Review: The Face of Jizo at Seymour Centre

Review by Anja Bless

A loud bang crashes and a white light flashes through the window, illuminating a basic kitchen beside a tatami mat living room. Mitsue (Mayu Iwasaki) can be heard screaming as she runs into the room, terrified. Her father (Shingo Usami) ushers her to hide with him in the cupboard. Even from the opening scene, the terror and legacy of the atomic bomb that decimated Hiroshima is palpable in The Face of Jizo, now showing at Seymour Centre. 

Written by Hisashi Inoue and directed by Shingo Usami and David Lynch, this production of The Face of Jizo is showing in both English and Japanese, following its sold-out Australian premiere at The Old Fitz in 2023. It seems fitting that the play is shown also in its original language as every element of the production, from its set design (Tobhiyah Stone Feller) to the story-telling and interactions by Mitsue and her father, work to transport the audience back to the world of Hiroshima in 1948. 

The Face of Jizo portrays the journey Mitsue is taking to recover physically, mentally, and emotionally from the impacts of the atomic bomb. Her experience captures the disbelief felt by the Japanese and the world that such a weapon would be used without warning against people, civilian and military personnel alike. Mitsue must learn how to open herself up to new beginnings whilst living with the horrors she experienced and the losses she suffered. Helping her along the way is the humorous and good-natured presence of her father, who encourages her to embark on her new life, whilst also guiding her to look back and consider what happened to her when the bomb fell and thereafter. Just as Hiroshima, Nagasaki, and the world had to navigate how to live in a post-bomb world. 

There was certainly not a dry eye left in the house, with the performance earning a well-deserved standing ovation. Iwasaki and Usami’s playful banter, affectionate bickering, and familial clashes drew the audience into the life and the home of their characters. Inoue’s translated words still carry their impact, a poignant reminder in turbulent times of the inhumanity of war, and the other-worldly horrors that weapons of mass destruction can leave behind. 

Only occasionally did Iwasaki or Usami stumble over their lines, but these minor slip ups almost lent to the style of rapid-fire discussion and debate between father and daughter. Everything from the play’s set to costuming and props helped create the illusion that the audience were flies on the wall of Mitsue’s home. Small details such as Mitsue and her father taking off their geta to walk on the tatami mat, or the noren over the gap in the stage curtains helped to pay homage to the lives and homes that were destroyed after the dropping of the bomb, and how Hiroshima and Japan rebuilt. 

Whether you are compelled by the history of nuclear warfare, or the intricate manner of Japanese storytelling, The Face of Jizo is not to be missed. It is a timely reminder that humanity and love can emerge from the ashes of disaster, and that lessons from history continue can carry meaning even 80 years after the event. 

Image Supplied