
Based on published first-person testimonies, writer-performer Kim structures Face as a memory play, told years after the fact by a survivor now in her eighties, but still haunted by the wartime atrocities she endured. As a young girl, life was a struggle in occupied Korea. After the death of her father, she drops out of school to help her mother eke out a subsistence living in the fields. Yet, she still yearns for a better life, which makes her susceptible to a cruel Japanese bait-and-switch. She signs-on to work in a Japanese factory by day, lured by the promise of school at night. What follows is a harrowing story of rape, torture, disease, and mental anguish in the euphemistically named “comfort stations.”
Kim is truly heartrending in Face, conveying the shattering death of a young girl’s innocence and the hard-earned resolve of woman in her twilight years. Kim transforms herself into her character at vastly different ages, without the aid of make-up, simply through her uncannily expressive countenance. By their nature, solo performance requires the considerable courage to take the stage alone, without back-up. However, Kim seems particularly exposed on-stage, bringing to life her character’s unspeakable sufferings.
Even though Kim does all the talking (save for her best friend Sunja briefly heard in recorded voice-overs), Face never feels stagey. Jakyung Seo’s dramatic lighting effectively emphasizes the stark, m

Face is a viscerally intense theater experience, featuring an exceptional performance by its writer. It might be sad and infuriating, but Kim also finds a measure of inspiration in her character’s resilience. Highly recommended even to those not ordinarily enamored with one-person shows, Face transcends its format. It runs through May 23rd as part of soloNOVA.