The play features six characters, each disfunctional in their own way. There’s an ageing dominatrix, a cross-dressing dry cleaner, an obsessive-compulsive Irish cleaner, an endearing yet brain-damaged daughter, and Timothy Wong the incompetent Vietnamese Elvis impersonator.

This is a sitcom, so the first half introduces the characters and builds up the situation, whilst keeping the comedy going by aiming for “a joke every three lines”. It’s a tidy plot, but leaves us in suspense during interval when a presumed-dead second sister makes a dramatic entrance.

In the second half, all pretence of a plot evaporates and everything gets more and more bizarre as we witness the interplay of forces between these amazing characters. It’s rather arbitrary that the play’s title lists three characters, because all six should really share equal billing.

Suddenly it’s all over and we realise how involved we have been in the play, due in no small part to the total immersion by the actors in their parts.

The performance I attended ended with a standing ovation, the first I’ve encountered at the Dukes. To some extent, once the people in the front row have stood up, everyone else also has to stand up to watch the curtain-call – but I think the ovation was nevertheless genuine and heartfelt.

Incidentally, the sound was the best that I have ever experienced at the Dukes. Every word was crystal-clear, yet the amplification was completely unobtrusive. When I think of some of the poorly-audible shows I have seen, I really appreciate it when everything is spot-on.

Any downsides? Well, the final resolution of the situation is a little forced as the staid cleaner somewhat unconvincingly “lets her hair down” and goes wild, yet this is balanced by the warmth and love of life of Brenda-Marie, the simple-minded daughter.

Oh, and it’s really annoying that the staff habitually announce that they play will begin in three minutes, then that it will begin in one minute, when it usually takes another five.