Jab, Finborough Theatre Review

Kacey Ainsworth and Liam Tobin in Jab. Credit Steve Gregson

Written by Bronagh for Theatre & Tonic

Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review.

This production contains references to COVID, vaccinations, lockdown, death, grief, domestic violence, scenes of a sexual nature and mild language.


We’re fast approaching the fourth anniversary of the first Covid lockdown, a frightening time of not knowing what on earth would happen next. Jab explores Anne and Don’s relationship as the country is plunged into lockdown; after all, it will all be over soon won’t it?

Anne and Don have been together for twenty nine years. They met in a club in Skegness and the rest is history. They know each other like the back of their own hands and love each other’s company. Anne is the breadwinner, working in an NHS role, while Don works in a vintage shop which is his ‘headspace’. This arrangement has seemingly worked… until the lockdown hits, and some home truths start to come to light.

Jab is billed as a dark comedy, and it certainly is dark and comedic in all the right places. The light hearted dancing to the Eurythmics with a glass of wine – kitchen disco anyone? – to the bickering over the remote, it’s quite relatable to some early lockdown memories. As Don stays home for longer, while it’s alluded to that he is drinking more than Anne, things take a nose dive. Allusions to domestic violence and Anne being pressured into sex are shocking moments, almost unbelievable that this was the Don that we previously saw dancing with his wife. Anne questions whether he has always been like this, or if this is something he has just become, which is frostily met by Don. Home is soon enough no longer a place of safety for Anne, until Don is blue lighted to hospital after contracting Covid.

The ending of Jab is just right. I particularly liked Anne choosing to drink gin instead of wine, almost like a finger up to Merlot glugging Don. There is a sense of peace as Anne gets ready to go dancing, gazing out of the window into the dark night. 

The set is very simple; four chairs which are moved around the space, and bottles of wine which top up Anne and Don’s glasses frequently. Jodie Underwood’s lighting varies according to mood, and dimmed lighting – along with Anne and Don stating how many deaths due to Covid have occurred – signals the change of scene. 

Kacey Ainsworth is brilliant as Anne, a middle aged woman seemingly with the patience of a saint. She starts off so vibrant and full of life, drinking wine and dancing around the living room with her husband. Kacey brings so many layers to Anne, ensuring she isn’t one dimensional. Liam Tobin’s Don starts fairly charming, then becomes abusive, ignorant and full of conspiracy theories regarding the Covid vaccine. Tobin pulls this off marvellously, stepping into the role of a very difficult character.

I’m going to end this review by saying I didn’t have a particularly bad experience over the lockdown or during the ‘Covid years’ in general. I stayed well, as did all of my friends and family. I worked from home, I went for my one walk a day then I watched Netflix. Hardly thrilling, but it was okay. Despite this, Jab really evoked emotions in me that I didn’t think I would feel. I am a human so will feel sad, but didn’t expect to actually feel choked up and on the verge of tears at the memories of what thousands of people went through. 

Throughout Jab, part of me started to wonder if it was too soon for productions about Covid. After all, four years isn’t that long and this was the stark reality for so many people. However, we should be keeping peoples’ memory alive as we fight for justice for bereaved families, and I would say that Jab did a great job and evoking those memories and emotions.

At the Finborough Theatre until 16th March 2024.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

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