When have they ever needed a witness for anything? The descent into the dark underbelly of the Frewin Undercroft is all too apt an introduction to 1930s Nazi Germany: a world crystallized in the short scenes chosen for this adaptation in an infernal tightrope walk vacillating between peaks of paranoia and punishment. The team have worked hard on this, and demonstrate clear passion on all fronts. The venue has been chosen specifically, to try and reproduce the atmosphere of fear, oppression and censorship that gave rise to the piece in the first place: Everyone is a suspect. In the final production next week this will be further enhanced by the presence of SA guards, who will act as ushers and interfere with audience members, even interrupting the action of the play.
Written between 1933 and 1938 as a piece of counter-propaganda, this is one of Brecht’s most famous openly anti-Nazi plays. Most inspiring about it for anyone who loves theatre however, is probably its phoenix-like capacity for rebirth, of which the company have taken advantage. Ben Martin has furnished a strong adaptation of the piece, containing all its fear and frustrations. Perhaps even more impressive however is Oliver Murphy’s handling of the translation, of which he has done a fine job, with only A-Level German under his belt.
The cast fall out in a military line chanting in unison and experience a hundred deaths between each scene change in this nightmarish phantasmagoria. Over the course of each vignette, we bear silent witness to the atrocities inflicted by the Nazis on peoples’ everyday lives. For those unfamiliar with Brecht, the piece evokes a paranoia and disruption to the average individual in a manner akin to that experienced in The Lives of Others (2006) – though obviously in a much earlier, Nazi Germany. Fear and Misery tells several stories, depicting scenes from the lives of all corners of society, ranging from scientists, fleeing Jewish spouses, to Communist dissidents. A particularly touching vignette is that of The Spy, in which a family are left completely distraught about their actions being continuously monitored from within their own home. A statement such as Hitler’s Germany is not in my vocabulary, or the simplest assertion about the propaganda contained in the newspapers become life-threatening. Their son, a member of Hitler Youth, could be a potential informant, and a five-minute disappearance to buy sweets reduces them to despair, desperately trying to rewrite their history, lest the next knock on the door be that of the police. Through this scene and others, Adam Scott Taylor and Dugie Young offer especially polished performances, which, between whip cracks, will leave you gasping at the edge of your seat. Taylor displays a mastery of fear and pain, delivering blood-curdling screams that even fellow cast members were unable to watch. Young displays a great versatility, moving from the role of a suspected little Judas effortlessly into that of a tyrannical officer. The performance, at its best is utterly gut-wrenching, you are not coming here for mild entertainment.
