A light bulb weighs 28 grams, as does a mouse and a pack of paper clips. And, of course, an ounce of drugs (most commonly marijuana). Something that weighs so little can pack a hefty punch.

As does the dark comedy 28 Grams, presented by Ella Randle at the intimate Theatre Two at Hayman Theatre at Curtin University. 

When we first meet Grace, she is desperate to leave a party, but her friend Lily doesn’t want to leave it or her boyfriend Jaymes (the spelling is ‘unique’). She runs the gauntlet of the obnoxious drunk party dude who blocks your exit until you answer overly sexual questions in which either answer leads to your public humiliation.

Grace works in a café and dealing with demanding customers is a frustrating daily reality. She is relatable, likeable, smart, funny, a good friend who lacks the ability to say no. Grace also hates herself. She has judged herself by standards placed on her by others and their thoughtless cruelty, such as being “40 and telling your daughter their friend (Grace) is ugly”.

Then 28 Grams changes and becomes a little darker as Grace leads the audience gently through her hatred and journey into recovery. She feels she lacks power but finds a way to feel in control by avoiding food. It is an issue we have heard about consistently over the years. Yet, the way the play is structured, our knowledge, understanding and empathy deepens through Grace’s story. 

A quote by philosopher Marcus Aurelius features on a whiteboard on the stage reads ‘perfection of character is this: to live each day as if it were your last, without frenzy, without apathy, without pretence’. 

It is this quote that Grace leads us back to and suggests that we instead appreciate what each day has given. 28 Grams is about the power we have over others and its impact, being kind and not judging our worth by how much we weigh or look like, or our gender. 28 Grams delivers its message gently and with kindness, but powerfully.