Review: THE UNLIKELY PILGRIMAGE OF HAROLD FRY, Theatre Royal Haymarket
Photo credit: Tristram Kenton
There is an inherent risk in translating Rachel Joyce’s The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry to the stage. What functions as a meditative internal monologue on the page can easily become, in the wrong hands, a series of episodic "encounters" that feel more like a checklist than a journey. At the Theatre Royal Haymarket, this adaptation finds its soul in its performers and its beautiful visual language even while the script and score occasionally trip over their own shoelaces.
The most glaring issue lies in the structural dissonance between the two acts. Act 1 beats with big numbers and equally hefty choreography by Tom Jackson Greaves. Though ‘on the nose’ or overly expositional at times, Act 1 readies an audience for a mammoth Act 2 that never arrives. Act 2 arrives with less ‘West End’ energy and more a haunting reliance on the stereotypical wake of grief’s waves. This tonal whiplash undermines the emotional stakes of the show and causes confusion for an audience who keeps having their expectations of the show’s world (musically and lyrically) altered without clear dramatic intent.
While Harold Fry himself (played by Mark Addy) remains grounded, the ensemble of characters he meets along the way suffer from a writing style that leans too heavily on theatrical shorthand. Rather than offering Harold (and the audience) genuine human connection, the script frequently presents us with broad caricatures—the quirky shopkeeper, the cynical youth, the enlightened stranger. These tropes feel less like people and more like obstacles designed to trigger a specific emotional response, preventing the play from reaching a truly profound philosophical height.
The score is, at times, moving yet sometimes lapses into the notion of what a folk musical would sound like. At times, this results in a polished, sanitised pastiche of the genre which lacks the jagged edges and authentic grit that makes folk music a genre typically grounded in visceral necessity.
Despite these stumbles, the production is salvaged by a trio of powerhouse performances.
Harold and Maureen Fry (Mark Addy and Jenna Russell, respectively) anchor the show with a real chemistry. We believe their intimacy (or sometimes lack thereof), and the quietness of their domestic life. A true standout, Jenna Boyd navigates her various roles with real dexterity, and her presence is a masterclass in versatility. The puppetry by Timo Tatzber is also a joy to witness, with Dog really helping ground the often fantastical or far-fetched relationships with other characters.
The visual storytelling is another facet of where this production earns its keep. Samuel Wyer’s design utilises a kinetic set that makes the vastness of the English countryside feel both infinite and claustrophobically intimate. When partnered with Paule Constable’s lighting design, this succeeds in painting vistas that themselves tell a rich story.
This pilgrimage is a journey worth taking for the craftsmanship on display, even if the journey is at times treacherous. It is a production of high highs and puzzling lows; a beautiful vessel carrying some rather heavy-handed cargo.
*** Three stars
Reviewed by: Jeff Mostyn
