Best Western

One: people from Montana are easy to take the piss out of. They wear silly hats, talk silly talk and drink silly amounts of bourbon.

Two: stand-up comedians find it increasingly easy to draw audiences to their theatre productions. They make actors say funny things in funny situations.

But while Best Western does feature a pissed Montanan shooting at a television, and packs some intensely funny lines, the Montanan in question is by no means silly, and the situation, distinctly unfunny.

In fact, there's never any sense in which Hall plumbs the Pacific Northwest for easy laughs. The "howdy" above the door of the dilapidated motel sits well as an incidental detail and is funny without prodding at caricatures. Best Western isn't directed just towards jocularity, but delicately handles the virtually non-functional relationships of six oddly connected characters. Set against backdrops of decay – the dispossession of Del Vista's motel to make way for a freeway; the decline of Early Graves' health (ho ho) and of his ranch – the piece is truly dark matter.

Far more interesting than any daft hat is the adept handling of a number of interwoven strains. One well-wrought subtext involves the clever conceit of a television placed centre stage which serves all of the rooms. Using it as a focal point, Hall constantly contrasts the Jerry Springer-loving Ryvita with the television-shooting cowboy, Early. Edgy comedy ensues, though a serious point is made on the merits of being intimately connected or wholly disconnected from that shared output. Jerry does't have the answer here.

Certainly there are niggles: the English doctor is as wooden as the heels on Early Graves' particularly fetching ranch boots, and the costume choice for the character might be a Montana in-joke. But I didn't get it. Similarly, it's tough to know quite what to make of the slightly surreal relationship between Ryvita and Kehoe, the road planner. Still, it's a nice balance to Early's enigmatically poor relationship with his son, Toby and the continuum of odd alliances in between. And it's funny without resorting to yee-ha's.

Rich Hall isn't just a comedian showing off with a brief foray into theatre, rather, Best Western represents a thoughtful addition to the dramatic repertoire. It's meaty stuff – washed down with plenty of bourbon.