Archie Rice doesn’t just play an old music hall act, he is one.

In a stunning production at the Brighton Little Theatre, Anthony Edwards demonstrates that Archie is a sweet with the wrapper on.

Inside is a charismatic entertainer with a taste for draught Bass, the morals of an alley cat and the style of Max Miller.

He’s the son of his father Billy, a ranting fascist wonderfully brought to gin and life by David Stephens, the husband of Phoebe to whom Barbara Isaacs brings a plaintive feistiness and the father of Jean, played by Kerry Williams.

Williams nicely manages to belong to the appalling Rices but yet remain something different – her own troubles can never compete with the riotous theatricality of a family born on stage.

The play dates from 1957 but human nature remains curiously constant.

Archie’s struggles to survive the changing times, his relationship with his father, his second wife and his children, especially the educated Jean, have echoes in any age.

Anthony Edwards charms and horrifies simultaneously: he holds the stage magnificently as he alters before our very eyes.

Did anyone mention Laurence Olivier? His laurels have competition.