The auteur in repose

Despite what Ben says, theater’s a big crap-heap ravaged by self-obsessed vultures and braying hyenas, with hunger-maddened rats skirting its putrid edges. It’s not dialogue, they’re not compelling, and in the meantime, I’ve never been so bored. I’m actually going through my coat pockets and looking at old movie stubs and receipts rather than watching… this.

But, through therapy, I’m learning to look for the light in live action. Ben has assisted me somewhat by making an incredible first film, Stuart Dee, which showed me phrases like “based on a one-man show” and “Snoo Wilson” needn’t be anathema. They could actually be associated with something good, something that doesn’t involve crying in the fetal position – though it may involve watching it.

And now Ben is back on the stage for his directoral debut, Balkonstrasse 5, which is premiering Saturday, December 2nd at the English Theatre Berlin:

Erica, an intuitive woman, has given up on men and would rather talk to the flowers she grows on her balcony… Nick, a musician, has had enough of easy love and is looking for (and writing a song about) deep, instinctive, intuitive love... Clare knows all about fun and thinks she knows all about love. Also at Balkonstrasse 5. is Lyle, a lonely writer of pulp romances. And there’s Wendy who has found out all about Lyle and is determined to experience with him the wild romance found in his most lurid books… Is love fantastical? Is love a fantasy? Do dreams come true?

This play is going to be jacking all over the place with video, and acting, and actors interacting with video, and vice versa, and red herrings and vomiting, and fellatio (a Brechtian standard), and stranger images. Having seen the sausage made, I can still vouch for this one. Berlinarians should see it. Lots of interesting Anglo-speakers are going to be there, especially someone whose name has a lot in common with yours: me!!!!

It promises to be both accessible and good, which is so much more than you can ask from these things usually. (The beer is also really cheap – another phase of my therapy.) Come on, do you want to snub theater forever?