A near inflexible rule of farce dictates that any dwelling or hotel in which the action is set must be equipped with almost as many doors as an Advent calendar. This certainly holds true for the Paris flat wherein occur the sexy highjinks of Boeing Boeing. An array of seven doors, set side by side into a semi-circle of white panelling, confronts the audience in Rob Howell’s stylish design as the curtain rises. Clearly, much enjoyable to-ing and fro-ing lies ahead.

It is almost always the case, too, that these portals must be presumed to be fitted with sound-muffling devices of the very highest specification. For how else could it be that any character who crosses the threshold into the room beyond – so often, of course, the bedroom beyond – is able to hear none of the shouts and screams, none of the panicky plotting, coming from the space he or she (almost always she, and phwoar, what a she!) has just, most fortuitously, vacated?

These Farceland homes, in truth, are not to be confused with any we come across in real life. No more, either, must we imagine the ribald conduct occurring within their walls to be other than the wildest flghts of fancy conceived by the playwright. In this case Frenchman Marc Camoletti came up with cheery nonsense enough to delight West End audiences for a record-busting seven years in the 1960s. Affectionately revived as the period piece it certainly is (such sexism!) under director Matthew Warchus, it has enjoyed success again in London and on Broadway, and is now delighting audiences on a provincial tour.

A good-quality cast, most of them well-known telly names, acts out the daft plot, which concerns a lecherous architect (Martin Marquez) who is able to conduct ongoing romances with three air stewardesses (remember those?) by ensuring that when one is with him two are always in the air – which, of course, for the purposes of our amusement he isn’t able to ensure at all. A good thing, then, that he has his cousin from Provence (for which, in terms of John Marquez’s accent, read Wales) to help sort matters out.

We get relishably over-the-top performances from Sarah Jayne Dunn as leggy Yank Gloria, Thaila Zucchi (pictured with Martin Marquez) as fiery Italian Gabriella and Josephine Butler as the fierce German, Gretchen. That the last actress shares a name with a saintly Victorian feminist campaigner brings a definite piquancy to the mucky antics on stage. Greatly adding to the fun is the performance of Coronation Street’s Susie Blake, as the much put-upon, and deliciously deadpan, cook and general skivvy.

Until Saturday. Box office: 0870 060 6652 (www.ambassadortickets.com/miltonkeynes).

Christopher Gray