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THE UNLIKELY PILGRIMAGE OF HAROLD FRY

★★★★★

Theatre Royal Haymarket

THE UNLIKELY PILGRIMAGE OF HAROLD FRY

Theatre Royal Haymarket

★★★★★

“balances spectacle with subtlety, and resonates with emotional depth”

The chances we miss often haunt us hardest. ‘The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry’ is a tender, heartbreaking, profoundly human new musical offering new chances for those brave enough to take them.

Weighed down by years of regret, Harold Fry learns an old friend is dying. Though initially hesitant, Harold realises there may be time to put one thing right. So begins an unexpected journey, rekindling the joys of living on the way. But can he reach her in time – and what truths await if he does?

Rachel Joyce’s ‘The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry’, adapted with Peter Darling and Katy Rudd, with dramaturgy by Nick Sidi, is a profound exploration of pain, forgiveness and renewal. A strikingly honesty portrait of self made prisons, it creates and unravels Harold’s uneasy mythology with impressive insight. Yet for all its gravity, it glows with warmth and humour. The writing, rich in subtext, excels at showing rather than telling – though later exchanges feel less nuanced, such as Maureen’s sudden absolution from a stranger and Kate’s unlikely departure from the pilgrimage. However, Harold and Maureen’s final scene restores the play’s understated humanity, closing with an authentic and unforgettable resonance.

Katy Rudd’s award winning direction, with Jamie Manton and Nicky Allpress, evolves with Harold. Early Brechtian elements – deconstructed set, ever-present ensemble, freezeframes – evoke a fractured existence, while later scenes bring realism and new life. The Balladeer’s shapeshifting nature is seeded with care, haunting Harold before vanishing at key moments. Chris Fisher’s illusions are brilliantly unsettling, while Timo Tatzber’s puppeteering is irresistibly endearing. Overall, the production balances spectacle with subtlety, and resonates with emotional depth.

With music and lyrics by Passenger, and additional contributions from Jeremy Holland Smith and Phil Bateman, the score is delicious, weaving country, smooth jazz, and pop into a cohesive folk sound. The careful construction builds and eases tension beautifully, with surprise chords underscoring emotional breakthroughs. Beautiful harmonies abound, including with the dog! The orchestra brings the score vividly to life under the baton of musical director Chris Poon and deputy Caitlin Morgan.

Tom Jackson Greaves’ choreography, assisted by Nell Martin and Edwin Ray, cleverly contrasts stillness with full blooded ensemble movement, weaving a rich mix of styles that celebrate the many paths to joy and fulfilment.

Samuel Wyer’s design, with Joseph Bisat Marshall (associate set and costume), Paule Constable (lighting), and Ash J Woodward (video), is cohesive, polished, and rich in symbolism. Circles recur from the proscenium arch to the performance space to the barrels, evoking cycles of change and unity. The barrels themselves carry additional meaning, while the circular arch becomes the frame through which we view Harold’s life. The tonal palette reveals stark differences, with Harold’s muted greys giving way to vivid sunsets, while Maureen stays stuck. Blake’s influence in the intense watercolour skies is clear. The only slight drawback is the sound design by Ian Dickinson and Gareth Tucker for Autograph, with voices occasionally struggling against orchestral swells. Still, the overall design grounds and drives the narrative with striking beauty.

The cast is outstanding. Mark Addy nails Harold Fry’s mix of bumbling charm and sincerity with no nonsense wit and warm vocals. Jenna Russell gives a beautifully nuanced Maureen Fry, compressing decades of resentment into a faded figure with crystalline vocals. Noah Mullins makes a dazzling West End debut as the commandingly mercurial Balladeer, delivering stunning vocals. The whole ensemble shines with vivid characterisations, powerful singing, and Tatzber’s enchanting puppetry.

Catch ‘The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry’ while you can – this is a journey you won’t want to miss.



THE UNLIKELY PILGRIMAGE OF HAROLD FRY

Theatre Royal Haymarket

Reviewed on 10th February 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Tristram Kenton

 


 

 

 

 

THE UNLIKELY

THE UNLIKELY

THE UNLIKELY

MANHUNT

★★★★

Royal Court

MANHUNT

Royal Court

★★★★

“Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force”

Behind a metallic, gauze curtain a figure paces back and forth. Shaven headed. His shadow follows him across the vertical wall of the translucent screen – a projected alter ego pursuing its prey, fuelling the claustrophobic motions of the man’s repetitive circuit. His behaviour is erratic yet painfully routine. It’s like watching a captive animal through the bars of a zoo’s enclosure.

A flash of brilliant white light releases him to tell his story. It’s a story that dominated the front pages and caught the public imagination during the summer of 2010. That of the major police operation across Tyne and Wear – the manhunt for fugitive Raoul Moat. The ex-prisoner was on the run for nearly a week after a killing spree, ending with a six-hour standoff with armed police and Moat’s suicide. It was a story that landed in the lap of journalist Andrew Hankinson whose subsequent book inspired Robert Icke’s brutal and challenging one-act play. The overriding word on our lips is ‘why?’

“Manhunt” doesn’t offer any answers, but it poses the question from every angle, looking at the horrific events through the eyes of the victims and the perpetrator, often begging us to ask which is which. Icke’s writing and direction steer the narrative in a cyclical fashion, swinging between flashbacks and the present. It is often Kafkaesque in its approach as Moat fights a system he believes has been against him since birth. Whether we are supposed to be or not, we are drawn into Moat’s own tragedy as much as his victim’s which is unsettling to say the least. Samuel Edward-Cook’s performance is a tour-de-force that reinforces this with a warped honesty as he tries to justify himself. All the while he is surrounded by figures from his past and present: the judges and juries that accuse him of hitting his daughter; the ex-partner; his childhood self, locked in his room by his unstable mother; the father he never knew; social workers; friends, accomplices and detractors, and most importantly his victims. A poignant extended blackout heightens a first-hand account from a police officer he randomly shot and blinded in a cold-hearted act of revenge.

The supporting cast who play the multiple roles are as equally compelling as Edward-Cook, if not as frightening. This could well have been a one man show along the lines of the recent ‘Kenrex’, which follows similar themes, but the ensemble here fleshes out the account and adds a distinct and welcome light and shade. There is occasional confusion during moments when we are unsure that what we are witnessing is in Moat’s mind or in reality. Hallucinations overlap real life too often, yet it all adds to the unease, and we are constantly left unsure who to believe. So rather than collude with anybody we end up trusting no one. An unsatisfactory and dangerous position to be in, but one that maybe Icke is trying to spotlight.

Danger is an undercurrent that bursts to the surface constantly. Edward-Cook’s manic, wild-eyed stare cements this. He is a drowning man watching his life flash before him. Azusa Ono’s lighting evokes the episodes with haunting atmosphere, from the coldness of a prison cell to the campfire warmth of his last hiding place in the Northumbrian countryside. Here Moat talks to fellow Geordie, Paul Gascoigne before confronting his estranged father and being consoled by a doting grandmother. It is all unreal, but it helps him unearth the truth of his nature. There is only one conclusion. Justice takes a back seat while cause and effect – action and reaction – take centre stage.

At the time, Moat was famously labelled a ‘callous murderer… end of story’. Which is arguably the case. This play appears to challenge that assumption, but Icke’s writing is as ambiguous as the history as he tries to dig deeper. But there is no avoiding the fact that Moat was a big, strong man who used violence against those who were weaker than him. He lied, he lacked control, and he tried to justify his actions that ruined and ended lives. It is not a good story. However, Icke turns it into a breath-taking piece of theatre. We might wonder why he chose to do so, but we are enthralled and disturbed by the experience, and the performances will stick in our minds for quite a while. A gripping production. End of story.

MANHUNT

Royal Court

Reviewed on 8th April 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Manuel Harlan

 

 

 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

A GOOD HOUSE | ★★★★ | January 2025
THE BOUNDS | ★★★ | June 2024
LIE LOW | ★★★★ | May 2024
BLUETS | ★★★ | May 2024
GUNTER | ★★★★ | April 2024
COWBOIS | ★★★★★ | January 2024
MATES IN CHELSEA | ★★★ | November 2023
CUCKOO | ★★½ | July 2023
BLACK SUPERHERO | ★★★★ | March 2023
FOR BLACK BOYS … | ★★★★★ | April 2022

MANHUNT

MANHUNT

MANHUNT