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    In Munich, Young Directors Offer Horrors Both Real and Fantastical

    The Radikal Jung festival transports theatergoers to Russia’s 2014 invasion of eastern Ukraine and an American high school in the Middle Ages.MUNICH — At the end of a recent performance of “Bad Roads” here, the play’s Ukrainian director, Tamara Trunova, thanked the audience for staying for the entire 180-minute production, a harrowing succession of vignettes set in the Donbas region of eastern Ukraine, which Russia invaded in 2014, eight years before it undertook a larger war against Ukraine.“It’s much easier to drink a glass of wine than it is to watch our play,” Trunova said from the stage of the Münchner Volkstheater, where “Bad Roads” opened this year’s Radikal Jung (Radical Young) festival, an annual showcase of productions by up-and-coming directors.The two previously scheduled installments of Radikal Jung were canceled because of the pandemic. This year’s edition, which kicked off on June 26 and runs through this Saturday, is the first to be held in the Volkstheater’s brand-new home, a luxurious performing arts complex in a former slaughterhouse.The festival is traditionally focused on theater from the German-speaking world, but this year’s lineup of 11 plays was unusually international. The widened geographical perspective seemed to acknowledge the artistic affinities between the work of young German theater makers and their counterparts in Greece, London and Paris. All but one of their productions were of recently written dramas, which seemed to reflect a desire to tell new stories that specifically address contemporary concerns. Many of today’s burning issues — including the pandemic, debates around gender and sexuality, the ubiquity of pop culture and social media, life during wartime and climate change — surfaced in Radikal Jung’s varied crop of productions.In a strong lineup that also featured an innovative digital reworking of Goethe’s “The Sorrows of Young Werther” and a brilliantly acted one-woman show about Britney Spears, “Bad Roads” stood out — and not just for its torn-from-the-headlines immediacy.The Ukrainian writer Natalya Vorozhbit based the play, subtitled “Six Stories About Love and War,” largely on reports she gathered while traveling across combat zones in eastern Ukraine. An earlier version of “Bad Roads” was staged, in English, at the Royal Court Theater in London in 2017; Trunova’s production premiered at the Left Bank Theater in Kyiv in 2019. (A film version directed by Vorozhbit was Ukraine’s official entry in the 2022 Academy Awards.)On a stage dominated by a giant fence, a dozen actors vividly conjure Vorozhbit’s nightmarish tales. Hallucinogenic and frequently absurd, they alternate between the barbarically cruel and the banally quotidian. In the opening narrative, a journalist on a fact-finding mission in the Donbas needs to list her identifying body marks, such as moles and tattoos, on an application before entering the region, in case she is killed while on assignment.A scene from Natalya Vorozhbit’s “Bad Roads,” directed by Tamara Trunova at the Munich Volkstheater.Spyros RenntAnother moment in “Bad Roads,” which is subtitled “Six Stories About Love and War.”Spyros RenntThe reporter, who in initiating us into the war zone seems to be a stand-in for the playwright, recites a lengthy monologue that combines the prosaic and the poetic. She tells us about the suffering she finds as well as the conflicted sexual attraction she feels toward the soldier who leads her around. “You aren’t just some ripped Brad Pitt look-alike,” she says. “You really have killed another person.”This introductory story sets up the moral ambiguities of the tales that follow, in which ordinary people, robbed of their lives by a senseless conflict, are driven to extremes.The production is relentlessly dark and savage, even if it’s shot through with morbid humor, such as the moment when a medic who is transporting her lover’s corpse propositions the soldier who has accompanied her on the mission: “A body without a head in a body bag just doesn’t turn me on.”It was sometimes difficult, at least for this non-Russian- and non-Ukrainian-speaking viewer, to tell who was on which side. (The performance had German surtitles). The disorienting atmosphere brought to mind Sergei Loznitsa’s extraordinary film “Donbass,” another anthology of surreal episodes about the 2014 conflict. At the same time, Vorozhbit’s sensitivity to her characters’ psychologies — and her desire to understand the perspective even of violent perpetrators — make “Bad Roads” a deeply human work about the compromises, cunning and sheer blind luck that surviving in an inhuman time requires.It was almost a relief to leave the real-life horrors of “Bad Roads” behind for the immersive dystopia of “Gymnasium,” a “high school opera” written and directed by Bonn Park with music by Ben Roessler. The only Volkstheater production at Radikal Jung, it is quite possibly the loopiest and most entertaining German production that premiered last year. Set in a kooky mash-up of the late Middle Ages and the 1990s, the show is a campy, riotous sendup of films like “Carrie,” “Heathers” and “Clueless” that gleefully pokes fun at American high school myths.The stock characters and plot devices of teen comedies transposed to the eccentric setting provide Park and Roessler plenty of fuel for skewering our off-kilter world. Tribalism, feudalism and superstition are among the medieval codes that are resurgent in the “post-truth” digital age. With scrappily sung musical numbers and eye-poppingly colorful sets and costumes, “Gymnasium” comments on trolling, viral rumors and climate change skepticism with a gentle satirical touch.The hand-drawn sets, the low-budget special effects — including an active volcano that looms over the school — and the rough and spirited playing of the Orchestra Academy of the Munich Philharmonic (credited as the Orchestra of Cheerleaders) help make “Gymnasium” the senior play you wish your school had been awesome enough — or your classmates talented enough — to put on.While “Gymnasium” constructed its sui generis world from history and pop culture references, “We Are in the Army Now,” from the Greek director Elias Adam, plunged its audience into a largely digital theatrical universe to probe the hopes, anxieties and confusions of Gen Z.First presented as part of an online theater festival put on by the Onassis Foundation-Stegi in Athens, this impossible-to-categorize show is a social media vaudeville where four fearless young performers bare their souls (and a lot of skin) while screaming into the cyber void.“We Are in the Army Now,” from the Greek director Elias Adam, at the Munich Volkstheater.Pinelopi GerasimouWhile their tools of self-expression are TikTok and Instagram — and many parts of the live performances are captured with the performers’ smartphones or computers and projected at the back of the stage — their grievances are old as the hills: rage at their parents, unhappy loves, the impotence to change a world that refuses to accept them. Their autobiographical monologues, staged with furious energy and physicality, are alternatively heartbreaking and empowering. In an exuberant finale, the actors engage in some kick-ass cosplay, battling against the patriarchy and their own self-destructive tendencies as glam-rock Power Rangers.Our world and the people in it need some serious sorting out. The innovative productions at Radikal Jung suggested that theater can help us untangle things, however modestly, by fostering a greater sense of solidarity with the victims of complex systems of oppression. As an actor in “We Are in the Army Now” says, “Ideology can’t be explained using emojis.”Radikal JungThrough Saturday at the Münchner Volkstheater; muenchner-volkstheater.de. More

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    Two Theaters, Different Worlds

    Munich is throwing off a provincial reputation to become a global cultural powerhouse. Yet tensions between local and cosmopolitan impulses in the city’s playhouses remain.MUNICH — This month, hundreds of elegant Bavarians, many decked out in the region’s traditional dress of lederhosen and dirndls, gathered for the festive opening of the new Volkstheater, a striking and luxurious performing arts complex built into the cobbled courtyards of a 19th-century abattoir.That the Volkstheater was inaugurated a week after the opening of Isarphilharmonie, a world-class concert hall, seemed a further signal that Munich is throwing off its provincial reputation and growing into a global cultural powerhouse.Yet tensions between local and cosmopolitan impulses in the city’s arts scene remain, and nowhere are they clearer than in the different approaches of the Volkstheater and another state-funded playhouse, the Münchner Kammerspiele. Once described as Munich’s “unloved child,” the Volkstheater was willed into existence in 1983 by a conservative mayor who wanted a more traditional alternative to the artistically and politically provocative Kammerspiele.The Volkstheater’s $150 million venue is a vindication of the artistic course that its longtime leader, Christian Stückl, has charted for the house. In 2002, Stückl arrived as the artistic director and set about building an ensemble of young actors, including many fresh out of drama school. Nearly two decades later, the theater is known far and wide as an incubator of talent. The company’s “Radical Young” festival, founded in 2005, showcases productions by up-and-coming directors from theaters throughout the German-speaking world.The Kammerspiele — whose history stretches back more than a century and includes world premieres by the dramatic titans Bertolt Brecht and Frank Wedekind — is also in the midst of a new beginning. It recently kicked off its second season under its artistic director, Barbara Mundel, who has brought in a mostly new (and greatly expanded) acting ensemble and a diverse team of artistic collaborators.Jan Meeno Jürgens, left, and Alexandros Koutsoulis in the Volkstheater’s “Edward II.” Arno DeclairStarting in the middle of a pandemic, however, has not been easy, and the Kammerspiele has often struggled to define or articulate its vision. So I wouldn’t be too surprised if the theater is eying the Volkstheater, whose splashy opening is still making headlines and generating excitement here, with something like envy.With a swanky home for its tried and tested model of traditional theater performed by young players, the Volkstheater seems in the ascendant. But it remains to be seen whether the company can appeal to a public beyond its mostly local base.Stückl’s production of Christopher Marlowe’s “Edward II,” which inaugurated the stage, seems the sort of stylish yet conventional staging that could attract wider audiences. The production is sensitively acted and poignantly illustrates the medieval English king’s passionate and heedless love for Gaveston, the earl of Cornwall, which the monarch pursues as his court plots against him.With its sizable dramatis personae, “Edward II” proves a good opportunity to show off the Volkstheater’s fresh-faced ensemble, as well as the technical capacities of the stage. The costumes and the minimal props — including a bathtub and throne — vibrate with electric pinks and purples against the black expanse of the neon-lit stage, whose frequent rotations facilitate seamless entrances and exits over two intermissionless hours.“Edward II” is the first of 15 premieres that the house has planned for this season, along with works by George Orwell and Oscar Wilde and several new plays. Yet the company’s repertoire leans heavily on the classics, from Shakespeare to foundational German works.Pascal Fligg in “Felix Krull,” an adaptation of the Thomas Mann novel at the Volkstheater.Andrea HuberA brilliantly acted chamber version of Thomas Mann’s “The Confessions of Felix Krull, Confidence Man” is the Volkstheater’s first revival in its new home. Presented in the house’s second, smaller theater, the 2011 staging, adapted from the novel by the show’s director, Bastian Kraft, feels remarkably fresh considering its age. Kraft succeeds in conjuring the colorful life and globe-trotting adventures of Mann’s charming confidence man with limited means.The cast remains unchanged from a decade ago: Pascal Fligg, Nicola Fritzen and Justin Mühlenhardt give heroic performances, dividing the role of Krull among them. The three bring the rakish trickster to life through a series of fast, witty and sweaty performances that are triumphs of bravura acting.“Felix Krull” is one of the Volkstheater’s classic productions, and it still sells out. Things look very different over at the Kammerspiele, which is building up its repertoire pretty much from scratch. (Almost none of the company’s productions from before Mundel’s tenure have been retained.) The program includes few famous plays or recognizable titles. Instead, the Kammerspiele is taking a gamble on recent and freshly commissioned works by international artists, dramatists and theater collectives.The cast of Sivan Ben Yishai’s “Like Lovers Do (Memoirs of Medusa),” directed by Pinar Karabulut at the Kammerspiele in Munich.Krafft AngererOne young author working at the theater is the Israeli writer Sivan Ben Yishai, whose “Like Lovers Do (Memoirs of Medusa)” recently received its world premiere there. This provocative play is a ferocious and uncompromising dramatic treatise about sexual violence, abuse, self-harm and the psychologically damaging expectations placed on girls and women in a sexist society. The playbill contains a trigger warning that may be tongue-in-cheek. (“Trigger warnings sell,” a character tells us.)Thankfully, Pinar Karabulut’s stylishly campy and colorful production does not put any violence or cruelty onstage. The spirited five-member cast, drawn from the house’s ensemble, recite (and occasionally sing) the X-rated dialogue while decked out in wacky comic-book costumes by Teresa Vergho. Karabulut’s whimsical dollhouse aesthetic provides a much-welcome contrast to the play’s relentless brutality; the production’s irony and dark humor help the audience get through what would otherwise be an unremittingly grim evening.The Kammerspiele’s terrific ensemble is also front and center in “The Politicians,” a dramatic monologue by Wolfram Lotz. It’s a lengthy poetic manifesto that feels outraged and urgent — though what it means isn’t always clear. In its incantatory power and rhythmic flow, it can be mesmerizing on a purely aural level, and its mix of sense and nonsense opens up an infinite number of theatrical possibilities.Bekim Latifi in “Like Lovers Do (Memoirs of Medusa)” at the Kammerspiele. Krafft AngererWhen performed for the first time, embedded inside a Berlin production of “King Lear” at the Deutsches Theater, the entirety of “The Politicians” was entrusted to a single actress; in Munich, the director Felicitas Brucker distributes Lotz’s text among three performers. For a little over an hour, Katharina Bach, Svetlana Belesova and Thomas Schmauser declaim the agitated text with white-hot intensity. Performing from isolated cubbyholes that resemble a bedroom, a workshop and a kitchen in one, and whose walls often crawl with video-game-like animation, the agile actors inject hilarity and disquiet into their absurd speeches.The single weirdest, most wonderful moment in this dizzying evening is when Bach — who delivers the most impressively unhinged performance — pauses briefly amid a fiery torrent of nigh-incomprehensible babble to ask the audience, with deadpan directness, “Any questions?”Based on the evidence so far, the Kammerspiele under Mundel is more interested in art that poses questions rather than provides answers. I hope Munich’s theater lovers rise to the challenge of discovering the untested repertoire that she is introducing to this storied house. By comparison, the more popular and crowd-pleasing Volkstheater, installed in its state-of-the-art home, finds itself in a better position than ever before to convince audiences — including those skeptical about a more traditional approach — of its theatrical vision.From left, Katharina Bach, Svetlana Belesova and Thomas Schmauser in “The Politicians,” directed by Felicitas Brucker, at the Kammerspiele.Judith BussEdward II. Directed by Christian Stückl. Münchner Volkstheater, through Nov. 25.Felix Krull. Directed by Bastian Kraft. Münchner Volkstheater, through Nov. 6.Like Lovers Do (Memories of Medusa). Directed by Pinar Karabulut. Münchner Kammerspiele, through Nov. 15.The Politicians. Directed by Felicitas Brucker. Münchner Kammerspiele, through Nov. 24. More