Those of us who’ve seen more amateur productions of The Pirates of Penzance than you could shake a Jolly Roger at approach one-off professional versions with trepidation.

This is because much of the fun of the former derives from their endearing amateurishness and we wonder if there’s more to the Gilbert & Sullivan operetta than the sight of well-intentioned part-timers bumping into each other on stage.

But this production, which avoids the depressing campness of a lot of contemporary versions, introduces other qualities, making it musical, comical, visual and sometimes hysterical. Originally it was also satirical, though one struggles to see satire’s bite in it today, despite the image of Queen Victoria which descends on to the stage towards the end as a backdrop to the pirates’ surrender. Perhaps this is satire being satirised.

One of the funniest episodes occurs when the major-general’s daughters cram themselves into the family chapel, subverting the set designer’s illusion of commodious space. It’s a hoot, and typical of how director Martin Lloyd-Evans finds surreal ways of reinforcing the verbal hilarity, Musically the production’s a treat. Among a strong cast the leggiero tenor of Sam Furness as Frederic perfectly encapsulates the light touch of G&S as well as indicating where the music threatens to exhibit serious intent, especially in his main duet with Mabel, sung expressively by Rebecca Bottone. Rosie Aldridge is the dizzy mainstay of Ruth. Less impressive is the general’s patter song as sung by Savoyard veteran Richard Suart. It seemed rushed and incoherent, perhaps because of being over-choreographed or driven by conductor James Grossmith’s otherwise sparkling tempo. This is stand-and-deliver stuff. Graeme Broadbent’s police sergeant is pure John Cleese and Steven Page’s Pirate King a swashbuckler with a voice.

It’s all pure marshmallow, of course. But the essential wit can still raise a laugh when imagination triumphs over routine. Performances until July 20.