We think we know how World War II ended… but do we, really? The Face of Jizo forces us to see Hiroshima through its own eyes, the trauma, the guilt…the stories we never hear.

Set three short years after the catastrophic atomic bombing, the city is still shocked and broken. Its streets and homes are scarred. Twisted, melted artefacts carry the weight of loss, destruction, and memory. Yet life continues, as people rebuild their homes, routines, and communities, determined to live on. The Face of Jizo is a meditation on the beginning of healing, showing how remembrance and storytelling help people process the effects of war. It reveals both the human cost of conflict and the strength and resilience of ordinary individuals.

The script by Hisashi Inoue, translated by Roger Pulvers, is quietly masterful, balancing sparse dialogue with moments of profound reflection. Every line feels deliberate, each pause laden with meaning. It allows the audience to inhabit the emotional world of this intimate one act play about Mitsue, a young librarian, and her father Takezo, who returns after a long absence. Together they struggle to reconnect, and find hope amidst the aftermath, each coping in very different ways. 

 Takezo clings to humour and optimism, living in the present and finding strength in kinship. Beneath this, he carries anger and pain, but he does not let it define him. 

Ultimately however, this is Mitsue’s story, about how a younger generation carries the weight of survivor’s guilt, and is hesitant to fully embrace life or connection with others. Mitsue lives a life of “living but not dead,” doggedly holding herself back from happiness because she fears it could all be taken away in an instant.

The terror of long-term radiation sickness is always present, as families struggle with questions about their health, safety, and what lies ahead for their children. Beginning anew opens Mitsue’s life to hope but also risk. Her father is both comforting and challenging, anchoring Mitsue in the past while urging her toward a better future.

Shingo Usami and Mayu Iwasaki deliver tightly woven but grounded performances, full of subtlety and emotion. Usami brings Takezo’s resilience and warmth to life with some lovely comic touches. Iwasaki portrays Mitsue with a delicate balance of fragility and determination, conveying her PTSD realistically along with the terrible challenges of rekindling a broken life while navigating the tender beats of a first love. The impact of their relationship and experiences is revealed in layers, unfolding through backstory and quiet revelations like slow, lapping waves, until it finally bursts open with emotional clarity in an astonishing, heartrending denouement.

Lighting designer Matt Cox sculpts shadow and form to intensify the atmosphere, while beautiful silhouettes during scene changes and the simple use of a wide window outlining the sky trace the stages and changing mood of the story. This culminates in a chilling, unforgettable moment when Mitsue and Takezo recall the instant the bomb struck, drawing gasps from the audience. Composer Me-Lee Hay’s evocative music amplifies the swings between tenderness and intensity, drawing the audience into both the intimacy of a family drama and the stark, searing devastation of the community.

Stories like this are important because, like Mitsue’s carefully curated collection of generational folktales, they preserve memory and help us confront trauma, generational grief, and the silent suffering caused by war. Commemoration and contemplation can serve as both a lifeline and a path toward healing.

The Face of Jizo is deeply complex, but it tells this story simply and powerfully, using quiet revelations, vivid imagery, and intimate moments. Starkly sad and at times astoundingly beautiful in its honesty, it is a lesson in human resilience. Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is simply keep going.

The Face of Jizo enjoyed a sold-out Australian premiere at the Old Fitz Theatre, and is now showing at the Seymour Centre. Selected performances will also be presented in Japanese with English subtitles on certain nights.

For details see: https://www.seymourcentre.com/event/the-face-of-jizo/

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