23.5 Hours West End Reviews

The actual tragedy lies with Tom and Leigh’s son, Nick. Jem Matthews is remarkable as the striking example of an emotionally disenfranchised youth. 23.5 Hours hits so hard because it doesn’t present an outlandish picture of abuse or a creepy groo...

The actual tragedy lies with Tom and Leigh’s son, Nick. Jem Matthews is remarkable as the striking example of an emotionally disenfranchised youth. 23.5 Hours hits so hard because it doesn’t present an outlandish picture of abuse or a creepy groomer; these are our neighbours, our friends. It opens up a startling discourse, especially because Crim never solves the mystery regarding Tom’s actions. It’s an average family with a pretty home (Carla Goodman made some solid interior design choices) and a normal life. He’s a teacher, she’s a nurse. Their child is (well, used to be) a good-natured, well-adjusted student. When did it all go wrong? The writer suggests everything might have been wrong all along.

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 char...

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.

When it was first staged in America a decade ago the piece was entitled Conviction, a slick play on words. Katharine Farmer, who directed Crim’s rape drama Never Not Once at this venue in 2022, doesn’t always seem at ease with the abrupt transiti...

When it was first staged in America a decade ago the piece was entitled Conviction, a slick play on words. Katharine Farmer, who directed Crim’s rape drama Never Not Once at this venue in 2022, doesn’t always seem at ease with the abrupt transitions from soul-searching to sitcom-style humour. The result is that there were moments of laughter at inappropriate moments, especially in an overlong second half. Nevertheless, Dwan always holds our attention. We head home with unanswered questions tumbling around in our head.

The first ‘half’ (inverted commas mine) was surprisingly brief, which meant a rather lengthy second ‘half’. That the specifics of Tom’s conviction weren’t immediately made clear helped to maintain a level of interest and intrigue througho...

The first ‘half’ (inverted commas mine) was surprisingly brief, which meant a rather lengthy second ‘half’. That the specifics of Tom’s conviction weren’t immediately made clear helped to maintain a level of interest and intrigue throughout – more details were still coming out well into the second act. Plenty of food for thought in this gritty and intricately complex story.