Chip Shop Chips

First, a disclaimer. It’s very difficult not to be charmed by a play where the audience take their seats at tables bedecked in red checked tablecloths and are immediately served fish and chips to a soundtrack of Northern Soul – or should that be sole (their joke).

The fact that the audience are also given quiz sheets and the forthcoming tour takes place in a succession of village halls lends Chip Shop Chips all the atmosphere of an eagerly awaited fete. The set is rudimentary at best: a mock chip shop counter lit by the venue’s harsh fluorescent ceiling panels. But director Adam Quayle overcomes such limitations. This is a production full of heart.

The audience members are all diners at the newly relaunched Booth and Son’s Fish & Chip Shop. Russell Richardson’s Eric is both ringmaster and regretful singleton, juggling duties as fourth-wall breaking quizmaster and chip shop owner. He’s taken aback when old flame Christine (a wistful Julie Edwards) walks through the door with her grand-daughter Jasmine.

It becomes clear that Jasmine and young waiter Lee are embarking on the same mistakes as previous generations – and Jessica Forrest in particular revels in her sassy role, as well she might as a Hollyoaks and Coronation Street alumnus.

Ben-Ryan Davies’ loveably hapless Lee gets the stand-out line of the night. “What if you’ve not got the X Factor?” he bemoans. “What if you’re ordinary?” That very much encapsulates the longing tone of Becky Prestwich’s play. And despite the fact that some of the immersive quirks of the production – such as asking the audience to make hats out of newspaper – feel a bit makeshift, and the play has a telegraphed, overlong denouement, it still feels like Chip Shop Chips could develop into something special.