours in the plot’s timeline, or five minutes on stage).

The dynamic duo – Edward Mercieca and Stephen Oliver – burst onto the stage with every character and kept me hooked on every gag they played. The compatibility bet­ween these actors was astronomical and so delightful to experience.

At the interval, I stayed in the theatre, jotting down notes to make sure that I could capture my feelings. I overheard some audience members discussing the comedy and how they kept themselves from laughing out of ‘incivility’.

I can’t help but reflect on the stupid notion that laughing was something ‘uncivil’ to do. In fact, I heard their attempts to avoid tittering at Edward Mercieca cross-dressing as a headstrong Scottish innkeeper while badgering Stephen Oliver as the spindly husband wearing a stereo­typi­cal ginger wig and tammy. To the Maltese audience, I say: unclench your jaws and live a little; you might find life more enjoyable.

Edward Mercieca

As I stepped out into the night, still smiling from ear to ear, I couldn’t help but appreciate the endurance and discipline one needs for comic acting. I could have watched this production again the next day and still laughed at the gags.

In fact, I selfishly wish there were another weekend of performances to do so. It is a testament to the actors’ stamina onstage and the talent and dedication of the production team that entertained me so effortlessly; compliments to the actors, the production, and the director for taking us on a screwball journey across 1930s Britain.