Casual Violence's The House of Nostril @ The Lowry, Salford

Whatever you’re doing right now, stop it. (Apart from reading this, of course, but that coffee you’re stirring, that can go. That’s not important.) Go and Google ‘Casual Violence,’ watch their sketches and enjoy. This comedy troupe are dark, twisted and superb.

They’ve come to Manchester as part of the Developed With scheme at The Lowry, which supports various theatre companies every year and gives them the space and resources to put on productions at the Salford theatre. A great platform, no doubt, and Casual Violence’s results are quite remarkable.

The House of Nostril tells the bizarre tale of the Nostril family and the various inhabitants of their large, Victorian mansion. This includes some chimney sweeps, a butler called Spindleshanks, a collection of taxidermied relatives and the Nostril family’s put-upon youngest son Charlie, who really doesn’t want anything to do with his father’s crazy schemes. The crazy scheme in question is a wish to dismantle Amnesty International with Voodoo magic. No, I don’t know how they thought of it either.

It’s a delightfully odd premise and Casual Violence are just perfect at forming addictive, lively and utterly ridiculous characters. Not to mention the onstage musician, Ben Champion, with his keyboards and strange accordion thing, who gives proceedings an old-fashioned music hall feel. We’re taken through each layer of the house, with the help of a passive aggressive PowerPoint (“The next bit is in a greenhouse. You’re welcome.”), and yet the whole is so succinct and well-formed it could have been a film. It's tempting to say ‘Someone, please give them a TV show!’ because they really are so much funnier than most of the comedy one is subjected to on TV, but they felt so complete and comfortable onstage that a screen would ruin it.

James Hamilton, the writer and creator, needs to be recognised for his startling ability to play an old man without the aid of any makeup or even carelessly drawn-on wrinkles. Alex Whyman is a wonderful mix of lovesick and Gordon Ramsey in his role as the Nostril’s official chef and Head Poison Tester. Luke Booys makes an addictive chimney-sweep. And the combination of Dave Newman and Greg Cranness proves that slapstick and buckets of strange white stuff (moisturiser? mayonnaise?) can be intelligent.

It’s a world of lampshades worn on heads, clever jokes, and the right amount of corpsing. I urge everyone to look out for them; your kidneys will hurt from laughing.