Moliere's satirical attack on the medical profession as a bunch of money-grabbing charlatans is a gift to 21st-century adaptors wanting to prod the tender parts of the National Health Service.

No matter that Moliere lived in the 17th century. Arrogance and hypocrisy are ills that transcend the centuries.

However, I thinkMoliere’s message is clear enough to reach today’s audiences without the artifices introduced in this production, adapted by Richard Bean.

We had three musicians in scrubs and a singer, variously in rock garb or svelte tuxedo, performing a front-of-curtain prelude to each act, with words pertaining to bodily functions and afflictions in lurid detail.

While the third and final song did deal with hypochondria, the subject of the play, and was genuinely funny, the rest seemed to saying, ‘can we shock you with our vulgarity?’ Clearly some members of the audience were either shocked or simply unimpressed because they failed to return after the interval, which was a shame, because this was a superb cast, putting a spin on the original but keeping its integrity.

There were one-liners which I don’t believe were Moliere’s, such as “With friends like that, who needs an enema?”

That needs to be heard in context, but it was delivered with magnificent deadpan by Michael Thomas, as Beralde, brother of Argan the eponymous Hypochondriac.

The title role was relished by Tony Robinson whose sense of mischief was more than matched by Tracie Bennett as his feisty maid. Imogen Stubbs displayed mercurial emotional switches as the gold-digging wife.

Lisa Diveney with Jordan Metcalfe injected plenty of comedy into their star-crossed romance.

The production is energetic and robust.