For its The 39 Steps at the O'Reilly Theatre, Inspired Productions has got away from John Buchan's original 1915 novel in favour of the Hitchcockian film treatment of 1935, and stretched the time-line further by locating itself in the 1950s with song (Strangers in the Night was a leitmotif), jiving and quick-step, and North-of-the-Border atmosphere.

Director Antonia Hansen and her crew have crammed their smallish playing area with a pot-pourri of thriller, road – or rather train – movie, rollicking comedy and relaxed social satire that consistently thrills and stimulates. There's strong evidence of imaginative intelligence at every point of the staging: the players spill naturally into the audience space, up into the gallery and very effectively behind the illuminated backcloth. The design and deployment by Matilda Granger and assistants of stage props - ladder, piles of crates, signs of all sorts - together with super-slick scene changes, were, bar none, the most professional I've seen on a student stage.

The direction of the actors by Antonia Hansen was subtly managed, and her attention to detail in aspects great and small of the production was remarkable. The early murder shock, the choice of a luridly-covered copy of The 39 Steps as Pamela's reading material aboard the train, Mozart's Requiem quietly playing while the crofter said grace, the complex, prolonged byplay with handcuffs, the staging of Hannay's blustering soliloquy at the political meeting, even the tiny snatch of birdsong when our reluctant couple woke up in their hotel room; all these things and a dozen others betokened detailed, collaborative planning. The lighting design by Seb Dows-Miller, amusingly improvised costumes (Francesca Salisbury), evocative sound effects – all added gold-plated value. If the pace slowed a bit after the interval, and the hotel bedroom scene could have been cut by five minutes, these are minor blemishes, and in any case derive from Patrick Barlow's adaptation.

Benedict Turvill, whom I last saw in A Winter's Tale as Polixenes and before that in Julius Caesar, as Richard Hannay put on a performance of almost heroic quality in a dual sense; ever-present on stage, he carried off perfectly the dichotomy of, on the one hand, every inch the suave gent attempting to lord it over clodhopping policemen and fend off boorish train travellers, while simultaneously portraying an everyman caught up in events beyond his control and his wildest dreams. This is in the true traditions of farce where normal logic and sense are trumped by zany happenstance, and transformed into a kind of formulaic logic and sense operating to different rules. Mr Turvill's energy, both artistic and purely physical, was remarkable, the concentration he put into his reaction acting intense, and his command of his daft repartee was a delight:

"The Commissioner of Police is my Uncle Bob!"

"Oh, Bob's your uncle?"

The other four players backed up Mr Turvill to the hilt by the zest with which they grabbed their juicy multi-roles and ran with them. Miranda Mackay directed an excellent Henry IV pt. I back in May 2017, and here she was, among other roles, now a stickily-ending agent with convincing Mittel-European accent, now a vocally-challenged political meeting organizer. Carlo QC wheedled and squawked in the most extreme Scottish accent to be found lurking in the glens both south and north of Drumnadrochit, when he wasn't a bra-toting salesman aboard the Edinburgh Express, or the cross-gender, slinky wife of a dodgy Scottish gentleman. Jon Berry, who was the best thing about last term's Three Parallel Places, joined his colleague in switching on a sixpence, sometimes in mid-speech, between braying music hall barker, bumbling constable and obsequious hotelier.

The precision of complicated movement, often in a tiny space, was extraordinary, especially given the short rehearsal time. As Pamela, the often bewildered and put-upon object of Hannay's convenience and desire, Teddy Briggs was early on a little stiff in voice and posture in this tricky part where she's often called upon to react to the madness of others, but later she began to move and emote more freely. Given the way she came on strongly at the end, she will for sure gain confidence as the week's shows roll on.

The 39 Steps is an intriguing venture for a student production – apparently small in scale, yet actually super-ambitious in the challenges it takes on and triumphantly surmounts. It has no axe to grind, serves up great dollops of pure fun, and demands to be seen.

Sometimes, as Richard Hanney would almost certainly tell you, a little risk is a very good thing. The cast and crew of this student production didn't play it safe with their performance of John Buchan's The 39 Steps; the result was a high-energy, hilarious night that took the play's tongue-in-cheek spy-thriller premise and quite literally ran with it, as far and as fast as it possibly could.

With five actors playing 150 roles, The 39 Steps is a challenge for professionals, let alone an amateur group - but the cast carried it off brilliantly. Benedict Turvell and Teddy Briggs made a pitch-perfect Richard Hannay and Pamela, moving through the rapidly-changing scenes with no missteps (except when the script called for it). The three remaining members of the cast, Miranda Mackay, Carlo QC and Jon Berry, were jaw-droppingly good as the play's other 148 characters, often switching between several during the same scene. With silly costumes, sillier voices, and over-the-top physical comedy, their performances were cartoonish in the best possible way, and had the audience (and often other members of the cast) laughing throughout.

The O'Reilly Theatre is a small, intimate space, and the play made the most of this, using a minimal set made up of a sheet at the back, some crates, a couple of chairs, and a ladder. Sitting down at the front, I was so close to the action that it was easy to feel part of the performance, particularly in the play's theatre scenes. Special effects were simple, but expertly done - music and shadows behind the curtain gave the impression of a party, while the crew brought out a huge fan to simulate the rushing wind during the scene when Hanney has to jump off of a moving train.

No potential comic moment was wasted - even the props got a laugh from the audience, such as when Hannay brought a supermarket packet of haddock out of a crate to feed his unexpected guest. The performance had a strong The Play That Goes Wrong vibe, by way of The League of Gentlemen - ridiculous, over the top, and extremely funny. My main criticism wasn't to do with the play at all, but the post-performance section - the crew were so integral to the success of the night that I would have liked to see them take a bow alongside the five actors.

If you like spy stories, murder mysteries, and a bit (or a lot) of silliness, this performance of The 39 Steps will not disappoint. Draw on a pencil moustache and, like Richard Hannay, head down to the theatre - just try not to get involved in any international conspiracies along the way.