Viv is angry and Joe is sad. Danny likes Luke and Geoff needs to find his song. An ingeniously simple six-scene structure takes us through the season of an LGBT five-a-side football league. We root for Barely Athletic, a club set up by the somewhat stroppy lesbian Viv, played with a mix of aggression and sadness by the brilliantly scenery-chewing Vivienne Gibbs. Having been kicked out of the Lesbian Rovers, she assembles a team to help her win a coveted trophy.

Her brother-in-law and the token straight of the team Joe (Matt Sutton) is literally an everyday Joe, slightly flabby and out-of-shape. Both are united in their grief about Joe’s recently deceased wife. They are joined by Andy Rush’s cheeky Geoff – a devil-may-care sort of guy who’s always quick with a quip but after a vicious attack that left him physically scarred is haunted by some demons of his own. He’s trying to find a song to sing at Gay Pride but he needs to suss out some things beforehand.

At the centre of the play is the love story between assistant coach Danny (Jamie Samuel) and the new arrival Luke. When it comes to matters of football or love Danny’s self-confidence is somewhat hampered. Although smitten by the innocent, awkward but good-hearted Luke (an amusing and touching performance from Philip Duguid-McQuillan), he needs to come to terms with some uncomfortable responsibilities. The cast are all completely at home with the rhythm of the Northern dialect which gives the strong ensemble performance a rough charm.

Designer Lucy Osborne brings just the right kind of greyness to the set: a changing room that reeks of functionality, sweat and abandoned dreams. Although we never actually leave this room it is due to James Grieve’s unfussy and to the point direction that the tension never drops.

Unvoiced anger and fear are at the heart of a lot of the struggles. The players’ performance at weekly matches is closely connected to how they are coping with their personal problems. The weighty issues in the story are handled with surprising levity and situation comedy. So these sad clowns play, argue, win, lose and over time somewhat unwittingly help each other find their ways. None of the sentiments and ideas presented are necessarily new: team spirit helps overcome adversity; winning’s not all that counts; true love conquers old demons.

Luckily, the pairing of real topical issues with a sense of innocence and genuine love for its characters steer the production clear of any triteness or over-simplification. Tom Wells’ writing brings an affirmative spin to the way modern gay life in the UK is portrayed. Apparently, life is a lot like football. You tackle your problems, block your fears, and score points when you get the chance. When you think about it for a minute it becomes a lot less trite than it sounds.

Here is some news for you: people are messy and full of contradictions. When they become sick they don’t suddenly turn into pitiable martyrs. The life of a young New York poet gets turned upside down when he contracts HIV and splits up with his partner. Rich (Tom Colley) is angry about what’s happening to him, his community and his body. His mood swings and rage make him a rather unsympathetic character. It’s an energetic performance by Colley, who has great chemistry with the nuanced David Poyner playing his overbearingly supportive ex Saul. The squabbling, the promiscuity, the self-centeredness or devotion of the characters – in its examination of personal relationships, reaction of family, friends and co-workers, As Is is truthful and touching.

Set in and around the AIDS hospice St Vincent’s in Greenwich Village, the play exposes the very real struggles of that time. Around 1985, when the play originally premiered, the death toll shook the tightly knit gay community of New York. It was the nightmarish crash of a subculture that only a few years before had soared to its own liberation. The play presents these wild days in a stylised fashion with ecstatic cocaine-fuelled crescendoes, leather clones and surreal Greek choir-like scene overlaps. There are a few slightly risqué and outrageous bits, but those are never to merely shock but to create a fast-paced, heaving and sweaty melancholia for a time gone by.

Counterbalanced with quiet revelations in life support meetings or on phone help lines, there are just so many facets to this production, from the very poignant to the tragically funny. And that’s what people do in the face of death: they laugh, deny, get angry, make up and screw up.

It’s a wonderful achievement from the cast, who stay on stage most of the time, and their costume changes happen on stage for the audience to see. Phil Lindley’s design, full of great details, with a big dominating arch, gym lockers, hints of scaffolding structures and sleazy, grimy undertones, provides them with a space that is very much of the era and serves as a bar, a club or hospital room.

Claire Kissane’s fervent hospice worker shows that even when you yourself are not affected by hardship, you can still feel connected to those who are and play your part to in helping to overcome public indifference. Paul Standell and Anna Tiernay deliver strong performances as the multiple characters that make up the community. It’s Jordan Bernarde, however, who manages to give real punch to his characters, all of which are authentic and distinct in their very own way.

As Is is not only an artefact of its time vibrantly brought to life through Andrew Keates’ direction; it is also an alarming reminder that the sidelining of an entire part of society can happen when there is no compassion or urge to understand and solidarise. Maybe a clearer hint towards more recent LGBT issues wouldn’t have gone amiss, but it’s definitely a production that works in its own right. It should be seen by everyone, not just people who are interested in gay rights and history.