Barcelona, set in 2009, tells the story of an American woman on a wild Bachelorette party who ends up at the apartment of a Spanish man she meets in a bar in Barcelona. Over the course of one intense night, unexpected revelations transform their initial, carefree encounter into something profoundly moving.

The stage opens with Lily Collins as Irene, the loud and brash American, and Álvaro Morte as Manuel, the more reserved Spaniard. Their chemistry is electric as they stumble in, tipsy and all over each other. Frankie Bradshaw’s set design captures the charm of an untouched early-2000s flat, while dynamic lighting changes in the windows subtly mark the passing hours and add a unique authenticity to the night.

Collins' and Morte’s acting is impeccable, and both make their West End debuts here. Collins impresses in her first theatrical role, entering wearing only one shoe, with her other foot visibly dirty—a small, almost comical detail that underlines her inebriation and uninhibited personality. Collins plays Irene as a caricature—immature, brash, and naïve, who embodies American stereotypes and makes frivolous comments, almost like an “Emily in Paris” but now out of place in Barcelona. In contrast, Manuel is calm, collected, and quietly mocking, effortlessly challenging Irene’s quirks and American-centric perspective. He eludes restrained pride, embodying the laid-back yet strong spirit of a local Spaniard. Morte’s portrayal brings depth and realism to the character of Manuel, juxtaposing Irene’s intense  energy with a quiet resilience that invites sympathy and intrigue.

The night’s initial frivolity and lustful attraction soon gives way to layers of vulnerability, especially as narrative twists emerge between the two characters. Suddenly, features which initially seemed out of place, become poignant signals and represent emotional entanglements and complications, revealing secrets. This blossoming plot cleverly manipulates perception and initial judgements of the characters. As tensions mount toward an unexpected revelation, Barcelona remains intense and gripping, keeping audience on the edge of their seat.

There are so many clever and small details in Barcelona which delicately represent the characters’ impact on one another. For instance, Irene’s inability to scrub away red wine from her outfit is a symbol of her sin and palpable regret. As Irene’s character evolves and gains confidence, becoming defiant, Manuel’s character also experiences a profound shift, demonstrating the clever mirroring of the characters, which is exhibited throughout. In a symbolic gesture, Irene is now wearing both shoes, marking her transformation into a stronger, grounded figure who, in turn, encourages Manuel to reimagine life’s possibilities.

Barcelona, at its heart, is a beautiful journey of character transformation and development, as demonstrated through its finer details, including the clever use of O Mio Babbino Caro from Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi to plant a narrative seed long before Beth Wohl (the author) and Lynette Lynton (the director) allow it to blossom. The aria’s message of a daughter pleading with her father for love and understanding, parallels Irene’s own struggles, as well as Manuel’s unspoken sorrow, becoming a metaphor of their transformations. This poignant piece underscores their journey, highlighting the play’s emotional crescendo with grace.

The nuanced shifts in their characters and the gradual unravelling of each actor’s performance reveal surprising emotional depth, and the bond between Manuel and Irene deepens, showcasing how chance encounters can profoundly change our lives. Their costumes—hers white and sparkly, his black and subdued—reflect their contrasting personalities and journeys. What begins as a night of reckless fun transforms into a life-changing encounter, with each saving the other in an unexpected way. They don’t even share their names until the end, underscoring how irrelevant identity is in the face of shared experiences and mutual healing.

Barcelona is a hauntingly beautiful play that lingers long after the curtain call. Don’t miss out on this striking production, playing at the Duke of York’s Theatre until January 11, 2025.