I was surprised that in one of the early performances, an audience member placed the greatest betrayal not on Simon for keeping the woman he loves unaware of his criminal past, but on Jessica for attempting to open Simon’s private suitcase—a bag that may contain some clues to his increasingly difficult behaviour. Jessica is on a mission to almost force her husband to be more ‘open’ despite his protestations. Her gut tells her that something is deeply wrong and she is prepared to go against his wishes to prove herself right. This small transgression, for some, was seen as more deceitful than Simon’s far more complex lie. Indeed, many felt that Simon was the most transparent or honest of all the characters in the play.

Lies and betrayal extend throughout the fabric of Miller’s other characters: Camille, Simon’s co-worker, is trapped in an unsatisfactory marriage but rather than face the prospect of divorce she takes a lover, betraying her husband and child, and creating an ever-increasing web of lies.

Of course, Jessica experiences the greatest betrayal when she finally learns her husband’s truth. And this was another reason I wanted to do the play. When we reach the final scenes where, inevitably, we must hear the full details of Simon’s crime, Miller’s language becomes more disconnected, tangential, visceral and poetic. Most audiences felt the dilemma in the gut, as Jessica does, defying a logical, analytical response. The play reaches a kind of emotion-filled horror where the language helps us empathise with Jessica’s desire to physically hurt Simon and to embrace him at the same time. I was equally confronted by these sections when I first read them and felt that the complex issues that Miller’s language raised were good reason to produce the work.

Lachlan, Camille’s husband, takes swift retribution ending his marriage with Camille and taking their child with him. Simon’s ultimate retribution is somewhat left in the air. We know the retribution he has suffered as part of his sentence but his exact punishment from Jessica and from the wider community remains uncertain—though we know that it could mean a return to prison. Once again Miller turns the ultimate question on us, the audience, asking if, perhaps, this man has suffered enough—questions again.

Producing and directing Transparency was enormously satisfying because it is a play that provokes discussion—audiences were captivated and sometimes appalled, but wanted to talk about it afterwards. Points of view varied wildly. Some were adamant that Jessica had no choice but to leave him, endorsing what Andy, Simon’s pragmatic counselor, states early in the play as a major threat: if you tell her, she’ll leave. Others, like me, liked to believe that it was possible that their love was strong enough to somehow steer a course through the betrayal. After all, all Simon has done is tell the truth and it cannot get any worse.