“We grow out of the things we love”
Harrogate is an eighty minute piece without interval, it is divided into three definite and powerful acts, consisting of two performers and a simplistic set. The main star of this powerful and intense play is the writing itself which is textured and rich. The audience are immediately taken out of their comfort zone when for the first few minutes of action the house lights remained up. We felt naked and on display, this is was not going to be comfortable.
The play takes us through three encounters of Him’s life he never leaves the stark and bright stage but interacts with female characters that come and go. Initially Him is in charge of the situation, he controls the conversation with his daughter and almost directs her like an author writing a script. A surface level father daughter exchange feels odd and false. He criticises her grammar sternly but fully allows her to swear and drink in front of him. Things are not as they appear. The audience is jarred and took a collective intake of breath when the dynamics shift in the last section of this first act.
The second act mirrors this first significantly but in this instance the female character leads the conversation. She is more tangible, realistic and human than the former. The way Smith wrote Her in this second act is amazing. A hormonal mess, wrapped in love and anguish, this character was truly the most sympathetic of the three Ridgeway played. The muted and monotone stage was a perfect backdrop for the colour and visual splendour Her’s dialogue created. The names of off stage characters “Mr White and Mr Dark” were a clear nod to the idea that for Him nothing of any substance existed out of this room. Towards the end of this act, the audience becomes more aware of the sinister undertones that are felt throughout the play.
The third and final act was a raw and intense experience, no longer a passive audience member I felt my whole body tense up. It was like watching an eclipse, the self-preserving urge to look away only overcome by the magnetic pull to stare at the horrific. We sat riveted with a disgusted curiosity as Smith made us feel empathy for a character struggling deeply with a mental illness that causes thoughts he doesn’t want but cannot fight. By the end of the play I had deep imprints of my nails in the palms of my hand and my back ached from tension. Like the characters within Harrogate we were all truly “swept away”
Each act was finished and started with electronic interruptions, the lights shifted and old music played distortedly. It seemed that the white room that was the entire set was a living representation of Him’s mental state and the suggestion of electronic interference worked wonderfully to suggest faulty synaptic pathways and mental break down. I cannot fault Harrogate in anyway, there was nothing I would change, and having talked to a few other audience members this feeling was mutal.
A harrowing and raw piece, an absolute must see and see again.
Writing and Talking 