★★★

“this show reminds us how true connection can come in many forms”

Longing, vulnerability, alienation, second chances. As time passes, we are forced to take a look at our lives and reflect on the people we’ve lost, our career, who we are. Simon Stephens’ play Heisenberg, through a touching story of finding connection when you least expect it, captures the whole spectrum of human interaction, giving us poignant language along with witty banter.

Alex (Jenny Galloway), a 75-year old woman, receives an unexpected kiss on the neck from Georgie (Faline England), a bubbly American who can’t stop swearing. They start talking, or to be more accurate Georgie starts talking, firstly about herself and then trying to figure out Alex’s character by bombarding her with questions and assumptions, while Alex wants to find a way out of this conversation. A few days later, Georgie shows up at Alex’s shop and before long, a peculiar connection has formed which brings chaotic Georgie and quiet Alex closer and closer. Till Georgie asks for a favour that makes Alex question whether it’s all been fabricated or genuine.

Heisenberg is a production that creeps up on you. Awkwardness and wariness give way to authentic moments of vulnerable melancholy, side by side with hilarious one-liners. Light and dark come together in a blend that is familiar if you know Stephens’ work and writing style. The way director Katharine Farmer has handled the text, interchanging between letting the text lead the way, like a beautiful literary interval, and letting the characters shine through, is very interesting. Of course we need to appreciate the words, savour them, pay attention to them, but in a piece of theatre, the live spontaneity and action of the characters should be the focus, even in moments of wordy pondering or reminiscing. That would also help with the pacing, which feels like it’s dragging at times, the sharpness of the smart comebacks and comedic lines often suffering because of that.

The contrast between the two characters is distinct, created by two skilful and obviously experienced actors. Changing Alex’s sex from man to woman is a choice that alters the dynamic between Alex and Georgie and the impact the play has on the audience. The relationship between our two characters feels more tender, more equal, more focused on companionship. On the other hand, there is a general lack of spark and intrigue. It’s like sailing steadily in very calm waters, without any sort of fluctuation of the waves or the weather to make things more interesting and add a level of risk. Overall, it’s a choice that provides a new perspective onto the relationship, but not in a particularly successful way in the long run of the play.

Lighting designer Rajiv Pattani did not hold back and really stressed the journey’s turning points and mood changes smoothly and skilfully. Moreover, lighting assisted with the lack of any actual set, filling a stage that was left plainly bare (except for two chairs). Sound design (Hugh Sheehan) also came to the rescue, giving us clear locations by providing background noise when necessary. It’s quite an intimate stage, but still it’d be interesting to see the kind of set experimentation that could emerge to surround the actors.

Alex shares how the older she gets, the more she realises how brief life really is. And this show reminds us how true connection can come in many forms, even between people who seem like they have nothing in common. Heisenberg deals with themes that are universal and makes the passing of time, the briefness and vastness of life, feel a little less lonely.

23.5 HOURS at Park Theatre

★★★

“Crim’s script is compelling”

23.5 Hours markets itself as a ‘drama about the price of staying together when everything falls apart’. Set in a generic town in North America, 23.5 Hours is an investigation into accusations of sexual misconduct and statutory rape, namely between Tom Hodges (David Sturzaker)– a beloved high school teacher – and his 15-year-old female student. But director, Katharine Farmer – with Carey Crim’s script – skips the tantalising details of the scandal, the trial, and Tom’s two-year prison sentence. Instead, we really begin with Leigh (Lisa Dwan) – Tom’s wife – as she navigates life with Tom after his release, having become a social pariah herself, whilst also trying to protect her teenage son, Nicholas (Jem Matthews).

Any show that welcomes audiences in with the music of Nick Cave practically guarantees a philosophical workout, and 23.5 Hours delivers. It’s a deft investigation into trust and love set against the backdrop of unending online vitriol and constant scrutiny.

But the play opens shakily: Leigh and Tom return with best friends and couple, Jayne (an excellent Allyson Ava-Brown) and Bruce (Jonathan Nyati). They’re jovially swigging wine, teasing and silly, having returned from watching Tom’s indulgent two hour and forty eight minute high school production of Romeo and Juliet. Such joviality dichotomises the emotional apocalypse that lies in wait, but it’s a messy joviality, somewhat saccharine, not helped by the mess of American accents, which range from passable to not passable.

Once the drama kicks off however, its non-stop turbulence is endlessly engaging. Crim’s script is compelling, situating itself within the fallout of the Me Too movement, but hyperaware of this. In 23.5 Hours, nobody has moral superiority; everyone is self-righteous and reprehensible, yet never villainous. It delicately straddles the tightrope of judgement: as soon as you think you’ve digested the situation, you’ll be ushered elsewhere. And at some point in the show, you will sympathise with every character. Dealing with material this fraught, that is a real achievement. The show scrutinises the grey bits in-between the ethical absolutes that ordinarily dominate: it is beautifully nuanced, and occasionally very funny.

The stage design (Carla Goodman) complements the piece and Leigh’s psyche excellently. All the action takes place in Leigh’s house, to great effect. This static quality reflects her internal implacability: her denial that she could be in any way shaken in her love for Tom by mistrust, despite growing evidence against him. But as Leigh’s trust and self-belief fragments, so too does her house. Nick Cave also pops up again in the room décor, which I appreciated.

Another shoutout goes to wine, which trails behind almost every character: a skilfully subtle observation of multi-generational addiction and hypocrisy.

The show is perhaps a little too shouty: it would’ve benefitted from fewer screaming matches – which would also have shaved a necessary half hour off. It’s difficult to sustain such high stakes, but the cast are all strong, and Dwan carries its weightiness with aplomb.

One enduring ontological knot, however, is the plausibility of the enduring love between Tom and Leigh. Tom’s character has few redeeming features – despite his obvious intelligence – and it is hard to understand his appeal, or Leigh’s determination to stick by him (certain plot points complicate and elucidate this, but it does remain a concern). Fewer emotional climaxes would’ve made room for threat and tension, allowing the insidious seeds of doubt to fester more.

23.5 Hours is not perfect, but it’s truly a gripping show, which cannot but hook you in. And the cliffhanger will give you plenty to talk about on the tube home.

HEISENBERG

Arcola Theatre

★★★

“this show reminds us how true connection can come in many forms”

HEISENBERG

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 14th April 2025

by Stephanie Christodoulidou

Photography by Charlie Flint

Previously reviewed at this venue:

HEISENBERG

HEISENBERG

HEISENBERG

23.5 HOURS at Park Theatre

★★★

“Crim’s script is compelling”

23.5 HOURS at Park Theatre

Reviewed on 9th September 2024

by Violet Howson

Photography by Charles Flint

Previously reviewed at this venue:

23.5 HOURS

23.5 HOURS