A POIGNANT, IF UNEVEN, LOCKDOWN DRAMA

By Emma Carney | Bunny Pudding · Digital Coven · @bunnyscopes ⭐⭐⭐⭐ | Press Invite

I knew that Jab was going to be an ‘interesting’ theatrical experience as well, so was the experience of Lockdown. We all have a tale to tell about those few years and to be honest, most of us have a lot of unresolved trauma around the period. Therefore, it’s key to note that I went in expecting to be somewhat ‘Triggered’ and that those going to see the play should make sure to review the trigger warnings of the play. 

James McDermott’s Jab, directed by Scott Le Crass, is a raw and resonant exploration of a marriage buckling under the weight of lockdown tensions. Set against the backdrop of the COVID-19 pandemic, the play delves into the domestic issues exacerbated by confinement, financial strain, and ideological divides—particularly around vaccination. While the script occasionally loses momentum, the powerhouse performances, especially Kacey Ainsworth’s stunning portrayal of NHS worker Anne, make this a compelling, emotionally charged production.

The play follows Anne and Don (Liam Tobin), a long-married couple whose relationship is tested as the pandemic upends their routines. Anne, the pragmatic breadwinner, juggles her NHS duties and menopause, while Don—an arguably ‘lovable’ but frustratingly idle vintage-shop owner—retreats into scepticism and Daily Mail-fuelled anti-vax rhetoric. McDermott’s dialogue crackles with authenticity, capturing both the petty squabbles and profound resentments of two people trapped together. Early scenes are darkly humorous, with Anne struggling through Zoom calls while Don lounges, oblivious – Or is he oblivious? As lockdown drags on, their clashes grow sharper, exposing deeper fractures…and for those a little educated in the subject, the emotional abuse becomes more apparent. 

Ainsworth is extraordinary, balancing Anne’s wit, exhaustion, and quiet despair with heart-breaking nuance. Her performance peaks in the second half, as Anne’s fear (of COVID, of Don’s growing hostility, of her own vanishing agency) becomes palpable. Tobin, too, excels as the affable but selfish Don, whose refusal to engage with reality turns increasingly toxic. Their chemistry—warm one moment, venomous the next—anchors the play, making their unravelling all the more tragic. 

Where Jab stumbles is in its pacing. The repetitive structure—short scenes punctuated by grim death tolls—effectively mirrors the monotony of lockdown but occasionally saps dramatic tension. A late-stage shift to Anne’s solo phone conversations, while a bold choice, drains energy from the finale. And while Don’s anti-vax stance is convincingly portrayed, the script leans heavily on traditional media as his sole influence, sidestepping the broader digital radicalisation that fuelled much real-life discord. 

Yet these flaws don’t overshadow the play’s strengths. Le Crass’s direction ensures the claustrophobic intimacy of the couple’s home feels visceral, and McDermott’s writing shines when tackling the gendered labour divide—a theme that resonates painfully post-lockdown. The play’s greatest achievement is its unflinching honesty: it doesn’t offer easy resolutions, just the messy, aching reality of a crisis that reshaped lives and relationships.

Jab isn’t always an easy watch—especially for those still processing the pandemic’s scars—but it’s a vital one. Ainsworth’s performance alone is worth the ticket, and the play’s ability to trigger complex emotions (nostalgia, rage, grief) speaks to its power. If it drags slightly before the finish, it’s only because lockdown itself did. A stirring reminder of how ordinary people weathered an extraordinary time.

Jab is running at Park Theatre until Saturday 26 April.

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⭐⭐⭐⭐ Catch it before the curtain falls — this one lingers long after the lights come up.

Photo Credit: Steve Gregson