Out in Fyshwick the Canberra Academy of Dramatic Art has constructed a very serviceable small theatre in a warehouse space. Its roughness suits Limbo Theatre’s production of Dario Fo’s anarchic satire on police and politics very well and a small cast under Clare Moss’s direction go at it with loads of energy.

Limbo has been set up to extend performance opportunities for CADA’s graduates and students and Accidental Death of an Anarchist is not a bad choice.

Fo’s 1970 play is based on the suspicious death in custody of Giuseppe Pinelli, an Italian anarchist and railway worker hauled in by the police after a 1969 bombing in Milan that left 17 dead and 88 injured. Did he fall from a fourth floor window or was he pushed? Accidental Death of an Anarchist tells a similar story and explores the possibilities in a sardonic knock-about comedy that draws upon the traditions of commedia dell’arte.

And that’s the problem for the performers really. What’s required is a grasp of a style that looks simple but which asks for a sustained energy and timing and connection with the audience that is harder than it looks. Think the Marx Brothers at their best with a deep political edge.

It all happens in the cop shop where Inspector Bertozzo (Nick Steain) and a somewhat dim constable (Anneka van der Velde) are trying to interrogate the Maniac (Hayden Splitt) on a floor below that where the "accidental" death took place. The Maniac is a not-so-mad trickster who takes on various disguises and who, when the action moves upstairs to the fatal fourth floor, pretends to be the judge who has come to investigate the death.

This sends Inspector Pissani (Izaac Beach), the Superintendent (Damon Baudin) and another not-so-bright constable (van der Velde again) into convolutions of explanations, none of which are altogether convincing. A reporter, Feletti (Imogene Irvine) arrives, looking for the story. A bomb and some final alternative moral choices confront the characters and the audience.

This needs to go with pace from the beginning but takes a long time to get up to some speed and clarity. Splitt is the most successful at the necessary style, connecting increasingly with the audience and nicely controlling the ambiguities of the ending.

The door in Sam Wilde’s functional set withstands vigorous flinging open and slamming shut as the farce quickens toward the end. The fourth floor window takes on a sinister presence. The location of truth becomes harder to find.

It’s somewhat depressing to realise that nearly 50 years on Accidental Death of an Anarchist retains its relevance.