Ah, the ’80s. It’s difficult to feel nostalgia for an era of greed, but the ’80s look positively quaint compared to the last decade and a half. It’s a timely revival, this attempt of the NT’s at Ayckbourn’s A Small Family Business, originally produced in 1987.

Jack McCracken (Nigel Lindsay) is an honest man who, along with various family members, runs the titular small family business. His youngest daughter Samantha (a suitably petulant Alice Sykes) has just been shoplifting, and a seedy private detective (a delightfully shabby Matthew Cottle) says that he will prosecute unless Jack gives him a job at the business. Jack sends him off, proclaiming his belief in honesty and integrity.

The other women in Jack’s life, wife Poppy (Debra Gillett) and daughter Tina (Rebecca McKinnis) berate Jack for what they deem excessive prudishness, and admit to other, minor crimes they have themselves committed. Jack then begins to discover other corruption at the business, involving his brother Cliff (an amusingly dimwitted Stephen Beckett), his brother-in-law Desmond (Neal Barry, hilariously pathetic) and their spouses, Anita (Niky Wardley) and Harriet (Amy Marston).

Niky Wardley’s Anita is a particular blowsy highlight, having affairs with a number of Italian brothers (all played by Gerard Monaco) and making the very most possible out of a meaty, fun part. Harriet is meant to be a foil to her, but I found the character so off-putting that I sympathised with Desmond’s plans for escape.

Nigel Lindsay plays Jack very well, strait-laced at the beginning but then with increasing desperation as he realises that his family are all in it up to their necks. He remains sympathetic throughout, which can’t be an easy line to walk. Debra Gillett’s Poppy is amusingly matter-of-fact about it all, as she points out that because of Jack’s honesty, they haven’t had the same standard of living as that of their friends and relatives.

Even though the references are dated (sometimes hilariously so), behind the laughs, a larger point is made. We pride ourselves on being a society without a great deal of corruption, but how honest are we really? The little fiddles, the tiny dodges, they all add up. Or perhaps it is not possible to have a society without some amount of corruption. This aspect of the play is as fresh now as it was in 1987.

The production itself is well done, with the Olivier’s stage used well, one generic house standing in for that of all the families. The costuming was a particular highlight. I remember those shoulder pads, those wrap dresses, those shiny fabrics. At least ’80s fashion was distinctive, unlike the incredibly dull ’90s.

Whilst a very professional production, well acted and thought-provoking, I did not find the laughs coming as frequently as I suspect they were intended to. Worth catching, but not unmissable.