★★½

“Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story”

This new adaptation brings Ali Smith’s 2016 novel, which is widely viewed as ‘the first post-Brexit novel’ to the stage.

Across two timelines we follow 13-year-old Elisabeth Demand as she befriends her whimsical elderly neighbour Daniel Gluck and the same two characters, 20 years later as Daniel lies comatose in a care facility. There are also a couple of scenes which deviate into the fantastical. A scene between Daniel and his sister, which takes place in a dream world and a scene which details the life of 1960s pop artist Pauline Boty.

Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story, which follows an unlikeable and uninteresting protagonist.

Grace Venning’s set design is playful, props are pulled from drawers and a chaise longue is propped against a backdrop of autumnal trees. There’s innovative use of plastic dust sheets, especially in an evocation of The Tempest. It’s this moment too where Ali Hunter’s lighting design comes into force. Jamie Lu’s sound is most interesting in its subtle hum of the care facility.

There are some glittering moments. Daniel and his sister, who charmingly calls him her summer brother, dance around each other while she’s dressed in a suit of armour. Gary Lilburn as Daniel is joy encapsulated. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he embodies the aging bohemian, making it achingly clear that this story should follow him, by far the most interesting character. This scene particularly sparkles, in part because of clever movement direction from Vickers, but also because of the stunning performance from Nancy Crane. She multi roles throughout the show, some highlights being the smug bureaucratic Post Office worker, the knowing Eastern European cleaner and the New York psychotherapist. She gives each of these women a depth and realism and brings an effortless wit. For much of the show she watches on from the side-lines, a peculiar directorial choice, but her reactions are scene stealing. Lilburn and Crane’s playfulness and joy in this scene is a delightful respite from the gloom that hangs over much of the play.

Both Rebecca Banatvala and Sophie Ward are also strong, as mother and daughter, it’s just that their characters are hard to pinpoint. Elisabeth is utterly joyless, with a single-minded focus on Gluck, which is never fully untangled. Her mother is under explored, and her state of the nation monologues feel tired, nearly a decade on. While ostensibly a political commentary, nothing new or fresh is discussed. Characters bemoan their tiredness with the system, the liars, the current situation. There are comments on racist graffiti and the migrant crisis but it feels tangential to the main narrative. This play doesn’t fully decide what it is, whether it’s a family drama or a state of the nation lament. And it’s not clear what, in 2024, it is adding to the conversation about Brexit, which is relevant or interesting to today.

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.

AUTUMN at Park Theatre

★★½

“Harry McDonald’s dialogue is snappy and Charlotte Vickers’ direction energetic, but little can save the meandering aimlessness of this story”

AUTUMN at Park Theatre

Reviewed on 18th October 2024

by Auriol Reddaway

Photography by Harry Elletson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

AUTUMN

AUTUMN

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