For comedy to ascend to the most sublime levels it has to contain elements of melancholy. It is that which gives it the light and shade that chimes with the reality of human experience. In the 1960s and ’70’s the Galton and Simpson sitcom Steptoe and Son delivered this in spades. Not only were they side-splittingly hilarious shows, the dysfunctional relationship between the father and son rag-and-bone merchants Albert and Harold Steptoe hinted at a bleakness of existence that bordered on tragedy. Because it was so very, very funny its essential sadness was understated and rather beautiful.

But that’s enough about the TV show – because if you are expecting a theatrical rehash of that bygone programme you will be disappointed. Instead the adventurous, and always exciting, theatre company Kneehigh (fondly remembered for their captivating production of Brief Encounter) have taken the scripts from four classic Steptoe episodes and created their own narrative arc. By weaving these ‘chapters’ into one show the melancholy notes are more profoundly felt, particularly so as you watch over and over again Harold’s unsuccessful attempts to escape his manipulative father. Nevertheless, the script is still very funny at times and the Oxford Playhouse audience lapped up the classic jokes as if they had been newly minted.

To create something of your own from these iconic characters must have been no small task for the actors, and Dean Nolan’s Harold and Mike Shepherd’s Albert are substantial and well-rounded. Eschewing the gurning, over-the-top ‘turns’ that made small-screen stars of Wilfrid Brambell and Harry H Corbett, Nolan and Shepherd’s emotional responses are far more poignant and serious. The third member of the cast, Kirsty Woodward, portrays a variety of women who play a significant part in the lives of the father and son. She does this expertly – giving each of these vignettes a real identity and vividity.

The production as a whole is woven together by Kneehigh’s trademark stylish theatricality, ingeniously incorporating movement, magic and music. There are some super singing and dancing interludes peppering the show that nicely echo the era in which it is set. This is juxtaposed with a score and sound by Simon Baker that is contemporary and very evocative.

The staging is superb. The set, designed by Neil Murray, is a beautifully shabby cornucopia, which cleverly allows for some ingenious stage business, while choreographer Etta Murfitt and director Emma Rice have expertly managed this two hours traffic of our stage with verve and wit.