In German Theaters, Classic Movies Become Plays – The New York Times

Supported by

In German Theaters, Classic Movies Become Plays

Image
David Bösch’s “Die Verdammten” at the Berliner Ensemble, based on Luchino Visconti’s 1969 film, “The Damned.”CreditCreditMatthias Horn/Berliner Ensemble

By A.J. Goldmann

BERLIN — In Germany, one of the first countries to acknowledge film’s aesthetic potential, cinema has had an enormous impact on art and culture. When it comes to theater, this influence has been especially profound.

One of the prevailing approaches to drama here, a staging philosophy known as Regietheater, or director’s theater, has been heavily influenced by the auteur theory of cinema and gives directors the artistic license to make their productions every bit as individual and distinctive as a film by Stanley Kubrick or David Lynch.

It’s little surprise, then, that German stage directors are increasingly turning to movies for inspiration.

David Bösch’s “Die Verdammten” at the Berliner Ensemble, based on Luchino Visconti’s controversial 1969 film, “The Damned,” is one of several new plays in Germany this season that take their cue from European film classics from the 1960s and ’70s. It is also one of the best. At the start of Mr. Bösch’s severe and menacing production, the swooning strains of the sleepwalking scene from Verdi’s “Macbeth” signal the director’s intention to respect, if not to channel, Visconti’s operatic sensibility. On another level, it sets the stage for a retelling of Shakespeare’s play as a lurid melodrama about a German industrialist family during the early years of the Third Reich.

Image
The ever-changing configurations of family members, company employees and Nazi officers in “Die Verdammten” reflect the group’s shifting power dynamics.CreditMatthias Horn/Berliner Ensemble

In the wake of Hitler’s rise to power, the von Essenbecks, a family with a steel concern in the Ruhr Valley, must negotiate the relationship of the firm to the ruthless new regime. Greed and desperation drive the family members to acts of opportunism, cowardice, moral compromise and cruelty, as the Nazis work swiftly to consolidate their power and control.

Working with the set designer Patrick Bannwart and with Ulrich Eh, who did the lighting, Mr. Bösch has created a focused and absorbing theatrical experience. A long banquet table that symbolizes the staid domesticity of the von Essenbeck clan stands on the otherwise bare stage. Family members, company employees and Nazi officers arrange themselves around it in ever-changing configurations that reflect the group’s shifting power dynamics.

The characters are starkly lit from above, and Mr. Bösch saves effects like fog and a gentle snowfall for moments of maximum dramatic impact. He has also pared down Visconti’s screenplay to a brisk, intermissionless 90 minutes: It feels both operatic and emotionally intimate.

Much of the production’s success boils down to the fine-grained performances, which are, on the whole, less shrill than those in Visconti’s film, which can have the feel of a grim Nazi soap opera.

The star of the evening is the Berliner Ensemble’s astounding new ensemble addition Nico Holonics, who was lured from Schauspiel Frankfurt by the theater’s new artistic director, Oliver Reese. Mr. Holonics, a young Leipzig-born actor from Leipzig, gives a savage, volatile performance as Martin, the amoral, borderline-psychotic scion of the von Essenbeck clan, whose bloody ascent to the top also involves pedophilia and incest.

Image

Karin Lithman, left, and Corinna Harfouch in Ingmar Bergman’s “Persona,” directed by Anna Bergman at Deutsches Theater in Berlin.CreditArno Declair

Visconti’s opulent films do not exactly cry out for translation to the stage; Ingmar Bergman, whose existential cinema relies heavily on lengthy monologues, seems a far likelier candidate for adaptation. The Swedish master’s centennial year, which is now drawing to a close, has seen a slew of plays based on his vast screen output, both in his native Sweden and throughout Europe.

Bergman, who died in 2007, was also a prolific director for the theater, and many of his films show a debt to Chekhov, Strindberg and Ibsen. Given this, it seems counterintuitive and audacious that his daughter Anna Bergman has chosen to adapt for the stage one of his most experimental and purely cinematic works, “Persona” (1966).

A coproduction of the Deutsches Theater Berlin and the Malmö City Theater in Sweden (which Bergman himself ran between 1953 and 1960), Ms. Bergman’s “Persona” uses a dazzling set, an onstage deluge, ample video and good old-fashioned monologues to breathe fresh life into this intense, enigmatic study of psychological disintegration and transference.

Karin Lithman and Corinna Harfouch slip into the characters memorably portrayed by Liv Ullmann and Bibi Andersson in the film: an actress who mysteriously stops speaking in the middle of a performance and the nurse who takes care of her at a cottage on a secluded island. Ms. Harfouch, who does virtually all the talking, renders Nurse Alma’s changing, often conflicted emotions compelling and believable. Ms. Lithman is no less impressive in her silent role, as she reacts to her caregiver with, progressively, indifference, hostility and affection. (Midway through the run, the actresses will switch roles.)

A mirrored band shell (sets: Joe Schramm) is a clever and versatile setting: The warped reflections echo the surreal, off-kilter aspects of the film. But one of the production’s few missteps is Sebastian Pircher’s video. While the live close-ups of the actresses (camera: Robert Hanisch) add another level of intimacy, an elaborately nightmarish dream sequence threatens to overwhelm the actors’ stellar work by giving a visual representation of the psychological breakdown that has already been beautifully suggested through word and gesture.

Image

Aurel Manthei in “Der Mieter,” directed by Blanka Radoczy, at the Residenztheater in Munich.CreditArmin Smailovic

An even purer reduction of cinematic source material is to be found at the Munich Residenztheater’s new production of “Der Mieter,” adapted from the Roland Topor novel that Roman Polanski filmed in 1976 as a psychological horror film, “The Tenant.” Like “Persona,” it is a study of emotional unraveling.

A young man (played in the film by Mr. Polanski and onstage by Aurel Manthei) moves into an apartment freshly vacated by a woman who jumped from the window and fell through a glass ceiling into the building’s courtyard. The new tenant soon suspects some sort of cabal against him orchestrated by his landlord and neighbors. Or perhaps he simply has a persecution complex.

Unfortunately, Blanka Radoczy, “Der Mieter’s” young director, is unable to conjure the outré atmosphere of either Polanski’s movie or Topor’s novel. Ms. Radoczy trained as a stage designer, and her minimal set, in the black box of the Residenztheater’s smaller venue, the Marstall, gracefully suggests the layout of the apartment building, with its ominous glass ceiling represented by a large oblong tarpaulin. It is a brisk hourlong performance that relies on the cohesion of its five-person cast.

Alas, without any sustained tension, the actors’ behavior seems more odd than sinister. Where Mr. Polanski achieved a clammy sense of dread through a hammy mix of horror and humor, Ms. Radoczy never creates a convincing theatrical world for this unsettling and perverse story.

Films are all around us; the desire to give them a theatrical makeover is understandable. But while fidelity to a filmmaker is certainly not required, the best translations from screen to stage find clever and unexpected ways to reproduce cinematic expression as living theater.

Related Coverage

German Plays Tackle the World’s Woes, Current and Future

Image

A Marathon of New Plays Gives an Epic Start to Munich’s Theater Season

Image

They Write Darn Good Plays. They Direct Them, Too.

Image

Advertisement

Let’s block ads! (Why?)