American dramatist Bess Wohl’s 2012 play is another 90-minute, single-act two-hander set in a Barcelona building destined for demolition the next day to make way for a shopping mall. It begins with a couple bursting in through the door of what (erroneously) seems to be his flat already halfway to having it off. She is obviously drunk, both of them randy. It looks like the start of a risqué, romp and there are certainly a lot of laughs, though some more serious themes do break through.
Netflix star Lily Collins in a shimmering jumpsuit is Irene, a woman not that different from her eponymous Emily in Emily in Paris, an American in Europe. She is here with a hen party who have flown over from Denver. Álvaro Morte, another Netflix name but with a track record on stage too, is Manuel from Madrid, rather older but handsome.
They were in the same bar and he caught her eye. It was she who went over and propositioned him. Although already sloshed, she spies a bottle of wine and wants more. He tries to put her off: “I was keeping that for a special occasion”, but they are soon knocking it back, drinking and her chatter putting off action beyond a few kisses.
Irene isn’t the brightest. She loves Spain, she says, because it is so Spanish; gets his name wrong: Manolo not Manuel. When conversation gets a little more serous, he blames the US for starting a new war. She says she is proud to be an American; he counters by saying you can’t just be proud, you have to do something to be proud of.
Out of the blue, Irene announces she is engaged, getting married in two weeks; he’s guessed already from the ring on her finger. Is she having second thoughts about this encounter? It’s increasingly clear the second thoughts are about getting married.
On a cord round her neck, Irene wears a whistle in the shape of a penis. It’s a joke, but women carry whistles to call for help. Like the pistol in Chekov, will it have its place later? When she has taken it off and goes to the bathroom, Manuel pockets it and ominously rolls up his sleeves. Does this token danger? We already know that the building is empty apart from the two of them. So far, it has been largely laughter, but do we now have a thriller?
So far, neither of this pair gains very much empathy, but Collins’s character increasingly reveals her insecurities, and, as Manuel’s situation at last gets explained, Morte presents a devastated man at the end of his tether. Though Lynette Linton’s production only just avoids getting sentimental at this point both actors seize the chance to deliver true feeling.
Though the action runs from late night through to morning, lighting (Jai Morjaria) and sound (Duramaney Kamara and Xana) respond to the mood of the moment as well as the real hour with the shadows of Gino Ricardo Green's projections an ambiguous addition, though their meaning isn’t clear until the play is almost ended.
Barcelona isn’t as weighty a piece as it sets out to be, but it is both funny and a little bit creepy. The interaction of Collins and Morte makes their characters strangely believable, and Lily and Álvaro well earn the enthusiastic reception the audience give their West End debuts.