Sarah Schmitt

Marjorie Prime speaks to our deeply human longing for connection and prompts us to reflect on how much of our past we would choose to preserve, and what memories we might leave.

It’s the fragile humanity at the centre of this play that gives power to the storytelling. In an imagined future, we can turn our lost loved ones into ‘Primes’. These realistic holographic recreations provide emotional support as we navigate our grief and move forward with our lives. It’s an intriguing concept that leaves us questioning how far we would go when gripped by uncertainty and grief.

The story introduces Marjorie, an elderly woman living with dementia. Her daughter Tess and son-in-law Jon give her a ‘Prime’ of her late husband Walter to provide comfort. This holographic Walter appears eternally youthful and endlessly patient, sitting perfectly upright, attentive and still as he listens to stories about Marjorie’s life. Each day he absorbs new anecdotes, ready to repeat them later, gradually constructing a version of the man he once was through the memories of others.

The effect is both touching and unsettling. Walter’s kindness is constant, and he pays utmost attention to Marjorie. As she interacts with him, her daughter Tess watches with unease. She struggles with complicated feelings, sometimes resentful of the gentleness her mother shows the Prime, the same warmth she herself longed for growing up. At the same time, Tess is determined to shield certain painful memories from the Prime, hoping to spare Marjorie distress. Her husband Jon, however, sees value in honesty, even if the memories are difficult.

Moments of humour slip gently into the narrative too. At one point Marjorie persuades Walter to embellish the story of their engagement by inserting a movie-theatre outing to Casablanca, improving the memory just a little. It’s a small moment, but one that neatly illustrates how fluid and fragile memory can be.

Between scenes, blackouts punctuate the action, echoing the gaps forming in Marjorie’s mind. As the story unfolds, time begins to stretch and shift. After Marjorie’s death, she herself returns as a Prime. Yet instead of offering comfort to a grieving Tess, she seems to deepen the pain. Years pass in quiet leaps, and while people age and die, the Primes remain with their distorted, incomplete memories of the past.

When the play debuted in 2014, its exploration of artificial intelligence and memory felt speculative. Watching it now in 2026, with AI firmly embedded in everyday life, the questions it raises create discomfort. Is recreating the dead a source of solace, or does it blur the boundaries of grief in ways we may not yet understand?

This production at Roxy Lane Theatre brings the story beautifully to life. Janet Dickinson is compelling as Marjorie, capturing both vulnerability and warmth, while Finn Happ’s youthful Walter embodies the eerie calm of the Prime. Liza Black, who also directs the production, gives Tess a moving emotional depth and is supported by Chris Harris as the steady and kind-hearted Jon.

Short-listed for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 2015, Marjorie Prime remains as thoughtful and moving as ever. It’s a tender reflection on memory, technology and the enduring complexity of love.

Congratulations to the cast and crew on a heartfelt and thought-provoking performance. Marjorie Prime is currently showing at the Roxy Theatre from Friday to Sunday at 7.30pm, with Sunday matinee performances at 2.30, until 22 March.

To book tickets to Marjorie Prime, please visit https://www.taztix.com.au/event/roxylanetheatre/.

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