The game is over. This is the fly in the ointment, the remains of all the bottles of glue. You plug in one of the armchairs in upholstery, leaning on railings, a swim and chilled out in Vanity unit or are rolled between the floorboards. And with the alcohol finally dried up the words. Many of the words were quickly spoken, blabbering, sobbing, or specifically set. Two hours of bubbly and sprayed it, foamed it on, in the glasses as in the mouths. And if it was one or the other is empty, refills on the ever-rotating stage of the wild life in roulette castle.
Crowned by a radiant chandelier, stood a gaming table as the center and summit of this life, in the hustle and bustle of the ball and the ruble rolled down. Instead of going to sleep, switched the dresses, so the time passed. Who took care of it, that the iron was under the bleachers rusty, the wood under your feet is uneven, the plush under the hands full of holes, the leather under the seat cracked and the balcony railings, leaning, brittle? If, however, the green felt so flawless, time – and-prejudice-so perfectly attracted.
But then came the break and changed everything. Since then, Mr. instead of Pomp, Party and champagne stood still, bleakness and dreariness. The ice cubes are melted, the suitcases Packed, and the light is as pale as the champagne, the pearls. On stage, however, is not passed, no time – the Illusion is dissipated. As if to prove the last replica is spoken once again and has now heart is torn: “So you don’t want to.” – “So I can’t!” And after a good half hour of the game is from.
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The glittering center of life is extinguished; there is no way back into the Illusion. This is the fly in the ointment that stays in the Munich Residenz theater in Fyodor M. Dostoyevsky’s novel “The players” stick. Who else wants to know how the game could continue, must be continue reading in Dostoyevsky’s letters, his life. Because clearly, as the in a single panting breath is unshakably linked to driving history already with the dramatic circumstances of their extorted emergence in only 26 days, and the tragic life of his game addictive highly indebted author, read Andreas Kriegenburg for his production. What he had missed before, asks Dostoyevsky’s narrator and alter Ego of Alexei Ivanovich, as he comes to roulette castle and the novel begins. The Director replies: “Nothing.”
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know As the Declaration of war, the castle marks a stage in the strip as an additional narrative level, and invents a kind of prologue: On the ramp are six microphones, and from the beginning of the performance, surprised, shirring parts of the six actors Lilith Häßle, Thomas Loibl, Hanna Scheibe, Philip Dechamps, Thomas Gräßle and Arnulf Schumacher quickly your Costume and warm up for a few minutes with a rhythmic word-play: “money is good. Money is Have. Belongings. Balance … game for your life … Oh, it starts!“ What begins now is a feverish, brilliant, dizzyingly fast-paced, tragicomic rousing theater-to-noise of precision, Timing and richness of detail.
Alexander nitzberg’s new translation from the year 2016 is playing at war castle in the cards. And the Director, his Ensemble put their maximum effort on a field: such As roulette balls, the characters clang through the unquenchable greed, fast money and unrequited love given a power play in Dostoyevsky’s story, which is, of course, a today’s. Rattle the actors over the seven arms, which is the airy casino is the center extends to the fantastic stage by Harald B. Thor octopus the same As Board webs with a slight slope, the rooms have similar furniture groups in the last gloss of 1866.
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the space under The huge skeleton of melts is used as a dressing room. Sometimes one returns from there to the microphone, for Alexei the narrative role. Or you to claim: Relentlessly full Charlotte Schwab moves into the role of glamorous Russian grandmother, the heritage of all of the speculate, the Ruin at the gaming table as a physical decay. Also Alexei, the device as a home teacher in the service of the Bank Russian General between the swash rotten European gambling knight, enjoys it for only so long, about all the capitalists – the virtue, the Germans, the extravagant Frenchman, the cunning of Poland, the stiff Englishman – to raise, to him the loss of Self.
