APPROPRIATELY enough, it was wine o’clock on the dot when my friend and I arrived at The Coronation Hall in Ulverston to watch Soaked, a play about booze by actor and writer Emma Rydal.

Time enough to settle at a table at the back of the hall, with a bottle of pinot and two glasses.

Rydal, who fans of Sky One’s Welsh comedy drama Stella will remember from her role in season five, decided to write a play about alcohol after becoming “fascinated” to meet someone who had been teetotal for two years.

“Fascinating” is not a word I would associate with being teetotal - but I was interested to see how Rydal’s play would pan out.

It centres around a bibulous husband and wife called Imogen and Rich (Toby Gaffney), who have a couple of children - who are noises off for the duration of the play. All the action takes place in the family lounge-diner.

Comedy in the first act was fairly constant, with the audience giggling in recognition of some of the scenarios, especially when Imogen “borrows” a bottle of wine from the next door neighbours (whose cat she is feeding - when she can remember) and then dispatches husband Rich to Booths to replace it the following morning.

An increasingly-tipsy scene featuring Imogen’s new work colleague Maddie (played by Madeleine Joseph), buckets of prosecco, two space hoppers and an ancient leotard was the funniest part of the play - but with so many unsubtle nods to the inevitable downward spiral to come, that it lost some of its dramatic impact.

The cabaret-style seating at the back of the Coro had a downside for me and my friend: every time one of the actors took a swig of (presumably) fake booze, we felt obliged to take a swig from the bottle of actual booze sitting on our table. It all became something of a drink-along-a-drama.

By the time the first act came to an end, Imogen was nursing a broken wrist, Maddie was turning into a sinister “single white female” type, and Rich was on the way to a drink driving conviction. And my friend and I were well on the way to being tipsy.

To amuse ourselves in the interval, we did the scratchcard drinking habits questionnaire which had been handed out with the programmes. By the time we’d answered half the questions, we were wishing we hadn’t bothered and were muttering sulkily about the “killjoy” writer.

After the antics of Act 1, Act 2 became darker and darker, what with Rich’s drink driving (albeit with some humour: “How do you feel about selling up here and become a crofter?” he asks Imogen in desperation when he returns from the police station), revelations about abortions and the insidious shadow of alcoholism.

The acting throughout was impressive - Rydal was particularly accomplished - and the small set worked well.

If we were anything like the rest of the audience, we left feeling we had been ever so slightly preached at, rather than entertained. Only one thing for it to cheer us up, what with it being a Friday evening. You guessed it: more wine.

Review by LOUISE ALLONBY