It should have been called The Old Kevin Gauntlett Show for, in addition to being an admirable chairman, in the usual convoluted and grammatically strangulated fashion, he also performed in group and solo items.

He was a master at audience control, had a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and delivered the oldest jokes with aplomb. (“What is an occasional table used for at other times?”; “I bought this suit for a ridiculous figure.”)

The cast of 23 were a talented bunch, whose chorus work was quick, slick and chic. How they found time to rehearse during the run of Sweeney Todd, which they performed each evening last week, suggested a devotion above and beyond.

Howard James gave us Stanley Holloway’s Albert and the Lion. I would have preferred it slower, but then time’s a’ pressing.

I think the society has a real find in George Tormann, who can sing, is young and dashingly handsome. The duct with soprano Jane Barnes was for me a highlight. How well they sung together; shades of Anne Ziegler and Webster Booth.

I know it is usually performed in the panto season. but the rendition of If I Was Not Upon The Stage Something Else I’d Like To Be was the funniest I have ever seen, and riotously brought the curtain down to end the first half.

Jo Tormann sang Waiting At The Church, dressed in virginal white with a protuberance. In Victorian times, white would have been out, but we joined in because we knew the words.

Sarah Freestone gave us a modern Red Riding Hood, and I delighted in the sophisticated lyrics.

There were many good things: mature Stan Hull’s seaside song, replete with appropriate beachwear; Robert Faint’s delightful short rendition on ambition; and Jacqui Morris, whose Tra-la-la seemed to have a significance beyond words.

Steven Day played the pianoforte as if it was much younger. I liked his style, unobtrusive, but helpful.

And we ended a pleasant, entertaining afternoon by singing the usual old favourites.

In the meantime, however, we are lucky to have groups such as Wickham Stagers with the skill and will to recreate the atmosphere. It was a tribute to the team that they were able to transport the audience back a hundred years to the gaslit era even in the modern setting of the Churchill Theatre.

The Master of Ceremonies is crucial to the success of Old Time Music Hall and the team could not have chosen better than the irrepressible Kevin Gauntlett. He introduced some performers with almost mock sycophancy, others with barely disguised disdain, always in the best alliteration strewn tradition of the genre. He also somehow managed to take part in some of the acts as well as telling some suitably excruciating jokes plundered from the archives.

The other, less high profile but equally key, lynch­pin was pianist David Grubb who had very little respite from beginning to end and who helped the vocalists back on track when necessary.

Although many old favourite numbers were there, the team kept the show fresh by including several lessknown but worthwhile pieces.

As the show was performed during the run of Kentish Opera’s production of Manon Lescaut, the Stagers had to work around the existing set. They did this to good advantage, making effective use of its levels and entrances. It was apparent from the quality of much of the singing and presentation that many of the performers had solid experience in lead or character roles in musical comedy.

Whilst the programme was, generally, well balanced there was scope to intersperse one or two more comedy sketches or, perhaps, even a conjuring turn at the expense of some musical numbers.

Audience participation is almost compulsory in Old Time Music Hall and the words of several songs were printed in the programme; unfortunately the house lights weren’t turned on to make it possible to read them.