Courage and Love in The Face of Jizo

The Face of Jizo

The Face of Jizo Rating

★★★★★

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Japanese playwright Hisashi Inoue’s script must make for some tender reading. Translated by his long-time friend, Australian Roger Pulvers, The Face of Jizo is brought to life onstage inside the intimate space of the Reginald Theatre by co-director and actor Shingo Usami and Mayu Iwasaki. Omusubi Production’s The Face of Jizo delicately unravels the ache in a heart, drawing the audience in for an emotional journey for a sensitive topic.

Set in the aftermath some three years after the dropping of the atomic bomb, the story opens to a severe thunderstorm. Lightning flashes and Mitsue (Iwasaki) umbrella in hand, enters her house, (a neat shack, designed with Japanese authenticity by Tobhiyah Stone Feller) with elevated tatami mats and a small, tidy kitchen. She is terrified. Calling for her father, “Daddy, I’m scared!” her father appears and there, Takezo (Usami) calms her, and we see the first glimpse into a beautiful father and daughter relationship. He tells her, “You got your reasons for being scared and you shouldn’t be ashamed of it. Nobody blames the victim of the bomb for getting shook up over something that flashes, even if it’s just an innocent little firefly.” I loved the significance of Takezo’s reference to a firefly; it beautifully captures how even something as small and delicate as a firefly can traumatise the innocence of the victims, making their pain all the more poignant and justified.

Mitsue’s job as a librarian brings her in contact with Kinoshita, (unseen) a man who collects items related to the atom bomb. Mitsue is in possession of some items, notably the face of Jizo, the guardian of children and travellers, which is half destroyed in war. A blooming relationship appears to be growing, but as the audience hears, Mitsue’s belief in finding true happiness for herself is shadowed with self-sabotage. Iwasaki brought the barbed sharpness of survivor’s guilt pain to the stage in a raw and genuine performance that brought tears to my eyes, and I know I was not the only one in the theatre who felt this deeply.

 

 

In this performance, on the 80-year anniversary in August 2025, it felt one message was clear; an act of inhumanity affects everyone – the innocents, for years to come and this unnatural act should never occur again. Despite the tears though, The Face of Jizo is a story of hope, love and courage. Usami’s portrayal of Takezo was captivating; his blending of a wise, paternal presence with a playful, larger-than-life humour added depth, warmth and levity to some scenes.

Composer Me-Lee Hay created a backdrop to Hiroshima in the late 1940’s with some beautiful music to accompany some scenes, as did Zachary Saric’s sound design throughout the play. The lighting by Max Cox captured the horror of the atomic bomb’s flashes, conveying an unspeakable event.

The vision of co-directors David Lynch and Shingo Usami for this timely production was outstanding, with their insight enhancing the emotional impact for which it was intended.
The Face of Jizo, a Japanese / Australian production in the Seymour Centre is theatre that tenderly addresses generational trauma as well as imparting courage and resilience.

The performance I attended on opening night, August 22, was a sold-out show that concluded with a well-deserved standing ovation. I highly recommend watching The Face of Jizo, as it is sure to continue moving audiences throughout the entire run.

Seymour Centre: Corner of City Road and Cleveland St, Chippendale
Season: 21 August – 6 September 2025
Time: 80 minutes, no interval
Tickets: www.seymourcentre.com/event/the-face-of-jizo

To book tickets to The Face of Jizo, please visit https://www.seymourcentre.com/event/the-face-of-jizo/.

Photographer: Kathy Luu

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The School For Scandal

The School For Scandal

The School For Scandal Rating

★★★★★

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Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s The School for Scandal has endured since 1777 because its satire of gossip, hypocrisy, and vanity never goes out of fashion. Lane Cove Theatre Company’s latest production, directed by Christine Firkin, embraces that timelessness with a minimalist hand — proving that sharp performances can do far more than ornate scenery.

The set never shifted: chairs and a chaise lounge with a plain backdrop lit in washes of pink, purple, green, or blue to signal a change of location. Costumes were simple but distinctive, each character marked by clear colours and silhouettes so the audience could follow the action at a glance. This pared-back aesthetic threw all attention onto Sheridan’s biting wit and the players’ performances.

And what a performance it was. Daisy Cousins stood out as Lady Teazle, bringing both uproarious comic energy and subtle facial nuance; a raised eyebrow from her could puncture a scene. Samuel Chapman’s Joseph Surface matched her precision, playing the schemer with quiet menace and expressive restraint. Together, they showed how much this production relied on nuance as well as volume.

 

 

The ensemble also shone in versatility with several performers in multiple roles. Benjamin Walsh balanced rakish charm as Charles Surface with sly gossip as Crabtree. Joyce Sharma shifted nimbly between Snake’s sycophancy, Careless’s looseness, and the reimagined Lady Elizabeth Backbite, keeping each sharply distinct. Most impressive was Phillipa Coleman, moving from the eager prattle of Mrs Candour to the sober honesty of Rowley without a hint of overlap — two utterly different figures brought vividly to life.

Trent Gardiner anchored the play as Sir Peter Teazle, sparring with Cousins in exchanges that veered between exasperation and tenderness. Ciara Briggs lent Lady Sneerwell a cool edge, while Michelle Bellany gave gravitas to the adapted Lady Olivia Surface and her disguises.

Two set-pieces defined the evening. The “auction of ancestors” became a comic highlight when portraits were played by fellow cast members holding frames and I’m wigs and hats, turning satire into playful physical theatre. Later, the famous screen scene — one of Sheridan’s great inventions — was handled with zest: Joseph frantically hiding both Sir Peter in the closet and Lady Teazle behind the screen, the deception stretched to breaking point before it inevitably collapsed.

This performance of School for Scandal shows that spectacle is optional when satire is alive. With wit, inventiveness, and a company able to juggle multiple roles without missing a beat, Sheridan’s centuries-old comedy felt as fresh as ever.

To book tickets to The School For Scandal, please visit https://www.lanecovetheatrecompany.com.au/season-2025.html.

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The Shark Arm Case

Shark Arm Case

Shark Arm Case Rating

★★★★★

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Sydney has always feared the shark; every Sydneysider’s felt some trepidation when venturing into the waters that surround our beautiful city. But as it turns out, sharks come in human form too. Shark Arm Case, a joint collaboration between Deadhouse Productions and Museums of History NSW, shows just how dangerous and destructive those particular creatures can be.

On 17th April 1935, a fisherman caught a small shark off Coogee Beach. As he reeled in his catch, a four metre tiger shark swallowed the smaller fish. The man then hooked the tiger shark quickly taking it to the Coogee Aquarium Baths, a very popular attraction at the time, where he knew the tiger shark would bring in crowds during the coming Anzac Day weekend. The crowds did indeed arrive to peer at the trapped shark. Horror ensued when the animal suddenly vomited up a human arm. Unsurprisingly, initial impressions were the owner of the arm had been an unfortunate victim of a shark attack given that Sydney had recently experienced a spate of shark attacks. Medical examination, however, showed the arm had not been bitten off; instead it appeared to have been severed by a knife or other sharp instrument. Was the arm’s owner murdered and if so, whodunnit?

Sydney’s Justice & Police Museum near Circular Quay is the perfect setting for an immersive theatre performance depicting the nefarious activities of the city’s 1930s criminal underworld. After police realised they were dealing with a victim of crime rather than a shark attack, the press soon picked up the story. The arm featured a tattoo of two boxers in battle; it was this tattoo and the coverage of the story in the city’s newspapers that drew the attention of Edwin Smith. His brother, Jim, a small-time crook turned police informant (known as a ‘fizgig’), had been missing for weeks. Coincidentally, Jim also had a distinctive tattoo on his forearm of two boxers. Had Jim Smith been murdered? This is the pressing question the performance opens with. The play starts with Jim’s wife Gladys (Madison Chippendale), and another character Mrs M (Karli Evans), in Gladys’ living room. The audience surrounds the two, witnessing Gladys’ harrowing realisation that the victim may well be her husband. In the next scene, we’re introduced to Reginald Holmes (Barret Griffin) and his wife, Inie (Roz Hicks) in their north shore home. Holmes runs a successful boat-building business but is also involved in illegal activity using his speedboats to smuggle drugs and other contraband into Sydney. We hear a heated conversation between Holmes and Patrick Brady, another small-time crook and associate of Holmes. Holmes’ fear of Brady is palpable. What exactly have Brady and Holmes been up to?

 

 

Later we move into a larger room where our guide and the Aquarium manager’s wife in a combined role (played by actor Kyla Ward, who is also the show’s writer) fills in the backstory. A screen projection shows the moment the tiger shark purged itself of the tattooed arm – a suitably gory moment in the riveting production that elicited more than a few groans of disgust. Police investigators Frank Mathews and Allmond now take on the case. Our personable guide informs us that Mathews does not like losing a case; he will do whatever it takes to win. But maybe this time Mathews will meet his match, coming up against a lack of convincing evidence and a stubbornly impenetrable criminal underbelly.

The performers are truly the compelling force of this clever production. Driven by powerful dialogue, the play takes us into a fascinating cold case that to this day remains unsolved. Mark Stokes as the feisty Mathews and Sam as his calm offsider, Allmond, are the backbone of the play. A yin and yang duo, both detectives try to solve a case that lacks a crucial piece of evidence: the victim’s body. Kyla Lee Ward as the guide is particularly entertaining. Her commentary provides humour and levity throughout the piece. Ward is also to be commended for her writing. Roz Hicks gives an emotional performance as the long-suffering Mrs Holmes. In fact, it is the women in this story who suffer the most, standing by men who repeatedly let them down through the poor life choices they make. Barret Griffin as Reginald Holmes captures the businessman’s cravenness; he later adeptly transforms into the commanding Clive Evatt KC, who represents Brady at the coroner’s inquest. Mention also goes to Steve Maresca as Jim Smith and Karli Evans as Grace Brady. Kyle Stephens’ lighting design and props managed by Lew McDonnell added just the right atmosphere and mood to each scene.

Deadhouse Productions are certainly keeping Sydney’s criminal history alive through their immersive theatre productions. Judging by the full audience on the night I attended, there is truly an insatiable appetite for true crime stories such as the Shark Arm Case. So, if you fancy yourself a detective and you’re hungry for some unsolved crime, get along to the Justice & Police Museum for a fascinating night out.

To book tickets to Shark Arm Case, please visit https://mhnsw.au/whats-on/events/shark-arm-case/.

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Seventeen

Seventeen

Seventeen Rating

★★★★★

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The Arts Theatre Cronulla’s latest production of ‘Seventeen’ written by Matthew Whittet and directed by Susan Geldart is somewhat of a living time capsule.

Centered around 6 seventeen-year-olds on the final day of high school, this coming-of-age story is told by a group of older actors whose own high school experience was a little while ago. The decision to have these actors revisit this stage of life really enforced the nostalgia of that moment. Having graduated not too long ago myself, I vividly remember this period of uncertainty and excitement mixed with a healthy dose of ‘what on Earth do I do now?’, and I think that this cast really nailed it.

From the moment I walked through the theatre doors and saw a swing set and monkey bars, I was transported back to a time where the only things I had to worry about were whether I’d completed my maths homework and who I was sitting with at lunch that day. Over the next 90 or so minutes, we were then brought into that world, and hit with a bittersweet kaleidoscope of emotions. Fear, hope, love, uncertainty and so much more, twisted into a chaotic blend of what it means to be young are told through the lens of hindsight.

This play has so many twists and turns, and you never really know what the characters are going to come out with next. There is a bit of a shock and awe style to the script, particularly with the direction of some of the characters stories and relationships, that had the audience enraptured.

The underlying theme of preservation, which is what I mean by a living time capsule, ‘Seventeen’ is both stuck in a moment in time, and evolving before our eyes. We, as people, are forever living out moments that we may or may not know the impact they’ll have on us in the future, and this story shows us how beautiful and terrifying that can be. Particularly as kids, we try to hold on to the people who have shaped us, sometimes longer than we should and these actors really brought to life that craving for a last piece of stability before morning changes everything forever.

 

 

Mike and Lizzy’s sibling bond was brought to life so perfectly by Scott Brawley and Narelle Jaeger, respectively. As the younger sister to brother’s, it was like watching a re-enactment of my own childhood, doing whatever you could to hang out with them even when they were “too cool” to be seen with their little sister. They bickered like it was sport, but when moments of vulnerability crept in, you saw how deeply they defined each other’s world. Lizzy’s ability to see straight through her older brother, despite being 14 was piercing. That’s the beauty of Whittet’s writing and Geldart’s direction. There’s this clear understanding that siblings hold our history, even when we’re desperate to outrun it.

Thematically, the play hums with “no regrets” energy. It’s not about recklessly throwing caution to the wind, but rather about fully showing up. For your friends, for the moments you can’t get back, and arguably most importantly, for the version of yourself you’ll only ever be once.

By the final moments, I found myself grinning and tearing up in equal measure. I have to commend the beauty of Patrick Cranney’s portrayal of Ronny. With or without dialogue, you were encapsulating. The ability to convey everything with just your body and face is incredible. Cranney gave his character such raw authenticity that I simply couldn’t look away, even when I was trying my hardest not to cry in a room full of people.

The play captures the messy, contradictory magic of being 17, and this group of actors are just as magic when they take the stage together. There is a language warning for younger audiences, but I cannot recommend this enough. ‘Seventeen’ is running at the Arts Theatre Cronulla, until September 6, make sure to grab a ticket before it’s too late!

To book tickets to Seventeen, please visit https://www.artstheatrecronulla.com.au/seventeen.

Photographer: Jeffrey Gall, Mark Phillips, Maria Franklin

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