Work In Progress: A woman at the end of her tether leaves us with a life-affirming glow

Abby settles into her therapist’s couch. She’s made a decision, she explains. She’s going to give it 180 days and if her life hasn’t changed for the better, she’s going to kill herself.

Unfortunately, her therapist has stopped paying attention. She’s not the only one who isn’t listening. “You’re suicidal? You didn’t tell me that!” chides her sister over brunch later. “I’m pretty sure I did,” notes Abby.

The prompt for Abby’s crisis? A massive unrequested jar of almonds gifted by her colleague to help her address her weight: they are now laid out in her apartment in immaculate rows, one nut for each day of the countdown.

Admittedly, this is not a set-up that sounds like a life-affirming half an hour of television, still less one which provides a huge and brilliant guffaw within the first five minutes. Yet this “comedy about being out and down” that’s co-written by and stars Chicago comedian Abby McEnany manages to be sweet and hopeful; a welcome reminder that even when life is crap, people are often good.

McEnany gives a great performance as self-described “fat, queer dyke” Abby and the writing has a measured, deft touch, so it seems surprising that this is the 51-year-old’s first experience of TV. But McEnany has explained that part of her motivation to get her semi-autobiographical dramedy to screen was that while things are improving, it’s still pretty rare to see women like her on TV.

That makes Work in Progress feel like a really positive show to watch, even when the subject matter appears bleak.

And really, it’s not. There are some great laughs and a scene featuring Saturday Night Live’s Julia Sweeney that works whether or not you know about Sweeney’s early Nineties SNL character Pat, an androgynous punchline to a cheap, mean joke. That Sweeney is both taken to task for her gag and given space to apologise and to make a positive contribution shows the generosity and warmth of McEnany’s work.

That also extends to the fictional Abby. There are times when scripts that draw on a performer’s life can be excruciating viewing, so tough that watching feels almost like bullying. Here there is a recognition of Abby’s faults and idiosyncrasies but also of her goodness. There is a kindness at the show’s heart which means you never feel the laugh is at her expense.