★★★★★
There’s a white chair. A white telephone. Both sit on a plinth, waiting. So is she. Ruth Bader Ginsburg waits for the call that will change everything. The appointment. The moment history tips. The play begins here, in stillness, before unfolding into something vast: a life, a jurisprudence, a belief system under pressure.
RBG: Of Many, One, written by Suzie Miller and directed by Priscilla Jackman, premiered in 2022, during Joe Biden’s presidency. At the time, its message felt urgent but steady. Now, in a world where Donald Trump has returned to the centre of power, the work lands differently. Darker. Sharper. It becomes both balm and warning.
A balm for the ache of endless headlines and truth-twisting noise. A reminder of what institutions once promised. And maybe still can. This is a monodrama. One actor. One hundred minutes. A lifetime. Heather Mitchell carries it all. And “tour de force” barely covers it.
She does more than perform Ruth Bader Ginsburg. She inhabits her across time. With a flick of light, she shifts decades. A change in gait. A tightening of the jaw. The voice lifts, then settles. Teenager. Judge. Widow. Icon. Mitchell cries often. On cue. Again and again. It’s almost the least impressive thing she does. Because she also conjures rooms that aren’t there.
She meets Bill Clinton. She debates with Barack Obama. She parodies Donald Trump with hand gestures so precise the audience erupts. It’s laughter edged with relief. Better to laugh than sit in recognition too long.
The set is deceptively simple. Curtains. Light. Space. Designed by David Fleischer and lit by Alexander Berlage, it transforms constantly. The curtains blaze red and blue. Fireworks. Patriotism. Division. They become pillars of the Supreme Court. Corridors of power. A hospital room. A living room where a phone may or may not ring. At times, the stage feels operatic. Not by accident.
A childhood memory cuts through. Her mother buys her a ticket to Puccini. She waits outside. They can’t afford two seats. That moment shapes everything. Love. Sacrifice. Art. Priscilla Jackman, with her Opera Australia, pedigree, leans into this. Key scenes swell with operatic scores from composer Paul Charlier. Mitchell stands still. A tear falls.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg didn’t just admire the opera. She lived like one. Her marriage to Marty, a modern man who cooked the dinner and raised the kids when doing so was unheard of, makes us swoon and sob like it’s La Boheme.
The script moves like a legal argument. Cases appear as if footnoted in real time in surtitles. She breaks the fourth wall, maybe addressing us as the jury. At one point, she compares her judicial collar to Rundle Mall’s Balls. But the deeper idea is this: dissent.
Her dissenting judgments are framed as letters to the future. You may be one of nine. You may lose. You may be ignored. Still, you write. Because your time might come. That idea sits at the centre of the work. In a climate where it often feels like nothing we say makes a difference, this play insists otherwise. Change is slow. Sometimes generational. Sometimes invisible in the moment.
Ruth Bader Ginsburg was raised with certain truths: Be independent. Hide the rage. Trust institutions. The play asks what happens when those beliefs fracture. There’s a moment of shame. A rare one. When she feels she hasn’t upheld judicial independence. It lingers. If only more public figures carried that weight.
And then, without warning, the legal arguments and humorous asides are interrupted by tragedy. A blackout. Silence. Then she returns in activewear. A yoga mat rolls out. A pink Swiss ball appears. She begins ab crunches. The audience laughs again. It’s necessary. Jackman handles these tonal shifts with remarkable control. The play never fractures. It breathes.
For Australian audiences, there’s a quiet parallel with Michael Kirby. A belief that the law must evolve. That constitutions are not frozen artefacts. That justice requires interpretation, not just preservation.
In the end, RBG cannot outwork mortality. Not even her. She tries. Of course she does. But death comes. What remains are the letters. The dissents. The ideas sent forward in time for us to receive now, just when we need them. Ideas that stand firm. Like the woman who gave them to us.
RBG: Of Many, One is presented by State Theatre Company South Australia and runs to 2 May at Dunstan Playhouse. Adelaide Festival Centre, King William Street Adelaide SA 5000.
Tickets: https://my.statetheatrecompany.com.au/overview/rbg-of-many-one
Website: https://statetheatrecompany.com.au/shows/rbg-of-many-one/
Socials: https://www.instagram.com/statetheatresa/
Hero image photo credit: Prudence Upton
