It’s a weird train of events which led me to this point. If I hadn’t done the speed dating thing on Wednesday I wouldn’t have idly picked up the flier with the tin of paint and pair of feet on it and wondered what was on at the West Yorkshire Playhouse these days. I wouldn’t have seen the words "Christopher Eccleston" and, if I hadn’t gone back to the speed dating website to confirm my complete failure, I wouldn’t have nipped over to the Playhouse website to check ticket availability, found there were seats for Friday’s performance and booked a seat in the third row online. If I hadn’t put the television on after my dad rang, I wouldn’t have realised that I had precisely four minutes to get ready and get out because I haven’t put my clock forward yet. But I picked my ticket up from the box office and, to my pleasant surprise, found that what they’re selling as a programme is in fact the entire text of the play with cast and crew notes.

The Courtyard Theatre at the Playhouse is the smaller of the two stages and is, apparently, very flexible as regards layout. As one of the women behind me said, in a line which could have been written by Alan Bennett, "Last year they had it set up with the stage in the middle so if you were in the audience on this side, you were looking across to the audience on that side. Hey, you’re supposed to put the black ones back in if you get two!" The last comment referring to jelly babies, the only black people universally acceptable in middle-class theatregoing circles. On this occasion, it was set out with as a rectangular room, however moved through 45 degrees so a corner of the rectangle projected out towards the audience and forced perspective walls giving the impression of depth. In fact, the set was one of the particularly clever things about the play- for a set which has to be decorated and partly destroyed night after night, a great deal of thought had been put into the visual side, even down to the door which follows the line of the false perspective.

And so to the play itself. To summarise: three builders are working in a flat and have successfully strung the job out from seven weeks to three months. Katherine, the owner of the flat, has hired them to create a quiet space, having become increasingly introspective following the death of her mother. Leo, the senior builder, is a plain-dealing Welshman who wants to get the job done and make a good impression. Jakey (Eccleston) is a blokey Cockney builder type, first seen reading amusing stories from the Sun while everybody else works around him. He is however fiercely protective of his teenage son Bizzy, whose photographic memory is a contrast to his otherwise limited intelligence and lack of awareness. The first half of the play establishes the situation and characters, including the dramatic device which gives the play its title- a live wire emerging from the wall. Katherine tries and fails to upbraid the builders about their slowness, instead giving vent to all her insecurities; by the end of the second act, the builders have agreed to make full speed to get the job done and Katherine has left for a mysterious appointment. Bizzy is however besotted with Katherine, and realises deep down that she is well out of his reach as he reaches for the wire...

The second half of the play begins with Jakey and Leo sharing a racy anecdote. Bizzy has suffered nothing worse than an instant Afro and the work has now been completed, all except the live wire. The situation is however complicated by Katherine’s (ex-)boyfriend Michael, who appears to have been sent to superintend the end of the work, but who ultimately reveals more about their relationship than he intends. Combined with Bizzy’s reading of Katherine’s diary, this sets up a climax which is both comic and disturbing. There’s a contrast throughout between the builders, who get on with life the best they can and cope with its ups and downs, and the way in which Katherine and Michael are unable to articulate their feelings and needs. Without giving too much away, there are serious flaws in their relationship, and they are only made to accept this when Bizzy’s photographic memory comes into play.

But enough about the play- yes, it’s enjoyable if strangely old-fashioned and obvious in places. You want to know about Christopher Eccleston. The play puts his character at the heart of the action for most of the time, and he gets to display a wide range, from Jakey’s laddish side, telling cheeky stories from the paper, juggling with hammers and balancing an eight foot length of beading on his index finger to his fiercely protective nature where his son is concerned. He’s utterly convincing as a Cockney builder and at times his strong features radiate a blistering intensity. It’s an interesting role for an actor more usually associated with edgy, tortured Northerners and he plays it with relish. I can’t remember hearing a Doctor say "fuck" and "piss" so much since William Hartnell’s notorious Blue Peter interview, but it does give him the opportunity to give him lines like the following, which stick in the memory:

"We’ll give her a Quiet Space so fucking tranquil, she’ll jump when she farts."

And on that note, I’ll bid you farewell.