Tender Dearly is a 110-minute drama about alcoholism from a cast of 5 (2F, 3M). It's in two acts (60 min, 50 min) with a 20-minute interval.

Alcoholic 42 year-old former doctor Irvine (Liam McKenna) survived a car crash that killed his adulterous French wife Madeleine. He rules his own bar and bullies in particular staff-member alcoholic Phoebe (Alison Pargeter). Phoebe's former lover, folk-singing PhD student Euan (Damian Kell) wants to rescue her. Optimist bar-staff and aspiring singer Stephany (Kate Gillespie) observes all and fancies Euan. An anonymous Serb (Michael Klesic) drinks. Most of the action takes place in the bar. The set includes a horseshoe-shaped bar and its pub accessories, a barrel table, ancient sofa, and a small within-the-bar performance stage with stand-microphone and upright piano. There's a small sub-plot for the Serb - a ticket home. But home to what? There's a test for Phoebe. She's fucked to save a suicide before - her and Euan's friend Tom - which failed to save Tom and ended her relationship with Euan. Will she sacrifice the re-kindling of love with non-drinking Euan to save her fellow alcoholic, self-destructive Irvine?

Kate Gillespie blossoms through the grimy action as endearing Stephany. She puts elegance and a bright step into her characterisation which injects a small ray of sunshine into a subject which can't be anything but intensely distressing. Pretty Kate Gillespie's lovely voice shows in her songs. This includes making the best of the opening number, in which the composing is against her - it's a very, very dull song, to put it in the politest way - the only good thing about it being the graceful singer. Damian Kell gets the best out of handsome Euan, sober in all senses of the word. Euan is an impishly-written part - in one way too good, a kind of Bulldog Drummond of the teetotal-folk-singing-studying world, in another convincingly steadfast and true - and Damian Kell catches each of the nuances to deliver a rounded characterisation in a frisky performance that delights. And his piano-playing and singing are superb. Michael Klesic delivers barfly The Serb with a fine sense of the dry humour of the writing. The character has depth, and Michael Klesic catches the self-doubt and inner examination forced on the character by the prospect of going back to Serbia. His interpretation is sprinkled with sensitivity, and the suggestion of a gentle emotional core to the character - a warm heart.

Liam McKenna delivers rumbustious Irvine as a ruthless, nasty, vindictive bully. This is a complete bastard of a man, with no redeeming features. He is such an unpleasant character that there's an overwhelming desire to see him shot dead within a couple of minutes of his arrival - which is at the start of the play - rather than waiting for the slower process of him drinking himself to death. It's a brilliant performance, proving that a character does not need to evoke even a shred of sympathy to compel. This loathsome creature grips attention for the full 110 minutes, a remarkable tribute to the brilliance of Liam McKenna, whose power and charisma drive the part from start to finish. Alison Pargeter delivers Phoebe as a feeling person tottering between the three poles of a good man (Euan), a rotter (Irvine), and despising of herself. Her Phoebe cowers under Irvine's precisely-targeted cruelty, but springs out to prick the bull to shower more and different abuse on her head. There could be a sweetness to Phoebe, but Alison Pargeter subtly diverts this to sickness, so that the two inter-dependent alcoholics form an enclave of hopeless disease. Her inspired performance has an undercurrent of self-damaging humour which makes the character more distressing - the sense of what goodness has been permanently lost. Together these two remarkable actors create for their characters an enclosed world of mutually-feeding, self-imposed disease, rejecting the easy path of inviting the slightest compassion.

Alex Chisholm directs with a sharp eye for the pairings of characters at each part of the action. Her sense of what to show on stage at the same time and the relative placings of characters who are not quite part of the scene is compelling. Her direction helps direct attention to exactly who and what is important to follow in a complex script and staging. Designer Barney George delivers a delightful set whose functionality at the one hand, and sleaziness at the other feels exactly right. Lighting designer David Bennion-Pedley brings some powerful moods into the staging, especially in the half-dream sections. Sound Designer Martin Pickersgill does great scene linkages with trickling water clunking through ice cubes and horror-movie eerie music. Composer Demitris Zavros produces interesting music, not necessarily appealing to everyone - but they probably said that about Mozart. The same goes for Gavin MacDonald's original songs, one of which is played by Little Neemo. The cast's careful selection reflects the vision of casting director Kay Magson. There's clearly skilled stage management behind this production - the gifted work of Julie Issott and her colleagues.

Writer Jodie Marshall's Tender Dearly is not a play about optimism, which is refreshing. The real life of many people has little good, no happy ending, no over-arching justice, no redemption - for many people there is just sadness, not always entirely of their own doing. It's not often depicted in theatre which often, in the interests of the audience having a night out, rounds off the edges. Tender Dearly isn't one for a first date. It is a gruelling, tormenting look at exactly what alcoholism can do to the moments between people - both for the alcoholics themselves and the people they affect, rippling outwards - and the evil inner structure of particular people who use alcohol to magnify their defective personalities as a weapon against others. Interludes of dream, visions, almost-heart-attacks, and the frequent present of the hooded dead liven up the telling blissfully. Jodie Marshall has written a play of rare, horrifying power. West Yorkshire Playhouse should be acclaimed for commissioning a drama of this force. Now that its short run is over, it will hopefully reach the London and national audience it - immensely - deserves.

Cast Credits: (alpha order): Kate Gillespie - Stephany. Damian Kell - Euan. Michael Klesic - The Serb. Liam McKenna - Irvine. Alison Pargeter - Phoebe.

Company Credits: Writer - Jodie Marshall. Director - Alex Chisholm. Designer - Barney George. Lighting Designer - David Bennion-Pedley. Sound Designer - Martin Pickersgill. Composer - Demitris Zavros. Original Songs (Don't Come Around, His Arms) by Gavin MacDonald. His Arms played by Little Neemo www.myspace.com/littleneemo. Casting Director - Kay Magson. Deputy Stage Manager - Julie Issott. West Yorkshire Playhouse Credits: Associate Directors (alpha order) - Sam Brown (assistant director), Alex Chisholm (literary), Gail McIntyre (young people's theatre), Mic Pool (creative technology). Artistic Director - Ian Brown.

END

John Park

reviewed Wednesday 27 June 07 / West Yorkshire Playhouse Courtyard

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