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RICHARD TOPOL ON ABRAM, SHYLOCK, AND ANTISEMITISM: OUR CLASS / THE MERCHANT OF VENICE

Rich Topol first played Abram Baker in Our Class at BAM this past January (photo by Pavel Antonov)

OUR CLASS / THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Classic Stage Company, Lynn F. Angelson Theater
136 East Thirteenth St. between Third & Fourth Aves.
Our Class: Tuesday – Sunday, September 12 – November 3, $89-$139
The Merchant of Venice: Tuesday – Sunday, November 22 – December 22, $59-$129
www.classicstage.org
www.arlekinplayers.com

Earlier this year, Arlekin Players Theatre and MART Foundation’s timely new adaptation of Polish playwright Tadeusz Słobodzianek’s 2008 drama, Our Class, sold out a three-week run at the BAM Fisher as part of the Under the Radar festival. Inspired by actual events that occurred in the small village of Jedwabne, Poland, the three-hour play, directed by the endlessly inventive Igor Golyak, focuses on antisemitism among a group of ten Polish students, five Jewish, five Catholic, all born in 1919–20, from childhood to young adulthood to old age, although several don’t make it through a horrific 1941 pogrom.

In my January 30 review, I wrote, “The cast and crew, who hail from Russia, Ukraine, Poland, Israel, Germany, and the US, are superb. . . . Perhaps the best thing about Our Class is that it doesn’t preach at the audience; it has a message and a point of view but is not teaching us about good and evil.”

The show, which was nominated for Drama League, Outer Critics Circle, and Drama Desk Awards, is back for a return engagement September 12 – November 3 at Classic Stage, with the same cast and crew. One thing that will be at least somewhat different is the staging, as Classic Stage is smaller and more intimate than the Fisher (199 seats vs. 250), and the audience sits on three sides of the action. Arlekin’s residency continues there November 22 – December 22 with the New York debut of its unique and unusual production of Shakespeare’s The most excellent historie of the Merchant of Venice with the exxtreame cruelitie of Shylocke the Jewe, featuring much of the same team as Our Class, including director Golyak and actors Richard Topol, Gus Birney, José Espinosa, Tess Goldwyn, Stephen Ochsner, and Alexandra Silber.

Topol, who has starred as Jewish characters on and off Broadway in such works as Indecent, The Chosen, Awake & Sing, Prayer for the French Republic, and King of the Jews, plays Abram Baker in Our Class, a student who leaves Poland and becomes a rabbi in America. In The Merchant of Venice, he will play Shylock, the Jewish moneylender previously portrayed by Edmund Kean, Edwin Booth, Jacob Adler, Orson Welles, Al Pacino, Laurence Olivier, John Douglas Thompson, Andrew Scott, and many others.

In my January 8 Substack post “‘class consciousness’: we are not safe. again.,” exploring Our Class and antisemitism in relation to Hamas’s brutal attack on Israel on October 7 and the aftermath, Topol explained, “Certainly the violence that is occurring in both Ukraine and Israel/Gaza is impacting my relationship and understanding of the play. And it’s making Our Class a story that feels even more important to tell. Because it’s based on true events that occurred not far from Ukraine. And because it’s about cycles of hate. And the violence that can come from that hate.”

As the company began rehearsals for the Classic Stage transfer, I asked Topol several questions about the two plays and his characters.

twi-ny: What similarities do you see between Abram and Shylock?

rt: Well, for starters, they are both Jews living through perilous times filled with antisemitism. They are both fathers who love their children deeply. They are both connected to their religion fully. And they both face moments where they struggle with how to respond to people who treat them with indignity.

twi-ny: What are their main differences?

rt: I think their main difference is how they respond to being treated with indignity. Shylock seeks revenge. He can’t see straight once he’s been broken. Abram is treated less harshly but he also is a kinder man who tries to come to terms with the world as it is in a way that allows for forgiveness or redemption or understanding. And I think that is because Abram is a rabbi who feels the blessings of his G-d around him, even as he suffers harm. Shylock is a businessman, a moneylender, and though he is connected to his Jewish faith, he isn’t as grounded in its teachings as Abram is. Abram creates this gigantic family, these generations of descendants whom he loves and cherishes. Shylock feels like he’s alone in the world, with only his one daughter as his ally. And once she’s gone he has nobody he can lean on, live for, or help him see straight.

Also, because of Abram’s inherent kindness, he sees the best in people, the hope for the world, the possibilities for the future. Maybe Shylock had some kindness in him somewhere but we certainly don’t see much if any of it during the course of the play. Maybe it was snuffed out when his wife died. But bottom line there is a hardness in Shylock’s soul as opposed to a kind of softness in Abram’s.

twi-ny: How might Abram have fared as the Venetian moneylender in Merchant, and how might Shylock have done as the rabbi in Our Class?

rt: That’s a great question and a fun thing to try to imagine. Abram seems like a pretty smart guy, so maybe he would have figured out how to make a successful go of it as a Venetian moneylender. He’s good with languages, he’s a hard worker, and he has a kind of can-do attitude that would have stood him in good stead. I like his chances.

Shylock as a rabbi . . . hmm . . . I’m thinking no way. At least not the kind of rabbi I’d like to hear at synagogue! He definitely feels strongly about his tribe, his people, his religion. But I don’t see him as having the right temperament to be a leader to his fellow Jews.

twi-ny: What would they think about the state of the world if they were alive today, with the same jobs?

rt: Shylock as a modern-day moneylender — a banker in this world of global capitalism — he might be just fine. I think most of the Jews of this time live with greater freedoms, respect, and opportunity than during Shylock’s time in Venice. He’d certainly recognize the antisemitism of our time, but if he were a banker in Venice now I think he might be thriving and might feel like a true equal to his Christian counterparts.

Abram, well, he was alive not that long ago. But I think he’d be heartbroken to see the rise of antisemitism in this country. My sense of him is of someone who loved and seized on the promise and opportunity of America, symbolized by the Statue of Liberty. An immigrant who was always thankful for the chance to make a new and full life here. And he would be as disturbed by the hate and divisiveness of our time right now as many of us are.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

OUR CLASS

Our Class recounts a 1941 Polish pogrom and its aftermath (photo by Pavel Antonov)

UNDER THE RADAR: OUR CLASS
BAM Fisher, Fishman Space
321 Ashland Pl.
January 12 – February 11, $68-$139
www.bam.org
ourclassplay.com

“I’m going to have a copy of this play put in the cornerstone and the people a thousand years from now’ll know a few simple facts about us — more than the Treaty of Versailles and the Lindbergh flight. See what I mean?” the stage manager says in Thornton Wilder’s 1938 Pulitzer Prize–winning drama Our Town. “So — people a thousand years from now — this is the way we were in the provinces north of New York at the beginning of the twentieth century. — This is the way we were: in our growing up and in our marrying and in our living and in our dying.”

In Igor Golyak‘s potent new revival of Tadeusz Słobodzianek’s 2008 play, Our Class, at BAM Fisher’s Fishman Space through February 11 as part of the Under the Radar festival, the first and second acts start with the cast sitting in a semicircle, holding and reading from scripts, as if copies of the play have been recently unearthed from a cornerstone, revealing a terrifying story that is not as widely known as it should be, and all too relevant to what is happening in the world today.

Inspired by actual events that occurred in the small village of Jedwabne, Poland, Our Class follows a group of ten Polish students, five Jewish, five Catholic, all born in 1919–20, from childhood to young adulthood to old age, although several don’t make it through a 1941 pogrom.

The audience is shown immediately when each character dies; their birth and death dates are written in chalk on a large, multipurpose blackboard. I preferred not to look too closely, instead learning their fate over the course of the narrative, but Golyak and Słobodzianek clearly want you to know who is going to live and who is going to die in their early twenties, in awful ways.

Richard Topol plays Abram Piekarz, the only Polish Jew who got out in time (photo by Pavel Antonov)

Richard Topol portrays Abram Piekarz, who serves as a kind of stage manager. Topol has played similar roles in such important plays about antisemitism as Indecent and Prayer for the French Republic; here he introduces each scene, which are called “lessons,” shuffling props, directly addressing the audience, blowing harp, appearing all over the theater (including in the aisles and on top of the blackboard), and remaining in touch with his fellow classmates after he moves to America and studies to become a rabbi.

At the start of the show, the characters share their hopes and dreams: Dora (Gus Birney) wants to be a movie star, Rysiek (José Espinosa) a pilot, Zocha (Tess Goldwyn) a seamstress, Zygmunt (Elan Zafir) a soldier, Rachelka (Alexandra Silber) a doctor, Jakub Katz (Stephen Ochsner) a teacher. Very few get to achieve their goals.

The first crack in the friendship between the Jews and the Christians occurs in the wake of the death in 1935 of Marshal Józef Piłsudski, who had encouraged minority cultures in the nation. While Jakub is honoring the marshal’s accomplishments, Heniek (Will Manning) mockingly declares, “The marshal’s a prick with a circumcised dick. / His power he loved to abuse. / He married three times and committed his crimes / And sold all us Poles to the Jews!”

Later, the Christian students hold a prayer service in school, which upsets Menachem (Andrey Burkovskiy), Jakub, and Rachelka, who chastises Władek (Ilia Volok) for throwing rocks at Jakub’s sister.

And then, during a party for the opening of a local cinema — made possible by the Soviet occupation of Poland — Rysiek shouts, “Death to the Commie-Jew Conspiracy. Long live Poland!” He leaves, but when a few of the Christians insist on dancing with Jews, it becomes increasingly uncomfortable.

It’s not long before blood is spilled and people are being brutally murdered.

“Classmates are like family. Better than family,” Zygmunt proclaims.

What happened was no way to treat family.

During the pandemic, Golyak and Massachusetts-based Arlekin Players Theatre broke out of the pack with innovative, interactive livestreamed productions, followed by The Orchard, a hybrid reimagining of The Cherry Orchard with Jessica Hecht and Mikhail Baryshnikov.

Golyak (chekhovOS /an experimental game/, Witness) directs with a frenetic energy that is intoxicating; your eyes are always searching for the unusual, the unexpected. In Our Class, adapted by Norman Allen from a literal translation by Catherine Grovesnor, you won’t find characters just sitting and talking; there is constant motion and action throughout the space. Text is added to the blackboard. Victims are represented by balloons on which the actors draw faces. Two figures watch from overhead. Ladders are dragged across the set, used for multiple purposes. A soccer ball that previously brought the classmates together on their team is turned into a weapon.

Cameras and monitors are pushed onstage, projecting live recordings on the screen and the blackboard, then rolled back to the wings, where actors wait and watch intently when they’re not in the scene. At times there is too much happening all at once, complicated by anachronistic video usage, although it also firmly reminds us that this could happen again, as evidenced by the current rise of antisemitism around the world, particularly following Hamas’s terrorist attack on Israel on October 7.

At three hours (with one intermission), the play is long, but any shorter and its lessons might be lost, and in any case, Golyak never lets it slow down. (Prayer for the French Republic is also three hours but doesn’t feel like it.)

Ten classmates learn more than they ever bargained for in New York premiere of Tadeusz Słobodzianek play (photo by Pavel Antonov)

The cast and crew, who hail from Russia, Ukraine, Poland, Israel, Germany, and the US, are superb. The set is by Jan Pappelbaum of the Schaubühne, with realistic сostumes by Sasha Ageeva, stark lighting by Adam Silverman, original music by Anna Drubich, immersive sound by Ben Williams, choreography by Or Schraiber, and projections by Eric Dunlap.

Topol (King of the Jews, The Normal Heart) is exceptional as Abram, the only one who got out of Poland before the 1941 pogrom; he imbues Abram — who in many ways is a stand-in for America, which entered WWII only when Pearl Harbor was attacked — with a soft, affectionate tenderness. Both Topol and Abram are genuine mensches.

Birney (The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window, The Rose Tattoo) will break your heart over and over again as Dora, Espinosa (Take Me Out, Fuente Ovejuna) will infuriate you as the bigoted Rysiek, Silber (Fiddler on the Roof, Hello Again) will shock and annoy you as Rachelka, Goldwyn, in her off-Broadway debut, will charm you as Zocha, and Volok (Gemini Man, The Gaaga) will utterly confound you as Władek. Burkovskiy (Solar Line, The Flight), Zafir (Arcadia, Everybody), Manning (Breitwisch Farm, Just Tell No One), and Ochsner (The Maxims of Panteley Karmanov, Everything’s Fine) round out the excellent ensemble.

Perhaps the best thing about Our Class is that it doesn’t preach at the audience; it has a message and a point of view but is not teaching us about good and evil.

In Our Town, Emily asks the stage manager, “Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? — every, every minute?”

“No,” the stage manager replies.

And that’s a shame, because no one should have to go through such horrors again.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can find his personal essay on Our Class here.]

NEXT WAVE 2023: CORPS EXTRÊMES

Rachid Ouramdane makes his BAM debut with the high-flying Corps extrêmes (photo © Pascale Cholette)

CORPS EXTRÊMES
Brooklyn Academy of Music
BAM Howard Gilman Opera House
30 Lafayette Ave. between Ashland Pl. & St. Felix St.
October 27-29, $44.50-$84.50
718-636-4100
www.bam.org

Choreographer Rachid Ouramdane and Chaillot — Théâtre national de la Danse make their high-flying BAM debut with the soaring Corps extrêmes, having its US premiere October 27-29 at the Howard Gilman Opera House. The sixty-minute multimedia piece is centered around a large climbing wall where eight acrobats from Compagnie XY (Joël Azou, Airelle Caen, Tamila de Naeyer, Löric Fouchereau, Peter Freeman, Maxime Seghers, Seppe Van Looveren, and Owen Winship) are joined on film and/or onstage by French tightrope walker Nathan Paulin, French rock climber Camille Doumas, and Swiss rock climber Nina Caprez. The work explores the relationship of the human body to the natural world, filled with possibility, danger, and fun. The original score is by Jean-Baptiste Julien, with costumes by Camille Panin, lighting by Stéphane Graillot, and video by Jean-Camille Goimard.

Corps extrêmes is part of BAM’s 2023-24 Next Wave Festival, which includes Geoff Sobelle’s Food, Lynette Wallworth’s How to Live (after you die), and composer Huang Ruo, director Matthew Ozawa, and filmmaker Bill Morrison’s Angel Island, as well as the citywide Dance Reflections Festival, which continues through December 14 with Boris Charmatz’s Somnole and Dimitri Chamblas and Kim Gordon’s takemehome at NYU Skirball, Ola Maciejewska’s Bombyx Mori at FIAF, and Dancing with Glass — The Piano Etudes at the Joyce.

PATRICIO GUZMÁN, DREAMING OF UTOPIA: 50 YEARS OF REVOLUTIONARY HOPE AND MEMORY

Series explores the political documentaries of Chilean filmmaker Patricio Guzmán

PATRICIO GUZMÁN, DREAMING OF UTOPIA: 50 YEARS OF REVOLUTIONARY HOPE AND MEMORY
Anthology Film Archives, Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM), IFC Center
September 7—15
www.cinematropical.com
www.patricioguzman.com

“A country without documentary cinema is like a family without a photo album,” Chilean filmmaker Patricio Guzmán has said. In conjunction with the fiftieth anniversary of General Augusto Pinochet’s coup d’état on September 11, 1973, when the military overthrew the government of democratically elected Chilean president Salvador Allende, Icarus Films and Cinema Tropical are presenting “Patricio Guzmán, Dreaming of Utopia: 50 Years of Revolutionary Hope and Memory,” consisting of nine works by the award-winning eighty-two-year-old Santiago-born, France-based director. Screening at Anthology Film Archives, BAM, and IFC Center, the festival opens September 7-10 at Anthology with 2004’s Salvador Allende, followed September 8-15 by the US premiere of a new restoration of 1972’s The First Year, which documents Allende’s initial twelve months as president, with the 6:45 show of the latter on September 8 followed by a Q&A with Chilean artist Cecilia Vicuña and Lehigh University professor of art history Florencia San Martín and a reception.

BAM highlights Guzmán’s three-part The Battle of Chile September 8-14, with filmmakers Pamela Yates, Paco de Onís, and Bernardita Llanos participating in a conversation after the 5:15 screening of part three on September 9 at 5:15. And on September 13-14, IFC screens Guzmán’s Chile Trilogy, consisting of 2010’s Nostalgia for the Light, 2015’s The Pearl Button, and 2019’s The Cordillera of Dreams, along with his latest film, 2022’s My Imaginary Country, about recent social unrest and protests. “A piano sonata cannot be heard in a large room. Documentary works need a different framework, a space and an intelligent programming formula,” Guzmán told Uruguayan critic Jorge Ruffinelli for a 2001 book. That’s just what Icarus Films and Cinema Tropical have given us with “Dreaming of Utopia.”

Nostalgia for the Light offers a breathtaking look at memory and the past, from above and below

NOSTALGIA FOR THE LIGHT (NOSTALGIA DE LA LUZ) (Patricio Guzmán, 2010)
IFC Center
323 Sixth Ave.
Wednesday, September 13, 6:30
www.ifccenter.com
www.nostalgiaforthelight.com

Master documentarian Patricio Guzmán’s Nostalgia for the Light is a brilliant examination of memory and the past, one of the most intelligent and intellectual films you’re ever likely to see. But don’t let that scare you off — it is also a vastly entertaining, deeply emotional work that will blow you away with its stunning visuals and heartbreaking stories. Guzmán, who chronicled the assassination of Salvador Allende and the rise of Augusto Pinochet in the landmark three-part political documentary The Battle of Chile, this time visits the Atacama Desert in his native Chile, considered to be the driest place on Earth. Situated ten thousand feet above sea level, the desert is home to La Silla and Paranal Observatories, where astronomers come from all over the world to get unobstructed views of the stars and galaxies, unimpeded by pollution or electronic interference. However, it is also a place where women still desperately search for the remains of their loved ones murdered by Pinochet’s military regime and hidden away in mass graves. In addition, archaeologists have discovered mummies and other fossilized bones dating from pre-Columbian times there. Guzmán seamlessly weaves together these three journeys into the past — as astronomers such as Gaspar Galaz and Luis Hernandez note, by the time they see stars either with the naked eye or through the lens of their massive telescopes, the celestial bodies have been long dead — creating a fascinating narrative that is as thrilling as it is breathtaking.

Constructing a riveting tale of memory, Guzmán speaks with architect Miguel Lawner, who draws detailed maps of the Chacabuca desert concentration camp where he and so many other political prisoners were held; Valentina, a young astronomer whose grandparents had to give up her parents in order to save her when she was a baby; archaeologist Lautaro Nunez, who digs up mummies while trying to help the women find “los desaparecidos”; and Victoria and Violeta, who regularly comb the barren landscape in search of their relatives. “I wish the telescopes didn’t just look into the sky but could also see through the earth so that we could find them,” Violeta says at one point. Spectacularly photographed by Katell Dijan, Nostalgia for the Light is a modern masterpiece, an unparalleled cinematic experience that has to be seen to be believed. The screening will be introduced by San Francisco State University School of Cinema assistant professor Elizabeth Ramírez Soto, author of (Un)veiling Bodies: A Trajectory of Chilean Post-dictatorship Documentary.

[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]

BAM NEXT WAVE: TRANSVERSE ORIENTATION

Dimitris Papaioannou returns to BAM with another extravaganza, Transverse Orientation (photo by Julian Mommert)

Who: Dimitris Papaioannou
What: US premiere of dance-theater work
Where: Brooklyn Academy of Music, BAM Howard Gilman Opera House, 30 Lafayette Ave. between Ashland Pl. & St. Felix St.
When: November 7-11, $44.50 – $144, 7:30
Why: In 2019, Greek painter, comics artist, director, choreographer, performer, and set, costume, makeup, and lighting designer Dimitris Papaioannou made his BAM debut with The Great Tamer, which was heavily influenced by the legacy of Pina Bausch; in fact, Papaioannou was the first person invited to create a piece for Tanztheater Wuppertal following Bausch’s passing in 2009. Papaioannou is back at BAM, in the Howard Gilman Opera House, for the US premiere of Transverse Orientation, running November 7-11.

The 105-minute work, which delves into concepts of myth and religion in unusual ways, is performed by Damiano Ottavio Bigi, Šuka Horn, Jan Möllmer, Breanna O’Mara, Tina Papanikolaou, Łukasz Przytarski, Christos Strinopoulos, and Michalis Theophanous, with music by Antonio Vivaldi, sets by Tina Tzoka and Loukas Bakas, sound by Coti K., costumes by Aggelos Mendis, lighting by Stephanos Droussiotis, sculptures and special constructions by Props Nectarios Dionysatos, and mechanical inventions by Dimitris Korres. Bausch fans, and other lovers of experimental dance theater, are sure to delight in what looks to be a mind-blowing experience.

BAM NEXT WAVE: HAMLET

Thomas Ostermeier and Theater Schaubühne Berlin’ Hamlet continues at BAM through November 5 (photo © Stephanie Berger)

Who: Theater Schaubühne Berlin
What: Hamlet
Where: Brooklyn Academy of Music, Harvey Theater at the BAM Strong, 651 Fulton St.
When: October 27 – November 5, $74-$175
Why: Five years ago, Lars Eidinger electrified Brooklyn with his stunning portrayal of Richard III, the wildest and best I have ever seen, in Thomas Ostermeier and Theater Schaubühne Berlin’s ferocious adaptation at the BAM Harvey Theater. Eidinger, Ostermeier, and Schaubühne Berlin are back at the Harvey with their frantic take on the Bard’s Hamlet, running through November 5. The tragedy has been seen here in New York in numerous recent versions and reimaginings, from Robert Icke’s staging at Park Ave. Armory in repertory with The Oresteia and James Ijames’s Pulitzer Prize–winning Fat Ham at the Public to Potomac Theatre Project’s revival of Tom Stoppard’s Dogg’s Hamlet at Atlantic Stage 2, Dead Centre’s Hamnet at BAM Fisher, and Yaël Farber’s variation starring Ruth Negga at St. Ann’s Warehouse.

You can expect Eidinger to be a prince of Denmark unlike any other in this 165-minute adaptation, directed by Thomas Ostermeier and translated into German by dramaturg Marius von Mayenburg. The cast pairs Damir Avdic as Horatio and Guildenstern, Konrad Singer as Laertes and Rosencrantz, Robert Beyer as Osric and Polonius, amid other dual depictions, but it is Eidinger front and center, a mesmerizing actor who never holds anything back. You have been warned.

Lars Eidinger reinvents the prince of Denmark in Hamlet at BAM (photo © Stephanie Berger)

Update: It takes only minutes to realize that this Hamlet will resemble nothing you’ve ever seen. It opens with Eidinger, who at forty-six is about twice the age of his title character, beginning the “To Be, or Not to Be” soliloquy, which is supposed to unfurl in Act III. But he delivers only a few lines before joining the funeral of his murdered father, the former king, while his mother, Gertrude, and uncle, Claudius, stand under an umbrella at the burial. A cemetery worker has trouble with the coffin, water is sprayed from a hose, and the already unbalanced Hamlet, looking a bit doofy in his suspenders, falls face-first into the dirt over his father’s grave.

It’s Hamlet as vaudeville shtick, but with a camera that Hamlet uses to film himself and others as nefarious truths come out. Jan Pappelbaum’s set features lots of dirt and two white tables that move between the front and back of the stage, separated by a hanging curtain on which the live video is projected. (The costumes are by Nina Wetzel, music by Nils Ostendorf, video by Sébastien Dupouey, and lighting by Erich Schneider.)

A few moments later, when Claudius says, “But now, my nephew Hamlet, and my son — ,” a shocked Hamlet, unaware that his mother is betrothed to his uncle, does a double take and wonders aloud, “What? I didn’t get that,” then says to himself the more well known line, “A little more than kin, and less than kind.”

Eidinger is given free rein by Ostermeier, like an improv comic portraying the prince of Denmark. At one point, Eidinger jumped off the stage and approached a young man sitting front and center in the first row, wearing a black mask and a hoodie. Eidinger, who speaks German as Hamlet but English when he goes off-script, tried to get the man to interact with him, with no luck, leading to some yucks. Later, Eidinger tossed a shovel that accidentally bounced off the stage and landed near a woman in the audience. In the middle of his dialogue, Eidinger realized what happened and asked the woman if she was okay. It’s often hard to know what is scripted and when Eidinger is going with his instincts; just wait till you see his fencing battle with Laertes.

Even when he’s not lumbering across the stage (and off it), Hamlet is toying around, as if he has ADHD, banging on the table like a spoiled child and putting silly things on his face. The rest of the cast — Damir Avdic as Horatio and Guildenstern, Konrad Singer as Laertes and Rosencrantz, Robert Beyer as Osric and Polonius, Urs Jucker or Thomas Bading as Claudius and the ghost king, and Jenny König as Gertrude and Ophelia, a pairing that intensifies Hamlet’s cries of incest — is merely in service of Eidinger.

It can be a bit much in the 105-minute first act, which can get so chaotic it loses the narrative thread; if you’re not familiar with the story, you’re unlikely to know what’s going on all the time, especially with the doubling of characters who don’t change costumes. But the show comes together fabulously in the forty-five-minute second act — Eidinger even assures us that it’s much shorter than the first act — as the plot is more apparent and Hamlet (and Eidinger) is somewhat more focused if still as wildly unpredictable. There’s a method to his madness, even if Polonius’s classic pronouncement, “Though this be madness, yet there is method in’t,” has been cut from the production. You also won’t hear anything about a “rogue and peasant slave,” “pernicious woman,” or “damned villain,” but Hamlet will command you to “please switch off your mobile phones!”

Hamlet explains, “It’s all just theater and yet also reality.” Throughout Shakespeare’s tragedy, Hamlet is battling reality, encountering ghosts and interpreting events through his own warped world view. But Ostermeier and Eidinger continually remind us that we are watching theater. And what theater it is, unique, original, flabbergasting, exciting, hilarious, and downright strange.