As it’s well-known that Christmas can bring out the worst in families, when the family is as dysfunctional as the Bainbridges on their Northern council estate it’s not the best time for an introductory visit.

Paul Birtill’s ‘Happy Christmas’ occupies the same notional territory as Carla Lane’s sitcom ‘Bread’, in which a Liverpudlian matriarch controlled a brood of ne’er do well siblings and which ran on BBC from 1986 until 1991. Combining witty dialogue with quirky characters and a farcical plot, Birtill’s play eschews the sentimental overtones which marked the series and adopts a darker tone.

When John Bainbridge arrives on Christmas Eve to stay a couple of nights with his recently widowed father and two brothers he explains to pregnant fiancée Mary that as his father is a strong Catholic she will have to sleep on the living room sofa.

John’s mother’s death accounts for the lack of any sign of Christmas desorations; the authentically retro set and furnishings include the sofa that not only conceals sharp objects in the depths of its squashy cushions, but is the focus for some of the play's funniest incidents. It takes on the symbolic importance of its counterpart in the more recent Liverpool sitcom, 'The Royle Family'.

Jack Bainbridge, reacting badly to the double tragedy of his wife’s death and his own redundancy has taken to sexually harassing a local teenager. Meanwhile Mark, his schizophrenic youngest son refuses to take his medication on the grounds that it interferes with his poetry-writing. Middle son Kenny is a 25 year old waster who spends his weekly unemployment cheque on drink.

While Mark cackles in a sinister way, Kenny tells Mary she looks like a ‘claimer’ i.e. someone who claims benefit and works at the some time. ‘What’s green and gets you pissed? A Giro!’ he tells her. At Jack’s news that Christmas lunch will be sausage casserole followed by a jelly or semolina at a charge of £3 a head, money in advance, Mary wants to go home. To make things worse, a neighbourhood sniper with an air-gun is taking pot-shots at the window.

Mary isn’t the only one to suffer insults and worse from the foul-mouthed Jack; the teenager’s father, a hapless local priest and a policeman all receive short shrift. Finally a combination of sleep-deprivation from constant night-time interruptions, lack of food and an atmosphere of escalating violence plunge Mary into desperate action.

The play was warmly received by a full house at the New End Theatre. Smooth direction ensured the relentless spiralling of events as the characters moved with increasingly manic frequency between kitchen and living room and street. The actors wisely opted for accents that were Northern rather than strictly Scouse. Whilst all the cast contributed competent performances the most endearingly authentic role was played by Ray Callaghan as Father Willcox whilst a poignant note was added when Glenn Hanning, as the tormented Mark read a poem to Mary, pleading for greater tlerance for the mentally ill.

Unfortunately, the steep rake of the cosy 84-seat theatre allowed the audience to note the absence of sausages in the casserole at the festive meal - an unintended metaphor, perhaps, and a final ironic comment on the disappointments at the heart of many family Christmases.