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Review: Jailbaby at Griffin Theatre

Review by Rosie Niven


What would you do if you made the biggest mistake of your life? What would you do if you were caught?


One house, a bag of valuables, just enough to pay for the team soccer trip - it was all meant to be over quickly. But when the robbery goes wrong, and AJ is the only one to be identified by the victim, his world is abruptly turned upside down as the fresh 18 year old is sent from the confines of the schoolyard to the confines of a harsh institution that seeks to dehumanise and degrade him. 


Suzie Miller’s Jailbaby plunges right into the heart of AJ’s story from the first page. Following AJ through the judicial system and into an unforgiving cell reminds us of how quickly one choice can change your life, and how hard it can be to move past it, especially when the hand you’ve been dealt is a lot less favourable than others. Introduced to another boy also skirting the law, privileged Seth who is sick of conforming to his parents’ standards and desperately trying to run away, Miller starts to unpack the class divide and the way that two boys on the edge from very different backgrounds find very different fates when forced to face their crimes. 


The powerhouse ensemble of Lucia Mastrantone, Anthony Taufa and Anthony Yangoyan work effortlessly to elevate Miller’s text to new heights, dynamically shifting between multiple characters in an intimate space. Mastrantone and Taufa take on a range of adult figures in AJ and Seth’s lives, some attempting to guide but none ever quite managing to steer them on the right path - each one more engaging than the last. Yangoyan, in the roles of AJ and Seth, displays the true breadth of his skill in Jailbaby. Both characters feel rich and clearly defined, even as he weaves between them rapidly in a powerful final scene. When the script falters, it is Yangoyan that pulls us through. 


Despite diving headfirst into the confronting reality that many individuals face when engaging with the criminal justice system, there is a clear respect in the way Director Andrea James unravels Jailbaby. Treading carefully to ensure that these very real traumas aren’t simply put on display for the entertainment of the audience, James handles these challenging narratives with deep empathy and understanding for those who have experienced sexual violence behind bars.


The vastly different worlds of AJ and Seth are expressed beautifully in Isabel Hudson’s set design, with Hudson’s cold and clinical walls encroaching onto the already intimate space. The stage feels almost claustrophobic, reminiscent of the world closing in on AJ after his sentencing. Lit by Verity Hampson’s transformative design, the world outside the prison appears and disappears before our eyes, leaving us locked in with AJ and unable to escape. Phil Downing’s music and sound design push us further into the core of the pain, delivering rich tones and waves of sound that flow smoothly with the pulse of the narrative. The only flaw is that this set did not seem to be tailored well to the Griffin stage - one side of the audience seemed to be excessively favoured, with a number of powerful scenes behind perspex lost to those on the far side, leaving us yearning for more. 


While there is an overwhelming sense of sympathy for AJ and the horrors that unfold for him, what is missing is a powerful punch that instills a deep empathy in the audience. We feel sorry for AJ, but at no point are we drawn in deep enough to place ourselves in his shoes. Unfortunately, it is empathy that encourages action, and in a play that calls on us to question the ethics of our legal system and the inhumane treatment of those behind bars, without that empathy it is easy to keep this narrative distant from our own, never encouraged to take action. Jailbaby feels like a technically strong work that is missing its heart. 


Regardless of whether or not it hit the mark, Miller’s Jailbaby adds to the mix another incredibly relevant scathing critique of our criminal justice system and the blind eye we turn when horrific things happen to someone who has already done the wrong thing. The unforgiving way we approach those in the system does nothing but continue to keep them in that system and never seeks to fully reform - especially if you’re working class. 



Image Supplied

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