HAD anyone dared to suggest that this 66-year-old cynical Yorkshireman, who wears northern gruffness like a badge of honour, might one evening sit among a collective of unflappable women of a certain age and share tears of joy and pathos, they would have been sent away in typical flat-hatted fashion.

But now I have to think again after enjoying one of the best evenings in a theatre I have ever had.

If you thought being Yorkshire means being closed-minded to anything potentially 'airy fairy', like wine or indoor plumbing, or preferring nurse Gladys Emmanuel or Nora Batty to the pejorative stereotypical Essex girl, then you too must think again.

The cause of all this wistful and melancholic reflection is the most wonderful 'Calendar Girls'. And more specifically, last night's (Thursday, 15 May) opening performance of Gary Barlow and Tim Firth's musical at the Thameside Theatre, which must sit towards the very top of 'TOPS' on Stage productions that date back across 13 decades.

TOPS is an acronym replacing the more historic Thurrock Operatic Society. And Calendar Girls, at first thought, is about as far from opera as you might get. But Calendar Girls is opera, a form of entertainment defined as' a dramatic work in one or more acts, set to music'.

The story it tells of love, tragedy and hope would be just as much at home in Covent Garden as Grays' homely little theatre, but I can't imagine a more perfect setting than a packed Thameside for the telling of a tale that began in the rural Yorkshire enclave of Rylstone where its Women's Institute created what has become a globally-recognised phenomenon.

To be truthful, I knew a little about its background, other than knowing a group of women shook off the archetypal Jam and Jerusalem persona of WI members - often (and unjustly) derided as an organisation for middle-aged women with too much time on their hands - by creating a nude calendar.

From humble beginnings that idea became a national, then international news story that spawned an award-winning movie featuring some of Britain's best actors. And then, thanks to skills of Take That's Barlow and gifted writer Firth, it became a smash-hit musical.

TOPS On Stage took on the difficult task of staging it in a somewhat humble, though very appropriate community setting and it was a challenge they not only met full on but achieved it in triumphant fashion that had a near full audience on its feet, laughing, clapping and crying – all at the same time at its climax.

Handing out plaudits for that achievement is difficult. I don't really know where to start so I'll do it from back to front with not just applause, but thanks, to a technical team that accomplished the difficult task of mixing the sounds and sightings of an ensemble cast, to theatre staff who offer the most genuine welcome in true WI tradition, to the six musicians and their conductor Clare Benson for providing the melodic backdrop and to the cast and support team from TOPS who will undoubtedly have a sad Sunday when this unbelievably close knit ensemble has to break up.

Though, of course another challenge quickly follows and I am certain work is already underway for October's scheduled production of 'Come From Away'.

It seems churlish to pick out individuals from the Calendar Girls troupe, but that is the job of a reviewer, so I'll start with one of the men in this women's world.

Ian Benson, who directs as well as performs, is rapidly building up a pantheon of great work at the Thameside. He's twice filled the spotlight as Rene Artois for Thurrock Courts Players in their productions of 'Allo, Allo' and also shone as Eric Swann in Cash on Delivery. For TOPs he was a memorable Gilbert in Betty Blue Eyes. Here he's a little less centre stage, but certainly the centre of attention as John Clark, whose death from cancer sparked the whole thing off. 

Getting the men out of the way, Sean Hynes is strong and confident as Rod and I think if ever TV needs a replacement for the characterful Andrew Dunn (Dinnerladies, Coronation Street, et al) he's the man to turn to. Max Faulkner (Danny) and Michael Southgate (Tommo) have the difficult task of being schoolboys and but with a little audience suspension of disbelief they get the job done well. George Andelon (Laurence) has the enviable chore of being husband to Celia (more on her later) and Will Messenger is the lucky man behind the camera. Last but not least, Thameside veteran Vic Gray is another husband, wistfully supporting Jessie and once again showing his mastery of timing and delivery.

And so to the girls.

As I said, this is a true ensemble and the success of the show is that everyone plays a key role. The off-stage vocal talents of Sophie Nash are complemented by her enjoyable interjection as Lady Cravenshire. Liane Alton and Annaliese Day are a constant and amusing pairing throughout with their refreshments and they finish with a bang at the end – but you'll have to see it to believe it!

Being bossy, strict and overbearing are characteristics captured wonderfully by Angela Davies, the interloper who is the local WI chair and least impressed (until the end) by her colleagues' shocking plans.

While I said the job of Max and Michael to be youngsters was a difficult one, their female counterpart is the devilish and very naughty Jenny, and it didn't take any suspension of disbelief for the audience to applaud the talents of Mia Dean who portrayed her.

That leaves the naked talents of the rest of the cast to talk about.

Browsing through reviews, some critics of Calendar Girls have said the first half is a tad too long and doesn't catch fire. I strongly disagree. It sets the plot and builds the characters.

We get to see what drives troubled Ruth - a brilliant performance of self-pity and worry portrayed by Jenny Storey. Her solo spot is heart wrenching. And we learn about Jessie and her backstory. Helen Wach may be diminutive, but her performance is giant.

The aforementioned Celia is the trophy wife and provocative minx among the more conservative ladies and Hollie Davy has the role off to a T. The antithesis to Celia in the group is Cora, a single mum with an overbearing priest as a father and a potentially troublesome son (Tommo) who she adores. Wringing every ounce out of the role is Natalie Hills, with a performance Yorkshire-born Dame Maureen Lipman would have been proud of.

And at the forefront of everything is the relationship between the two leads, Annie and Chris – played gloriously by Lauren Jones and Angela Phillips respectively. Their love for each other and their journey through tragedy to triumph is the centrepiece of the plot. They can both belt out a song, drawing emotion from every one of Gary Barlow's superbly well-penned lines but above and beyond that, they act their socks off.

And it's not just feet that are uncovered in the climatic endings to both halves of the show. It's wonderfully done and what shone through for me was the friendship and care of each performer as they helped their on-stage colleagues through what were, I am sure, onerous and nerve-wracking moments.

The warmth of the cast to each other exactly mirrored the ethos behind this story and all I can say is it ranks right up there with the best things I have ever seen on stage.

One of the things that impressed me most was the script, and the infrequent but very pointed use of a certain word. When used, it drew laughter and understanding from an audience that might, in other circumstances have been shocked. Very clever and very astute.

So, I'll pinch a bit of Tim Firth's intuitiveness.

They say Yorkshire folk can be blunt, to the point of rudeness. The upside of which is that they don't brown nose and tend to say what they mean and mean what they say, ie being honest.

I'll close with a message to the mandarins and political leaders at Thurrock Council who continue to dally about securing the future of this wonderful theatre.

Last week, as I wrote about yesterday, they appear to have turned down a great opportunity for the Thameside community to put on this winter's pantomime. And, though a report is promised for later this year, they have yet to agree a succession plan that fulfils election pledges to give local people control of its destiny.

In a pointed phrase I hope Mr Firth would agree with, my message to Thurrock Council is simply this: "Get your f***ing finger out and sort it!"