Tom, a beloved drama teacher, enjoys nothing more than directing a school play. Tonight he is hosting post-show drinks for two of his closest friends after his production of Romeo and Juliet. Accompanied by his wife, Leigh, they sip wine, relive old memories and discuss the budding talent they have just seen onstage. Then Tom’s phone rings and all of their lives are tipped into a nightmare.
Carey Crim’s play morphs from a standard family drama into a forensic study of human behaviour and ethics. Tom is accused and convicted of sexual misconduct against a pupil starring in his production, forcing his loved ones to decide whom they should trust and stand by. He is sent to prison and the world to which he returns is full of doubt. Despite Tom’s constant pleas of innocence, even those closest to him struggle to wholly believe his words.
At its best, Crim’s dialogue is natural, effervescent and brilliant. But as the play progresses, it begins to flow like a series of moral questions rather than an advancing narrative. The crime itself becomes secondary to its fallout, with the characters thrown into a frenzy of uncertainty. In the leading role of Leigh, Lisa Dwan looks increasingly more broken by each interaction with her husband. We watch as she tries to squeeze herself back into her once adoring marriage. But her instinctive physical discomfort gives away the feelings she wants to be able to forget. As Tom, David Sturzaker’s gentle, unthreatening tone grows to become more sinister.
Director Katharine Farmer stops the play in its tracks with freeze frames and slow motion movement. Although these vignettes are striking, they feel odd in a production that otherwise relies on naturalism. 23.5 Hours is the second play Crim has had staged at the Park theatre, after the arresting Never Not Once in 2022, also about the aftermath of a sexual assault and directed by Farmer. This one suffers in its shadow: still worthwhile, but more of a polemic.
At Park theatre, London, until 5 October
