What about the judges, who effectively sentenced to death hundreds for purely political reasons?

The production aimed to make us sympathise with all of the characters in it at some time, and I feel it fully succeeded; skilfully allowing us to see the motives behind all their actions, and the humanity behind every character. It also very cleverly contrasted the political pressure the judges were under in Nazi Germany with that of the American judges by highlighting the similar pressures of the Cold War.

The production made use of the performance space ingeniously, with the auditorium set up like the seats in a court room – making us all feel very much included in the performance, and more deeply involved with the stories being performed in front of us. The set was adaptable and complex, and was suitably lavish for a court room; and the costumes were excellent and completely in keeping. The lighting was used to great effect, intensifying emotions where appropriate and helping with the fluid scene-changes. The play, though at times a little hard-going, had everything on its side and would be excellent for anyone interested in, not just the trials, but politics, rights or even simply what it is to be human.

Four judges on trial for their lives from March to December 1947 in one of the series of 13 tribunals held to bring to account the top Nazi war criminals. Judgment at Nuremberg playwright Abby Mann originally scripted the material as a late 50s TV drama, then as a 1961 star-studded film. He finally re-worked the material for the Broadway stage only in 2001.

The two central conundrums that Mr Mann has sought to examine in his text are: first, what weight of mitigation is appropriate for the defence that a man committing crimes against humanity was doing his duty and carrying out orders in peril of his own life. Second, if our four defendants were all sadistic monsters, then the atrocities of which they stand accused would have little more moral significance than, say, a tsunami. But if the trial suggests that under political and social pressure anyone can delude himself into committing the most heinous crimes, then the moral and political implications ask questions of every member of the audience.

The play addresses complex issues, then. And our student players face another challenge – the perennial one in respect of courtroom drama in any medium – that of how to inject life and movement into what is by its nature likely to be static and maybe didactic. With the film, United Artists addressed the problem in part by casting Spencer Tracy, Burt Lancaster and Richard Widmark in the lead; none of them method actors, but all noted for the intensity they could bring to a role.

The 30 plus students of Screw the Looking Glass company have met their challenge head-on with ambition and imagination in this large-scale show; all the more of a noble effort given that they have suffered the sad loss of one of their number. They have done him proud.

The seating area has been cut down so as to squeeze in the spacious, authentic detail of the courtroom set, full of dusty jurisprudence tomes and brass table lamps. Versatile use is made of the stark papier-mache backcloth, daubed with what might have been transcripts from earlier trials, or perhaps witness statements. It doubles as a screen for the contemporary newsreels that flash up to give a period feel. Music comes from Wagner’s Meistersingers of Nuremberg – what else? -  and then from Tristan. The lighting dims in sinister fashion for moments of intensity.

Mr Mann is often more at home putting rhetorical speeches in the mouths of his characters rather than involving them in dramatic interplay. Not until more than an hour in does Presiding Judge Haywood (Jonathan Purkiss, growing into the part as the play goes on), a small town American largely out of his depth, burst out in exasperation: “What the hell happened in this country?”

Director Jessica Lazar has got solid ensemble performances from her cast, and in two cases stellar ones. I liked the scowling, fascist judge of Jonathan Tullett, Hannah Bristow as Frau Bertholt, struggling to make human contact with these foreign lawyers, and Charlie Hooper as Judge Janning, a mute, glowering presence until his powerful outburst of self-laceration. But the real pinnacle of the performances comes from Luke Rollason and James Colenutt. The former as Rolfe, a smooth but tormented defence counsel, easy in movement but quick to strike. The latter as Peterson, a working man from a Communist family who suffered forced sterilisation in consequence. The scene where Peterson, his body writhing this way and that as he strives to give his shocking evidence and yet retain his sanity under the probing cross-examination of the lawyer had the audience around me leaning forward intently in their seats, holding their breath. You could have heard a pin drop. Live theatre at its best.

Could either of these two young actors ever aspire to the level of a Spencer Tracy, Burt Lancaster or Richard Widmark? Stranger things have happened...