Friday 29 August 2025

Review by Paul Neeson (Arts Wednesday)

Jizo (地蔵/womb of the earth): stone statues that have a spiritual power for protection and longevity.

80 years after the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, The Face of Jizo could not be more relevant or timely. It probes the importance of telling and re-telling histories wracked with difficult and troubling behaviours and memories. The trauma of survivor’s guilt and how to move beyond it is central to this story, but the actions of the Japanese war machine are also obliquely alluded to. Less obliquely is the description of the horror and suffering of the innocent Japanese people of Hiroshima. A gruesome and incredibly moving tale in the hands of the two actors Shingo Usami and Mayu Iwasaki.

Celebrated Japanese poet and playwright, Hisashi Inoue wrote the play in 1994 and it was premiered in Japan. The English translation by Roger Pulvers had its Australian premiere at the Old Fitz in 2023 starring the same two actors who are reviving it for Omusubi Productions’ season at the Seymour Centre.

Immediately we are transported to Japan through the simple and stylish set design of Tobhiyah Stone Feller. It is three years after the bomb was dropped and young librarian Mitsue (Iwasaki) returns home to find her father Takezo (Usami) there. It is an intimate family scene: the father is playful, the daughter has received some attention from a young man at the library. But all is not quite right. Takezo takes a part in the preparation of food, but is unable to eat or drink anything himself. They have not seen each other for three years.

Slowly and subtly it is revealed throughout the play that Takezo died in the blast (a brilliant device from Inoue) and that his ghost could only return to the home through his daughter’s emotions and thoughts of a possible future life. His vocation is to help her move forward. Up until meeting this young admirer, she thought she did not deserve to live, but now maybe there is a glimmer of hope.

The two actors are brilliant in their intensity and their ability to shift from playful laughter to absolute horror and grief. The oscillation between the two was sometimes too rapid, but maybe that was Inoue’s point about the irrational nature of survivor’s guilt.

The work of Lighting Designer, Matt Cox and Sound Designer, Zachary Saric was more understated but embellished the action at just the right moments. Reading the credits now I realise there was also a composer, Me-Lee Hay, and it is a credit to the actors and the production that the music did not draw attention to itself, and that the acting was so intense all else was just in the background.

Many in the audience (myself included) were brought to tears in the final moments, before a thin ray of hope for the future appeared on the not too distant horizon. Brilliant timing from the co-directors David Lynch and Shingo Usami.

At times a bleak and harrowing tale, but beautifully leavened with humour and play. The message of the importance of truth-telling and re-telling was reminiscent of our own first nations people’s journey. This is a play that will have you questioning and contemplating the issues for days, if not weeks, after leaving the theatre.