The Crimes of Dorian Gray

I’ll admit, I side-eyed the concept at first—another Dorian Gray adaptation? But *The Crimes of Dorian Gray* isn’t just a retread; it’s a full-throated reinvention that weaponizes the audiobook format. The podcast framing isn’t just gimmickry: the ‘host’ (Underwood) sounds like she’s uncovering secrets in real time, her voice tightening with horror as she pieces together Dorian’s century-spanning killing spree. The standout here is Neil Brown Jr., whose Dorian oscillates between hypnotic charm and exhausted detachment, like a man who’s seen too much and still chooses to wield the knife. The ensemble cast elevates even minor roles—Lara Pulver’s chilling turn as a Nazi hunter who *admires* Dorian’s work lingers long after her scene ends. That said, the pacing isn’t perfect. The first act rushes through Dorian’s early kills, leaving some historical victims underdeveloped—you’ll wish for more breathing room in the 1920s segment, where the stakes feel hastily sketched. And while the sound design (crackling radio static, sudden gunshots) is immersive, a few transitions between ‘podcast’ and ‘drama’ are jarring, as if the editors couldn’t decide whether this was a play or a documentary. Still, the finale’s twist—delivered with Schiff’s signature gravitas—lands like a gut punch. It’s not a flawless listen, but it’s a *provocative* one, the kind of audiobook that’ll have you pausing to argue with the narrator. Ideal for fans of *The Only Good Indians*’ moral horror or *Serial*-style deep dives with a supernatural edge.