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.