Out of order

A hotel room.
A window that should never be opened.
A politician who believes he can control everything — words, people, circumstances, even the truth.

In Out of order, Ray Cooney transforms a secret rendezvous into a perfectly engineered mechanism of chaos. Every lie gives birth to another lie, every attempt at rescue leads to an even greater disaster, and every effort to restore order sends the world further out of control.

Beneath the apparent lightness of the farce lies a mercilessly precise view of human vanity — the fear of being exposed, the desire to appear respectable when everything around you has already fallen apart. The characters flee from the truth with desperate ingenuity, but, as always in great comedy, the truth finds a way in. Through the door. Or through the window.

Out of order is a comedy about power, double lives and the fragile façade of respectability — a production in which laughter comes not only from the situation itself, but from the unsettling recognition of people caught in the traps of their own excuses.