Review: Happy Jack, Harrogate Theatre

“…the best performances I have seen this year in any production of any size…”

Happy Jack by John Godber, Harrogate Theatre

by Sean Sable

“In this life, you just gotta go on.” These words, uttered by Liz, one of Happy Jack’s protagonists, encapsulate the beating heart of John Godber’s two-hander play. Currently enjoying a regional revival tour in Yorkshire, Happy Jack transports us back to the days when life might have been simpler, but it was not easier. Exploring long-term love, Happy Jack resonates strongly with a modern audience by laying bare the timeless truth behind the mundanity of true love stories. The current production of Happy Jack at the Harrogate Theatre is a vibrant and moving portrayal that audiences won’t want to miss.

Inspired by the 60-year marriage of John Godber’s grandparents, Happy Jack first graced the stage over 40 years ago. As Godber’s freshman offering, Happy Jack heralded what would become an illustrious career, with Godber later winning multiple Olivier and BAFTA awards.

With a brutal and frank honesty, Godber examines the lives of a West Yorkshire couple, living, breathing and dying at the coalface. Told in a non-linear narrative, we follow the turbulent love story of Liz and Jack, a working-class couple whose world rarely extends beyond the pit village. Jack grinds his days away at the colliery whilst Liz waits for him at home, tending to the sisyphean dust that accompanies a life so close to the mines.

Employing a meta-drama structure, we are first greeted by the actors who announce an act, scene and page number before melting seamlessly into their characters. As the play progresses, the audience is presented with a series of vignettes that highlight a range of life’s sweetest and most human experiences: from births to deaths and the occasional trip to Blackpool in between.

The eponymous Jack, aptly portrayed by Frazer Hammill, is a jealous husband, a hardworking miner, a ready brawler, and a sometimes poet. It would be easy to dismiss Jack as an angry ruffian whose long days at the mine leave little time or energy to love his family. However, when examined closely, each of Jack’s perceived flaws reveals deeper truths. Constrained by rigid gender norms, Jack’s jealousy may be his only way to demonstrate his deep affection for Liz. His barely contained fists are an outlet for the rage he feels against the unfairness of a life of underpaid toil and class repression. Indeed, when Jack reads his poetry to Liz, we see the real Jack – the one Liz describes as being “soft as a brush.”

Liz, superbly played by Martha Godber (actor daughter of the playwright himself), is a housewife whose life descends into crippling anxiety after years of waiting for a husband who might not return home. Martha’s character engenders immediate affection as we are first introduced to her as an old woman, sitting in front of the fire with her legs akimbo, reminiscing about musicians she enjoyed in her younger years. Later, as a feisty verbal sparring partner to Jack, we see in her the archetypal mother for whom the entire world is a naughty child in need of a bit of hard discipline. She is a proud and intelligent woman trapped in a world that would rather medicate her with “a bloody tablet” than allow her to be a part of the wider world she longs to see.

To say that the performances in last night’s production of Happy Jack were exceptional would be a criminal understatement. They were, bar none, the best performances I have seen this year in any production of any size. Mr. Hammill and Ms. Godber were thoroughly believable as a married couple, and their connection was so beautifully understated that it transcended acting. It became truth. Whilst both actors gave stunning performances, the script offered Martha Godber more space and range to really show off her acting chops. From a wide-eyed credulous grandson to the scruffy Taffy Joe, and even a dodgy bartender in Hull, Ms. Godber was a chameleon. She is a star in the making.

From the moment I arrived at my seat, I could hear audience members remarking on the quality of the set. The oversized Beswick mallards that dominated the backdrop inspired reminiscences of aunties and neighbours with a similar love of kitsch sitting room ornamentation. The bulk of the play relies just on two wooden chairs which transform from railings to bathtubs on demand. Around the edge of the stage were heaps of clutter and buried furnishings that could be dipped into when needed for a glass or a coat as if the actors were rummaging through a memory box rather than a set.  

The costumes were equally well considered. With Liz in a simple housedress of dupplin check and Jack in brown trousers with braces and a simple cream coloured shirt, the costumes did not tie the characters to a single time period but allowed them to move seamlessly from the 40s to the 80s.

Snippets of vintage favourites such as Perry Como’s Catch a Falling Star were frequently used to punctuate scene changes in the play, reflecting the recurring music motif. This device went down a treat with the audience, who even occasionally sang quietly along with the old music standards.

With mining life increasingly becoming a relic of history, narratives like Happy Jack hold greater significance than ever. A contemporary viewing of this play incorporates 40 years of societal change, enriching the layered themes explored in its narrative. We can now appreciate Liz and Jack’s profound love without romanticising the harsh realities of family life around the pit. Their joys and hardships resonate authentically, offering lessons without the allure of nostalgia. Happy Jack was a deeply engaging experience that provoked hours of discussion and promises to linger in memory for years to come.

Happy Jack by John Godber plays Harrogate Theatre until Sat 29 June. More info click here.

Sean Sable is a Yorkshire-based freelance writer and editor specialising in Young Adult and Horror fiction, frequently at the same time. When she isn’t buried under a pile of books and manuscripts, she is looking for her keys and having extensive one-sided conversations, in Swedish, with her deaf cat. You can find her online at: www.seansable.co.uk