In the pre-internet days of the late 1980s I was a member of an organisation called The Friends of John McCarthy. All former Hull University students had been contacted to add their support to the campaign to keep the fate of their fellow graduate and now Beirut hostage in the news. The students union re-named one of the Union bars after McCarthy, an irony not lost on anybody given the circumstances of his imprisonment. It had previously been named after Nelson Mandela or another senior member of the ANC who (I'm fairly hopeful) wouldn't have objected to the change.

Frank McGuinness's play dates from the year after McCarthy's release in 1991 and although the three hostages we meet are not supposed to represent anyone in particular the inspiration for the action is clear. An Englishman, an Irishman and an American meet up in a Beirut cellar - but this is no joke - they are all being held hostage by unknown captors who have them chained up and are watching their every movement, including those of their bowels. At first only the American and the Irishman are there and towards the end only the Englishman and the Irishman, so the interplay between the characters undergoes subtle changes which go beyond the shared misery of their captivity.

When we first meet George Turner's Adam he is already fed up with hearing about the love of Tom Redican's Edward for Dawn Run "(you would) have married her but it couldn't have worked out. She was a horse and you were human" and the European Cup Winning Celtic side of 1967. And Edward is fed up with Adam's boosterish attempts to keep fit. They are not a good match it would seem - but they have to stick together. Whatever they have been before is not much use to them now and their vulnerabilities will be on show as often as their strengths.

What really keeps them from hostilities (apart from the chains that attach them to radiators of course) is the arrival of the third man, Martin Shaw's Michael whose life has been changed by a search for the key ingredient of his signature dish - a pear flan. It seems initially that Michael might go under quickly, not least because Edward appears to take pleasure in baiting him but as time passes, though still scared he gains strength, much you realise as the other two must have done. This is an essay in the survival of the human spirit in the face of enormous pressure. Adam was a bit of a puzzle to me with a somewhat sketchy back story and dreamy manner I half expected a heavy hint that he was actually an American agent rather than the doctor that he was made out to be. He tried to be the All American type "I want a pair of jockey shorts. I want to wear my country's greatest contribution to mankind" and talked of killing an Arab "just one" but ended up quoting the Koran at length staring into the distance seeming to view his fate from a long way off at first, but getting inevitably closer. George Turner exuded a certain serenity but I thought he was at his best when he got really angry and when he sang "Amazing Grace" to his captive audience.

Edward on the other hand plays the class joker and class barman "I'm breaking out and having a drink ... how about a little Martini?" picking arguments with Michael about the Irish potato famine and 800 years of oppression but eventually joining him in rabbit impressions and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang singalongs. Tom Redican invested his character with wit and warmth, sarcasm and strength and you believed that he would pull them through by sheer force of personality. His departure from captivity seemed both dignified and guilt ridden and the overall effect was outstanding in every respect. Martin Shaw's Michael was presented to us at first as a bit of a soppy Englishman but he grew in stature in front of us and gave as good as he got both from Edward and his desperate situation. His inveigling of Edward into being Betty Stove to his Virginia Wade made for a masterful comic interlude among the despair and darkness and his loyalty to Peterborough was admirable. (Although I did wonder why McGuinness made him say "soccer" instead of football). He had the audience rooting for him from his first supine entrance to his final isolated tableau. His pained, terrified stares at the bloodstains on the wall were almost worth the price of admission on their own.

Director Rob Irvine's previous directorial outings have proved him to have an impressively human touch and this play continued to demonstrate that quality of his work. The characters were brought to us in all their quirky magnificence but the play's basic humanity was always its top note. This being a Frank McGuinness play there is a clear gay subtext - Michael has to protest that he really was married and Edward has to protest that he didn't sleep with Adam but, like their captivity, it is treated with an air of mystery rather than a statement of principles.

Michael Bettell's set was at once a lightbox and a human puppet theatre (or possibly vivarium given the heat) and you felt that a God-like figure might reach down and pick them out of their captivity at any moment. Laurence Tuerk's sound landscape hinted effectively that the despairing trio were at once very close to the outside world but at the same time many leagues removed from hope and safety. Adam Taylor's lighting gave us both searing heat and obscure shadows - for who knew if it was day or night? In these ISIS dominated days the operations of Islamic Jihad in those times can be made to seem almost benevolent in comparison but it's worth remembering that some of the hostages were in solitary confinement for years rather than months and most were tortured as well - several were killed. This production was a finely nuanced tribute to the triumph of affection and humanity over desperate circumstances. As Auden said "Defenceless under the night … we must love one another or die".

Photography by David Sprecher