PART THREE

Now travelling solo, I left Brussels and headed across the border to Germany. First stop, Frankfurt.

Just down the street from the hostel I found The Frankfurt English Theatre, a semi-swanky joint which only produces shows in English, in fact operates entirely in English (even the toilet signs are in English!). Unfortunately the show, Streetcar Named Desire, was not recognisable in English, or even in German, but instead a weird hybrid of English-German-deep-South accent that only the actors could understand and wouldn't have been out of place in a Python sketch. It was either this accent, or the fact that the actor playing Stanley repeatedly ripped off his shirt and grunted like a mating panda, that kept the audience giggling throughout the show. Either way I left my first ever production of Streetcar under the impression that its about ridiculous Americans, which I'm sure was not quite the point..

After a day walking around Frankfurt, including a flying visit to Goethe's house and a quick photo of the desk where he may/may not have written Faust, I headed to my next venue. The Bockenheimer Depot is a refurbished train shed that sits just outside the city centre in the student district. I seemed to be the only student about as I made my way into the giant building for the opening night of Schauspiel's Cabaret. Inside you can really sense the enormity of the space as you queue up for the theatre temporarily housed within (similar to Manchester's Royal Exchange). As I entered I was disappointed to find that the ceiling had been lowered using curtains to hide the tech rigging. It seemed bizarre to me to build a black box inside such a beautiful building concealing its inherent character.

The show was no less bizarre, with dialogue translated into German and songs left in English, the actors switched between the two almost in the same breath. Apart from some pretty dodgy singing, it was a bold production from a company who clearly specialise in drama more than musical theatre (the rest of their season includes a lot of Ibsen and Chekhov). The design was minimal but striking and the director had avoided glamorising the Cabaret world, so that when a dishevelled Sally delivered the title song in the closing scene it was truly gutwrenching. I got the impression (somewhat from the crowd), that it was a reasonably avant-garde production, an idea confirmed when the band came on stage for the curtain call wearing matching space-age pyjamas

On to Munich where my first night was spent at the Staatstheatre in one of the city’s many impressive squares. The marble white building felt uncomfortably exclusive. Champagne bars and glass doors lined the corridors and a rather snooty team of ushers reluctantly showed me to my seat. As I was buying my program a small dog, having broken free from the office, ran across the marble floors, skidding to freedom with a look of enormous glee on its face. The usher, snatched the program out of my hand and dived for the dog, followed by a team of six waistcoated colleagues. A chase ensued and by the time the dog had been cornered it was time to go into the auditorium.

The night's performance was Romeo and Juliet in a translation by Thomas Brasch. Again the height of the space had been lowered to give a stylistic rectangular shape to the stage. Unfortunately this meant that anyone on the second or third balconies like myself, could not see any action taking place upstage.

The production lacked pace and felt unbearably long, I'm sure scenes had been added to the original and having spoken to a German family in the interval I learnt that the dialect was somewhat dodgy too. One lady remarked that Shakespeare would have never written some of the text!

The main issue with the production was its relentlessly bare design. When the cut off ceiling finally receded in Act Two it revealed a stage of grey stone slabs and metallic grates. Shakespeare on a blank canvas is all very well, but the acting lacked the pace to keep the audience engaged. On leaving, the lady I had been chatting to in the seat next to me commented that while Romeo and Juliet had died, the audience were thankfully still alive...just.

Second night in Munich I headed round the corner from the Staatstheatre to the Kammerspiel for Troilus and Cressida. A much more relaxed environment from the previous night, the Kammerspiel is brightly decorated, looking more like an eccentric Spanish villa than an inner-city theatre. The theatre produces a season of their own work, led by a resident artistic director, alongside a wide variety of touring shows (GobSquad and Forced Entertainment are two UK-based companies I recognised in the program).

As the curtain rose we were faced by a large, dark, smoke-filled space, possibly the cellar of an abandoned theatre, maybe the remnants of a crumbling office block. Drips from a leaky roof fell with satisfying sound into fifty or so metal basins and bowls positioned across the stage . The cast, with the exception of the two protagonists, were a group of aging men wearing equally aging suits, loosened ties, and in some case, no shoes.

What followed was an incredibly simple and indefinably beautiful re-telling of the story. The script was abandoned and instead the cast took it in turns to tell the tale directly to the audience: characters were adopted and dropped in a moment; lines were forgotten or repeated, and there were disagreements over the plot.

It really is impossible to describe what made this production so touching. My notes became an illegible scrawl as I was increasingly drawn in by the show. There was always something happening on stage: Troilus and Cressida's first embrace under the jumper Cressida pulls over their heads; two elderly gents playing football in the rain with a deflated ball; all accompanied by the mellow wails of one member of the cast, strumming on a ukulele.

A longer than expected six and a half hour train journey from Munich brought me to the beautiful city of Prague. My first night at the ancient Estates Theatre (where they filmed Amadeus), started with a rather pleasant surprise as I was shown to my box! Never mind that it was one of over forty private boxes and had about fifty percent visibility of the stage, it was a box!

The show, The Government Inspector by Gogol, was very funny (in Czech). Fortunately there was a great deal of physical comedy to keep me amused. The show's forte was also its weakness as a full cast of physically trained comedians made for a very busy stage. The doctor, who clearly felt his part not to be big enough for his talent, spent most of his time on stage clowning around, getting his leg trapped in doors and dropping things. Very funny, but it did draw focus from the dialogue going on around him.

The second night at the Estates Theatre and the last show of the week was Richard III, this time in a more sensible seat in the stalls. If the purpose of this trip is to fill my theatrical swagbag with inventive concepts and clever stagecraft, it is now full. The show quite unashamedly and incredibly skillfully employed every trick in the book.. Every element of the show hung perfectly together and nothing seemed superfluous or contrived (even down to the choir of angels at the end of the show!). The set, which was simple, revealed its nooks and crannies as the show unfolded, including the Tower of London's prison underneath the floor of the stage. The costume was elaborate and bizarre. Richard's two hitmen changed into workmens’ overalls to do their horrible deeds, and when they were sent to kill the two young princes they dressed as clowns. St George's Cross was used repeatedly and ironically, the best moment when Buckingham handed out flags to the front row of the audience to wave as Richard entered. The pacy music drove the show forwards, never allowing the energy to lull. The icing on the cake was the final battle scene. A choir of angels and a chorus of drummers scored the battle between Richmond and Richard. It was witty and clever without losing a drop of integrity. Brill!

Its been a great week with even more to come.. . including Faust in Vienna and Amadeus in Bratislava.

Thanks for reading my ramblings so far.