As the title of Chestnuts 15 proudly proclaims, this holiday season marks its 15th anniversary since the production's beginnings as the once-off madcap Christmas show Hark the Jingle Red-Nosed Chestnuts in 1996. Fortunately for posterity, this decade-and-a-half celebration show is a certifiable hit. I've attended the show regularly since Forbidden Chestnuts in 2006, and I can state without doubt that this was one of the best editions I've seen, matched only by 2008's Chesty Nutty Bang Bang, which our site awarded a rare five-star rating.

For your pleasure and mine, I'll describe some of the brilliant new acts. A mini-musical titled "Into the Booths" references the recent elections, spoofing tunes from both Into the Woods and Wicked: Defying Gravity thus becomes the surprisingly rousing political song Defying PAP. Following a much-loved appearance in Chestnuts 3D, lovable airhead Ivory Low Ai Kiu makes a return, promoting a new Siri-like iPhone app that only recognises Singlish commands: a demo that naturally requires audience interaction. And who could forget The Merlion King, Stages' uniquely Singaporean take on The Lion King, boasting construction crane puppets instead of giraffes and Tiger beer logos instead of leopards. The closing scene is inspired: Simba marries The Little Mermaid's Ariel and sires a genuine merlion.

Great sketches from Chestnuts' past are also in abundance: an absurdist conversation between The Matrix's Neo and an SMRT official, a Hokkien getai rendition of Rihanna's Umbrella, plus two zany parodies of the Japanese horror movie Death Note. Reruns have been part of Chestnuts for as long as I've been watching – the company calls them the "Chestnuts Ten Year Series" – but usually they're only featured when they have thematic resonance with new acts in the show. This time round it's an anachronistic free-for-all: as long as it's funny and hasn't been performed too recently, it's in. You could argue that too many scenes are recycled (11 out of a total of 27 acts, by my count, though the original acts tend to be longer in form). Still, given how much pleasure these oldies gave the audience, I can't say I object.

But the show's improvement isn't just due to the reruns. Nor is it only because 2011 was such a fruitful year for satire in Singapore, what with two sets of elections, flooding and MRT breakdowns. The key reasons behind this year's success are much less glib, and far more instructive as to the formulas for good comedy.

First, there's something special about this ensemble. Director / playwright / performer Jonathan Lim has been there from the beginning, while Rodney Oliveiro and Judy Ngo have earned their stripes as his comedy partners since '06 (though Ngo's involvement has admittedly been a trifle irregular). Dwayne Lau and Judee Tan first had cameos in '09's Chestnuts Does Christmas Like a Hard Candy Virgin, and instantly won the audience over with their charisma, stage presence and eye-popping singing abilities, moving on to participate as full ensemble members in '10's Chestnuts 3D. This is the first time all five are being featured together in the same show, but they've already established chemistry with one another from previous editions, and their talents are proving to be marvelously complementary. (It doesn't hurt that Lim forces his stagehands to become talk show walk-ons and backup dancers now and then – given the exuberant style of Chestnuts comedy, the more folks on stage, the merrier.)

Second, Lim's been pretty tactical about his parodies this time round. I'd expressed consternation with the lengthy Glee / Nightmare on Elm Street parody in Chestnuts 3D, because I wasn't familiar with either of these pop culture phenomena. This time, it looks like he's trying to avoid alienating audiences who lack insider knowledge. For instance, you don't have to have watched Dream Academy's Into the Woods to enjoy the political commentary of "Into the Booths". Nor need you have seen any of the other top plays of the year to laugh at the gags in "Singapore Theatre in Ten", as so much of the comedy comes from farcically recurring jokes: actress Siti Khalijah donning her tudung in Gemuk Girls and Nadirah (and, incongruously, Charged); actress Karen Tan struggling to play every single role in To Whom It May Concern (and, incongruously, Family Outing and Aladdin). Lim does, however, include a drawn-out parody of the local movie 23:59 that depends heavily on references to the film – and I'm afraid to say this was one of the weakest of his skits.

Third, there's been a general uptick in production values. The most visible improvement is in the projections: in between acts when everyone's changing costumes, Lim loves to show the audience pre-recorded gags, often in the form of fake advertisements or movie trailers. Previously, the visuals for these have been fairly simple in terms of typeface and layout, but this time round, we had rococo fonts for the "Singapore Symphony Orchestra plays the best of Nokia ringtunes" gag; we had a gorgeous Photoshopped image of disgraced SMRT CEO Saw Phaik Hwa on the Saw horror movie poster. These aren't the only technical changes: after the show crew members confessed to me that the number of tech cues had multiplied several times since the previous editions. From where I was sitting, I could pick out several of these to be impressed by: the followspot that managed to turn Tan's face green whenever she appeared as the wicked witch, and the marvelous echo effect on her voice in her first appearance as a pontianak.

There are, as always, a few stale acts. I don't care much for the "Amy and Ah Mee Show" segment, featuring poker-faced MDA censor Amy Chua and monotone-voiced Returning Officer Yam Ah Mee as talk show hosts – playing stiffness against stiffness just doesn't tickle one's ribs. The Yam Ah Mee / The King's Speech crossover doesn't do anything for me either.

What's more troubling is the fact that the show evidently wasn't ready on opening night. Straits Times critic Akshita Nanda watched that Thursday, and though she gave an overall thumbs-up, half of her review to complaining about the show being "overly long and patchy", besieged by unprofessional behaviour such as an actress laughing at her own jokes. I viewed the piece 48 hours later on Saturday, and witnessed none of these problems: energy was high and the mood of jolliment was sustained throughout the show. Perhaps Lim should adopt the tactics of W!ld Rice pantomimes, and advertise his first two shows as "sneak previews", selling tickets at lower prices due to his work still being in progress.

I'd like to offer two last thoughts before I close this review. One is that Lim is getting better at closing his performances with a bang. The first half of the night was brought to a splendid finale with the crew marching on stage to join the fake Malay-Korean boy band 3MM in synchronised dance. The second half ended with the "Merlion King" sketch, which certainly had enough spectacle to draw the evening to a close, and yet we the audience were still caught unprepared by the curtain call – perhaps a simple voiceover announcing that this is the last skit would do the job.

My second thought is that I'm glad, terribly glad, that Chestnuts is still up and running, driven not only by passion for performance but also by a desire to speak to a very specific audience. Lim's imitators – Hossan Leong with his Hossan Leong Show and Irene Ang with her V Club – aren't usually as good, but they break even by targeting a wide, often corporate audience. Not Lim: he unwaveringly aims to entertain people who're deeply invested in the theatre and arts scene, and somehow, he's managed to get popular.

To illustrate this, I'll describe one last skit from iChestnuts 15. It's a parody of Cee Lo Green's Fuck You, featuring Lim as NAC CEO Benson Puah. He croons "Fund You", as he outlines the Council's willingness to cut funding to theatre groups as a form of censorship, surrounded by dancing emblems of the Esplanade and Victoria Theatre. Laughter during this scene seemed rather subdued when I attended; indeed, many in the audience may have found the joke too esoteric, and a dramaturg might well advise the scene to be cut. Still, as a person who cares about free speech in the arts, I heartily approve. It's a moment when Lim stands up to declare what he believes in, dressed up in a manner that displays the height of his wit and talent. It's proof that he's more than just a funnyman: he's an artist of integrity.

Fifteen years is a long time to keep a comedy revue going, and I hope Chestnuts continues for many more years to come. But can the team maintain the tip-top standards of this edition when the holiday season rolls round again? Stay tuned to find out. I know I will.