John Guare’s 1990 stage (and later film) success Six Degrees of Separation is witty, incident-packed and utterly gripping throughout the 90 minutes it plays, without interval, across the wide, all but empty vista of the Old Vic stage. The action occurs on a revolve within a colourful semi-circle supplied in Jonathan Fensom’s painterly design which, with the double-sided Kandinsky picture suspended above it, suggests an arty and moneyed milieu.

This is the New York apartment of upper-crust art dealer Flan (Anthony Head, pictured) and his money-grubbing missus Ouisa (Lesley Manville), his partner in business as in life. Tonight is an important one for them. Overstretched financially in these straitened times (a circumstance that lends a contemporary relevance to this sprightly revival under director David Grindley), they must persuade a rich South African friend Geoffrey (Ian Redford) to stump up $2m to help buy a Cezanne they plan to sell, at vast profit, to a Japanese collector.

They are on the point of departing for the restaurant dinner at which, it is hoped, the deal will be struck when the plan is put on hold by the sudden arrival at the flat of a young black man, Paul (Obi Abili, pictured). He claims, first, to have been the victim of a mugging, second to be a university friend of Flan and Ouisa’s children, and third to be the son of actor Sidney Poitier. His claims are accepted by the others present, who are utterly charmed by the young man – as delighted by his offer of small parts for them all in dad’s forthcoming movie of Cats (the play has much to say on celebrity culture) as by the delicious dinner he prepares as an alternative to the restaurant date. Of course, he must stay the night . . .

This is when he blots his copybook, making use of the $50 sub he has been given for emergencies to supply himself with a rent boy. The full frontal cavortings they indulge in clearly surprised many around me in the stalls. I hardly imagine that Kevin Kiely, who plays the imported hustler, foresaw at his drama school that he would be making his professional debut wearing only a condom.

The early-morning coupling in their daughter’s bedroom shows Paul’s hosts that he is far from being the charmer he had seemed. Further evidence that he is a bad hat soon comes from his similar irruptions into the lives of two of the art dealers’ friends, the WASP Dr Fine (Stephen Greif) and the canny – but not this time – Jewish lawyer Larkin (Steven Pacey).

There is a particularly good comic turn from Paul Stocker as the latter’s son, incredulous at pop’s credulity. Other student offspring of the deceived professionals figure in the piece which, despite its brevity, seems in these days of incident-lite drama to offer enough plot for three or four plays. An affecting episode involves a pair of out-of-town youngsters, Rick (Luke Neal) and Elizabeth (Sarah Goldberg) – he more gullible than she – who also suffer at the hands of smooth-talking Paul.

Performances across the large cast are all of a high standard. I particularly enjoyed Lesley Manville’s beautifully spoken Ouisa, who despite everything comes to feel more than a soft-spot for the gay deceiver. She gets to utter the play’s most famous lines which begin: “I read somewhere that everybody on this planet is separated by only six other people. Six degrees of separation between us and everyone else on this planet.”

I can’t say I understood the philosophy. But it sounded good.

Until April 3. For bookings, telephone: 0844 871 7628 (www.oldvictheatre.com).