Taking Off at SkyCity Theatre

At his best, Roger Hall creates comedy in which acute observation generates the exhilarating humour that arises out of self-recognition. We laugh with characters whose experience is often uncomfortably close to our own.

Taking Off, by contrast, flatters a sophisticated theatre audience by inviting them to laugh at the wide-eyed naivety of characters who obsessively collect souvenir tea towels and are unable to pronounce French place names.

The play is a well-crafted and witty entertainment that satirises a number of safe targets - airline food, grungy bedsits, posh English accents, vegans, and avant-garde theatre at the Edinburgh Fringe.

The characters are clearly drawn, recognisable types and the play delivers a finely honed collection of travel stories. As the narrative moves towards its determinedly upbeat ending, the intention to reach a meaningful resolution yields to the pleasures provided by another round of amusing anecdotes. Rather like a punter trying to find his way out SkyCity, there are so many impediments to a clean exit that it's easier to stick with the pokies.

Hall has consistently demonstrated a surefire instinct for pleasing his audience, and if there are any shortcomings in the writing they were more than compensated for by fine performances from a cast of superb comic actors.

Fiona Samuel plays an aspiring writer who narrates her adventures in the form of an unfolding novel. This device is enlivened by her ability to jump into the speech patterns of a number of minor characters. She perfectly captures the intonation of a boorish British publican and the awkward mutterings of her gormless son.

Samuel also brings a refined sense of the absurd, most notably when she dispenses with her character's realistic narrative and throws herself into a wildly imagined encounter with an American cyclist.

Jennifer Ludlam, playing a somewhat maudlin character, gave a performance that was infused with an appealing and inventive sense of irony. Her wonderfully flexible eyebrows and perfectly timed inflection allowed her to draw huge laughs from the most subtle actions.

Alison Quigan captures the essence of her deeply inhibited character through consummate use of physical gestures, crossing the stage with brisk strides and stiffening her posture whenever pushed out of her comfort zone. On visiting an Irish pub, her sense of decorum hilariously disintegrates as her feet are seduced by the irresistible rhythms of an Irish jig.

Annie Whittle brings unflagging energy to her portrayal of a desperately optimistic schoolteacher who is seeking escape from a loveless marriage.

Her incessant phone calls to friends back in New Zealand brilliantly evoke the horror of listening to travellers who are compelled to relate the most banal details of their exotic experiences.

John Callen's lively direction makes good use of the actors' talents for physical theatre, and he punctuates the monologues with some shrewdly choreographed moments in which the actors come together as an ironic chorus.