Suzie Miller’s legal drama Inter Alia is a scathing, urgent piece on feminism, patriarchy, and the ever-looming threat of our moral failures.
It is seldom that a lawyer turns dramatist, but thank goodness Suzie Miller did. Her 2019 play, Prima Facie, first made waves in her native Australia, then brought on a tsunami after Jodie Comer joined its West End and Broadway productions in 2022 and 2023. Comer won both an Olivier Award and a Tony for this one-woman show about an accomplished defense lawyer specializing in exonerating vile men, whose world turns upside down after being raped. It was her first stage appearance.
Miller is known for works considering female destiny in an unjust society, among them a feminist retelling of Medea (2017) and a reimagining of Anna Karenina, Anna K (2022). Now it is Inter Alia, her newest play and a companion piece of sorts to Prima Facie, that speaks urgently to the patriarchal, neoliberal society as we know it today. Helmed by the Prima Facie director Justin F. Martin with an initial run at London’s National Theatre from 10 July to 13 September, Inter Alia stars a spellbinding Rosamund Pike as Jessica Parks, a quintessential “girl boss”.
Jessica is a Crown Court judge, a conscientious feminist, a progressive social presence, a loyal friend, a loving wife, and a dedicated mother… among other things. Inter Alia, i.e., “among other things” in Latin, draws its title from this overabundance of roles a present-day woman is expected to take on and plunges us into the relentless, bone-crushing grind that is Jessica’s life.
While Prima Facie was concerned with how the legal system lets down victims, shown from the vantage point of a female lawyer, Inter Alia gives us the reverse: a story of how individuals’ behavior can influence systemic outcomes. This story is seen through the eyes of a female judge for whom the line between the personal and professional blurs in the most horrific way.
Inter Alia starts with a literal bang of the drums and guitar riffs, and a spotlight on Jessica emerging from the trap room in full judicial attire, screaming FUCK THE PATRIARCHY! into a microphone. She instantly launches into a tirade about her life as such, tirelessly swiveling between her duties as a troubleshooter for the society, her friends, family, and colleagues, and her own perception of self and the world.
As Jessica jumps, runs, twirls, and screams, at times spitting out dozens of words in a single breath, we are made privy to her daily routine, which consists of non-stop emotional and physical heavy lifting for everyone around her. Her day in court is interrupted by her teenage son, Harry (an appropriately pathetic Justin Talbot), urgently calling to inquire about a lost t-shirt. Her husband, Michael (a slightly haughty Jamie Glover), helps organize a dinner party for 16 by helpfully ordering cheese.
Soon, it is absolutely clear that Jessica’s incessant multitasking isn’t supposed to be perceived as a superpower, but an indictment of the system that presents this relentless grind of women, especially career women, as desirable. The merchandise highlight, a mug reading “GIRL BOSS” in quotation marks, is a prime example of Inter Alia’s message.
The prestissimo pulsating tempo grips the audience by the jugular and doesn’t let up until Inter Alia‘s very end. Martin’s typically dynamic direction is on full display here, with Talbot and Glover taking up instruments to ratchet up the tension.
Miriam Buether’s elaborate moving scenographies of home, office, and outdoors seamlessly fade in and out, just like Jessica slips between roles in the blink of an eye, sometimes mid-sentence, changing robes, facial expressions, and the tone of her voice. Her living regimen is ever-moving, noisy, and disorienting, and the creative team ensures we feel it physically, not just emotionally.
Feral, Instinctive, and Fearless
As purposefully incisive as Miller’s text is, it is Pike who brings Inter Alia fully to life with a performance for the ages. In line with the monodrama qualities of Prima Facie, in which Comer embodied all characters and conversations herself, Inter Alia is fully Jessica’s account, and Pike makes every raging moment soar. Over the 105-minute run, she speaks almost non-stop, switching between Jessica’s inner thoughts, her spoken words and external actions, and frequently breaking the fourth wall.
Pike is feral and perfect in a hugely demanding role; wholly in sync with every layer of creative direction, she puts her wide range of skills to use. Her Jessica is fierce but vulnerable, smooth but anxious, at once powerful and relatable, articulate and unhinged, calculated and instinctual. The physicality of Pike’s role as Jessica, like the moments in which she belts Tina Turner’s “Simply the Best” (she has a mezzo voice to die for and she knows it), is outshone only by her commanding line delivery and impeccable comedic timing.
Suzie Miller is no novice to writing, so there are plenty of comical moments to lift the mood, though the story of Inter Alia is anything but uplifting. Not much happens plot-wise in the beginning, but the pace is gripping from the get-go, as Jessica narrates her entire existence through mostly anachronistic vignettes.
We are quick to learn that her career is all about “soft skills”, which Jessica deploys in the courtroom to flatten the bulging egos of male counsels and assert herself. Her private life is all about remaining available for work while maintaining one’s parental and household duties, and her personality is all about being modest, casual, and apologetic, should a man need it. Michael, himself a counsel whom Jessica beat to the bench, seems to need it plenty, and so does Harry, who reacts best to “gentle parenting”.
Beneath this veneer of girlbossing, Jessica is a kind soul, smart and funny, but with little time to focus on herself or enjoy things as she lives her life inter alia. She remembers losing toddler Harry on the playground while on a work call and giving a prepubescent Harry a (hilarious) “porn talk” when his big secret was playing Call of Duty. She also tells us how Michael brushed off her promotion by agreeing with her meek proposition that it had been about affirmative action hiring. She speaks about how Michael quietly slipped out of the role of his son’s caretaker.
All these anecdotes reveal the flipside of being a (working) woman and a mother in a still patriarchal society where expectations are extensive and appreciation nonexistent. In this rigged game that sets women up to fail, Jessica earns our sympathies by trying to make the world a better place. An outspoken feminist, she helps female victims of male aggression, leads by example in and out of the courtroom, and does her best to raise a kind and respectful son.
Inter Alia‘s Macabre Morality Tale
Of course, this is where things start to get complicated. As the audience warms up to Jessica’s ambition of grabbing life by the balls and giving back to society, it is gradually revealed that her “actual” life is in disarray. Harry, a sensitive and ostensibly overprotected teenager, is bullied at school and grows increasingly distant from his parents. Michael enjoys his marriage and fatherhood, but doesn’t seem to be as invested in them as in other matters. Despite Jessica’s best efforts, her family is far from a “Hallmark card” ideal.
Midway, a tectonic thematic shift hits, and Miller’s true intentions are revealed as Inter Alia morphs into a macabre morality tale. It would be impossible to discuss the themes of the play otherwise, so spoilers ahead.
Harry, a quiet, withdrawn boy, is accused of rape, and Jessica’s world is shaken to the core. What follows is a chilling search for the truth, but not necessarily justice. In contrast to Prima Facie, where a victim expounded on her abysmal destiny in the hands of an unjust system, now we see what a judge, representing the system itself, will (or will not) do to influence outcomes and protect her son in the process.
Miller, who interviewed a dozen women judges in preparation for writing, brings expert understanding to the complex narrative and juggles the moral ambiguity of Jessica’s, Michael’s, and even Harry’s position with incredible aplomb. It would be a crime to spoil Inter Alia‘s ending; suffice to say that everything crumbles in a whirlwind of emotions that will reveal the true moral positions of the characters. Jessica, in particular, will face the possibility that all her tenacity was for naught, that she failed as a mother and a human being.
Partly in the tradition of Miller’s namesake Arthur, partly Ibsenian, and partly a beast of its own, Inter Alia evolves and gets better as it progresses, culminating in a near-tragic insight into Jessica’s spiralling mind. The story works best when Miller pushes the pillars of ethics and morality to their inevitable limit. She makes it devilishly difficult to make up one’s mind on whether they support or condemn the characters; in the context of a legal drama, this is a compliment of the first order.
However, not everything about Inter Alia comes together so neatly. Given the attempts at juggling a number of highly intricate themes, some elements of the drama rip at the seams and leave much to be desired. Miller’s legal background is both a strength and a weakness, as some of the anecdotes slide into didacticism. A considerable portion of Jessica’s soliloquizing falls prey to hamfisted exposition on patriarchal phenomena most viewers could identify within a single line, or even feel affectively.
Indeed, there are instances in which the narration feels like a reading of a public reading of an op-ed more than a dramatic speech. This method stalls the plot in the process, though Pike’s performance smoothens most of the wrinkles in the writing.
The overstuffing of themes is a bigger issue, especially given how multifaceted they are. Inter Alia is at once a play about motherhood, patriarchy, marriage, the legal system, work ethics, quotidian morality, and even class, and not everything meshes coherently or has room to breathe. Jessica’s job is essential to the story, but her position as a woman and even a mother is far from the universal picture Miller tries to paint. The lowest-paid judges in the UK earn north of $150k, while the highest-paid judges earn well over $400k. It is difficult to imagine Jessica, clearly an upper-class woman, suffering over “having to” cook a dinner, do the dishes, or generally spend time on chores, as most people of her class don’t, regardless of gender.
Moreover, the off-hand comments about Michael being aloof for ordering cheese for a dinner party make no sense in 2025, when most people who can afford to do the same. The relentless grind most (working) women with a family are subjected to against their wishes doesn’t really apply to Jessica, who can easily afford to outsource any obligation at all, and who could do so even if she had stayed a “mere” lawyer, like her husband. In this sense, the stakes for her are simply not comparable to how most women are forced to live their lives.
A Privileged, Self-Erasing Motherhood
While Miller takes a deep dive into various aspects of motherhood, it is unclear whether she invites ambiguity in Jessica’s case or if certain plot points are an oversight. Jessica losing toddler Harry is clearly meant to be catastrophic, but it is also ludicrous for a parent of any gender to be on the phone, oblivious, while their small child roams unattended.
There is also the question of Jessica sheltering Harry from the outside world, while Michael takes a more hands-off approach. We are supposed to side with Jessica, overwhelmed and committed, but it is highly debatable whether she is in the right. Try as she might, Jessica does not necessarily come across as a “great” mother, but since we are meant to be on her side, the interplay between her identities brings about some contradictions.
Nevertheless, Suzie Miller’s messages and the questions she raises are relevant through and through, so the above can mostly be excused, at least in my view. Some might take issue with the sentimentality of the final scene, in which children run through a dark forest as Jessica remembers Harry when he was little, but the fact is that most of us left the theater soaked in tears.
Despite possible criticisms, Inter Alia will be remembered for its visceral, emotionally raw portrayal of contemporary womanhood and the challenges of being a mother. Its honest exploration of morality and the legal system will undoubtedly find a place in the contemporary dramatic canon, side by side with Prima Facie, as Miller intended. Most of all, Inter Alia will stay with you because of its heroine’s fearless, epic performance. All rise for Rosamund Pike.
Following the run at Lyttelton theatre from 10 July to 13 September and live broadcast in the UK, Inter Alia will be released to cinemas worldwide from 25 September 2025. Audiences can find their nearest screening at interalia.ntlive.com