“It is s...,” bellows Marc nearly apoplectic, in the first few minutes of Yasmina Reza’s Art. His outburst is at the sight of the white on white painting his friend Serge has been gullible enough to shell out €200,000 on, (in Marc’s not-so humble opinion) on the grounds it’s the handiwork of some modernist bigwig.

He’s clearly been taken for a ride, so why can’t he just admit it? Sadly for Serge and their other pal Yvan, Marc just won’t let it go.

This all-in-all minor disagreement on a simple white canvas sparks an almighty chain reaction of recriminations, repressed jealousies, and decades-worth of gripes, which threatens to tear apart the trio’s seemingly rock-solid 25-year friendship.

As Reza’s deliciously biting and maddeningly relatable plot unfolds, their prejudices and assumptions about the power dynamic of their relationship are laid bare, steadily chipping away at the very foundation of their friendship and loyalty.

Serge refuses to bow down to Marc’s view that the modernist painting is just pretentious tosh. Caught up in their tug-of-war, a perennially non-committal Yvan is determined not to get involved or take sides, only incurring the ire of both his friends.

Throughout the terrible trio are simply flawless. Denis Lawson is every bit the snob, though he deftly reveals glimmers of vulnerability as Marc is confronted with the stark realisation Serge may not be the adoring ‘mentee’ he believed him to be – and left to wrangle with the sheer violence of his (over)reaction to the painting.

Ironically, for all his pontificating about the inherent soullessness of modern art and insistence the white canvas can't possibly elicit any emotion, Marc is positively incensed by it. Just one look sends him into a tizzy.

Nigel Havers is utterly believable and delightfully mischievous as Serge.

While Lawson and Havers hit the mark, Stephen Tompkinson truly stands out as Yvan, the accidental referee (and scapegoat) of the friendship group, who is dragged down from his comfortable fence and forced at long last to grow a backbone and stand up for himself – to his pals’ utter dismay. His frenetic monologue is one of the best pieces of theatre I have witnessed.

Famously suspicious of laughter (as a hallmark of subpar light-hearted boulevard theatre), Reza was reportedly baffled when Art won the Olivier for Best Comedy, arguing it was in fact a “funny tragedy”. She would certainly have been unsettled by audiences deafening bouts of laughter on Monday night. Though no-one could accuse Art of being trite or facile. This is comedy at its sharpest: complex, shrewd and supremely enjoyable.

Art runs at the Theatre Royal Bath until Saturday, May 12. - Marion Sauvebois