ajhlovestheatre

1.17AM, OR UNTIL THE WORDS RUN OUT 

by Zoe Hunter Gordon

directed by Sarah Stacey

Finborough Theatre, London – until 7 March 2026

running time: 75 minutes no interval 

https://www.finboroughtheatre.co.uk/productions/117am-or-until-the-words-run-out

On paper, Zoe Hunter Gordon’s one act, two character, one set tragicomedy looks like a pretty minor work. In performance though, 1.17am, or until the words run out reveals itself as a hugely satisfying watch, more layered than one might expect, packing rich seams of insight, truth and humour into its fleet, relatable seventy five minutes. The writing is terrific: pithy, potty-mouthed, concise and so so true.

It examines the limits of grief and friendship – surely likely to be primary forces in the lives of much of any audience – through the prism of a pair of uneasy best friends, a family bereavement and a couple of revelations that feel as regretfully credible as they are riveting storytelling beats. It’s female focussed (the entire cast and production team are women) but it speaks to everyone.

Early twenty-something Katie (Catherine Ashdown) is packing up the room of her late brother, killed in a car crash, when she’s disturbed by her estranged best mate Roni (Eileen Duffy). Ashdown, nervy and defensive, and Duffy, warm and simultaneously strong but vulnerable, entirely convince as a pair of friends whose mutual affection has corroded, but probably not irreparably, through mistrust and miscommunication. It swiftly emerges that Roni has had a sexual relationship with Katie’s brother, though she’s since moved on to cohabiting with a young man with a similar Eastern European background to her own, while Katie struggles with her grief and bewilderment. Meanwhile, a party merrily rages upstairs as Katie’s brother’s flatmates have a last hurrah before eviction. 

Despite the friends being at loggerheads, Sarah Stacey’s terrific staging is suffused with affection. The audience becomes as invested in these young women reconnecting as the characters themselves are. Neither of the unseen men attached to them are necessarily what they initially seem and the family backgrounds of Katie and Roni are skilfully, naturalistically revealed. Hunter Gordon has an unerring skill for making utterly fascinating the minutiae of apparently ordinary lives, and the performances and production here match her work perfectly.

Watching the balance of power shift between Ashdown and Duffy is thrilling, as the recriminations and revelations fly. Ashdown could perhaps tone down some of the neurotic body language but she makes vivid and credible the waves of grief passing through this tortured young woman, and nails Katie’s neediness and flashes of anger. Duffy delivers a beautiful portrayal of an essentially kind soul with a wild streak, and the sense of loss and dislocation when she finally reaches the end of her tether is superbly done. Both young actors look like stars-in-the-making.

Sharp, touching and refreshingly contemporary, this is a really fine addition to the roster of new writing currently on the London stage. Totally worth the trip to Earls Court, and another example of why fringe theatre is so important.