Following on from the success last week of another of his plays, An Hour And A Half Late, Brighton audiences are now being offered a second example of French author Gerald Sibleyras' talent.

Whereas the previous work was a madcap whirlwind, this piece takes a gentle and bittersweet look at madness.

Set in a military hospital in 1959 it introduces us to the whimsical world of three of its elderly inmates - all victims of the First World War.

There is Henri with a gammy leg; Gustave, forever trying to gain leadership within the group yet terrified to step beyond the hospital gates; and there is Philippe, with shrapnel in his head and blacking out with increasing frequency.

This strange alliance, resembling a cerebral version of the trio from Last Of The Summer Wine, live out their days on a terrace they have laid claim to and are prepared to defend from encroachment by other residents.

From here they have a splendid view of a distant hilltop crowned with poplar trees which take on a mystique that becomes obsessive.

It is their plan to escape from the hospital to reach the trees which forms the main part of the play.

Like their literary counterparts Chekov's Three Sisters and their yearnings to escape to Moscow, they are doomed to failure.

The tone of the play may be Chekovian in spirit but it contains more laughs. It is full of witty one-liners which are a sheer delight.

In a discussion about which is the hardest thing to do - to make a woman laugh or climax - a character laments that it is extremely difficult to achieve both at the same time.

The cast of three do full justice to the translation by Tom Stoppard.

Christopher Timothy shines as Gustave, whose cantankerous exterior is a mask for his terror of the outside world, while Art Malik evokes sympathy as well as laughs for the hallucinations he suffers from.

There is particular enjoyment to be gained from the performance of Michael Jayston, whose doleful countenance provides some wonderful comic dumb play.