Before the play begins, we are aware of director Simon McBurney’s Complicite style infusing Schaubuhne Berlin’s Beware of Pity, a stage adaptation of Stefan Zweig’s 1939 novel. Shadows chase each other across the stage. A glass museum cabinet holds a uniform. Tables and objects and microphones are arranged around a vortex centre. A grid hangs grimly over the stage, tilted towards us.
Zweig’s notion of how the self-serving nature of some ostensibly fine feeling – such as pity (as opposed to true compassion) – can lead to ruin is eloquently explored using non-naturalistic means to build up a sense of unstoppable disaster. The parallel lines are drawn between the collapse of an individual and the disintegration of an empire though stunning production values. Live video projections are merged with archival footage and pictorial montages which engage us with increasing speed towards crisis. Underneath, a powerful soundscape threads its way into our consciousness.
Laurenz Laufenberg is the upright, naive younger Lieutenant Anton Hofmiller whilst the older, disillusioned Anton (Christoph Gawenda) tells a story of the mess caused by a moral paralysis brought on by pity. They are simultaneous presences throughout and perfectly (if unnervingly) matched. The agony of pity for the crippled Edith (a beautifully unbalanced Marie Burchard) leads Anton into paying her constant attention; and in doing so, becoming indispensable to the unstable invalid. This sets off a catastrophic train of events. Robert Beyer captures Kekesflava’s piteous love authentically whilst Johannes Flaschberger gives us a surprisingly compassionate Dr Condor. Moritz Gottwald plays out a vast array of minor characters with aplomb.
Edith’s instability is communicated by having one actress lip-synch to the voice of another (Eva Meckbach) who also plays Ilona. In some unnerving sections, Edith is represented as just a white dress on a hanger that gets knocked off a table sent speeding by. Sometimes the dress is a puppet, constantly reaching for Anton. The performance is littered with such moments. Edith’s sexual obsession with Anton is played out as the agonised face of the older Hofmiller, alone in the dark, is disgustingly pawed at by more than two hands. The glass cabinet becomes a hurtling railway carriage. Every single moment has been completely and perfectly thought through and explored by cast and director; and much can be learned from this company on how to properly use a light box on stage. They get it right. You are invited into a dream world, where memory alternates between vague visions and crystal-clear incidences.
I have only one caveat. It is in German with English surtitles and it plays out over two hours without interval. The surtitle screens are not large so it is quite demanding of anyone who does not speak German in any way, shape or form. But it is truly worthwhile if you are up for that.
Beware of Pity is an astonishing play with uniformly wonderful performances from the ensemble who are supported by marvellous design and execution. It exemplifies theatre art at its best.
Beware Of Pity closed at Roslyn Packer Theatre on 27th
Kate Stratford – On The Town
