The Last Noël begins as a joyfully eccentric patchwork of monologues, songs and banter about the ridiculousness of Christmas, but as celebrations are delayed and numerous snack foods are consumed, a deeper underlying story develops.

Director Jonathan Humphreys makes excellent use of the play’s mid-feast setting, both tonally and conceptually, as a way of embracing and celebrating overindulgence while simultaneously mocking it mercilessly. The abundance of Christmas references is counterbalanced by a shifting tone, which veers regularly between naturalism and camp comedy, and melodrama and musical.

Attic Theatre are enthusiastic about creating plays in non-traditional spaces, and while Arts at the Old Fire Station is a more traditional theatre space than some of the venues in which they’ve performed, they have embraced the benefits of the space, with the stage and seating arranged in such a way that the audience and characters seem to be sitting together. Designer Alison Neighbour and Lighting Designer Lucy Adams have made perfect use of this stage layout to further enhance the cosy atmosphere with long paper chains hanging above our heads, a Christmas tree, fairy lights, a spread of snack food, and – of course – a table full of booze.

Chris Bush clearly takes joy in evoking pangs of nostalgia through the three characters' ritualistic consumption of food and alcohol, and the cast successfully mine the references to trifles, and salmon and odd flavoured crisps - not to mention gin and rum and whisky - for comedy value, while increasing the physicality of their performances. Anna Crichlow’s younger character, Tess, exhibits a youthful, almost naive idealism without ever seeming forced or insincere, while Dyfrig Morris gradually turns the camp up to eleven with caustic wit, as Tess’ uncle Mike. But most strikingly, Annie Wensak portrayed Alice, Tess’ grandmother, with a wistful naturalism that somehow persists even throughout the play’s more vivid tonal shifts.

As characters interject, stories evolve, and key phrases repeat, the dialogue gains a poetic melancholic tone, and lends the story a suitably sentimental feel. This lyrical quality to the dialogue, combined with Matt Winkworth’s pitch-perfect piano accompaniment, effectively evokes the fun and sadness of Christmas, while seamlessly complementing the creative flourishes of lighting designer Lucy Adams and movement director Annie-Lunnette Deakin Foster.

Sometimes, the play is loud and obnoxious, and joyously overindulgent, and at other times it is slow and meditative, but as it draws to a close and all of the stories have been told, a bigger, more timeless story has gradually emerged, about deeper themes such as family and mortality. Chris Bush explains in the programme how she feels that Christmas is a ‘holiday detached from any religious significance’ but also ‘steeped in ritual’, and her latest play revels in the funny ways that we use festivities such as Christmas to mythologise the past while distracting ourselves from the here and now.