Part of the reason Reservoir Dogs worked was because Quentin Tarantino focused on a classic element of any heist movie – the moment the gang gets together and divides the loot.

Similarly Julian Poidevin’s three-hander examined a staple of the gangster movie – the mob hit, or rather the moments before, when the victim accepts his life is over.

Told in real time, Frank Sent Me began innocently enough as a gay couple gently bickered - until the audience became aware one character, Howe, was dressing in the last suit he would ever wear.

But when young and inexperienced hitman Blake appeared everything spun into a whole other dimension, and the laughs began to hit home.

Poidevin’s script painted a perfect picture of the world the characters lived in, whether it was through Howe’s dark stories of past hits, the gallery of unseen criminals or the brilliant observations – such as Wallace’s suggestions of the small talk one should make when being driven to one’s death (apparently everyone loves Masterchef).

And Peter Darney’s direction ensured the timing between the three was spot on, as Blake’s ineptness and nerves spilled out (literally) among a flurry of sideways glances, finely tuned body language and occasional out-and-out farce.

Four stars