Harrogate

Al Smith’s brilliantly unsettling debut play ‘Harrogate’ leaves you with the constant, worrying sensation of being out of your depth. In it, a man – named only as Him in the text – has what would appear to be three conversations with… er… well here is where things get complicated…

‘Harrogate’ is an extremely deft piece of writing that uses the live theatre medium to make us doubt what we’re seeing. In literal terms, the actor playing Him – in this case Nigel Lindsay, superb as a big, confident man who seems both menacingly physically imposing and somewhat pathetic – is only ever on stage with one other performer, who is simply credited as Her, and is played by Sarah Ridgeway.

But is Her supposed to be one woman roleplaying the parts of three? Or three different women who are simply played by the same actress in Richard Twyman’s production of the play ‘Harrogate’? It is intentionally confusing. In the first section, a friendly, blasé Her is dressed in school uniform and talking as if she’s Him’s daughter. But it soon seems to become apparent that she has been hired to play the role (and is perhaps even a prostitute). In the second part, Her would appear to be Him’s actual daughter, and he has conversations with her that he rehearsed in the first part, specifically about a clandestine trip to Harrogate she went on with her boyfriend that Him has somehow found out about. And in the third section, Her would seem to be Him’s wife (but is she?)

There are suggestions of answers but no hard truths in this taut yet slippery play that is, I suppose, about the dark grey areas that exist between men and women, touching on everything from consent to incest to the nature of marriage. These aren’t just confined to the Him/Her plot – perhaps its two most striking moments are anecdotes told by Her: one about giving a school Spanish teacher a mental breakdown; the other about a man who demanded to be blinded because he knew he wouldn’t love his wife following an operation to have her lower jaw removed.

It is fantastically tricksy, troubling stuff, deserving of all the accolades that have been lobbed its way since it premiered at the HighTide Festival last year. It’s just a shame that a combination of those accolades and an unusually short run at the Royal Court mean it’s already pretty much sold out to those in the know, but it’s well worth trying to snag a return.