D. Fritzi Wartenberg
Fritzi Wartenberg’s staging of Max Frisch’s Biedermann und die Brandstifter (“Biedermann and the arsonists”) is a full-blown, technicolor explosion of the grotesque, a theatrical feast that leaves you squirming with laughter and a nagging sense of unease.
Imagine Dr. Seuss collaborating with The Rocky Horror Picture Show on a Brechtian parable and you’re halfway there. Kathrin Wehlisch’s Biedermann, a middle-class hair tonic salesman with a penchant for performative philanthropy, is the perfect embodiment of bourgeois complacency. He rails against local arsonists Schmitz (a deliciously creepy Max Gindorff) and Eisenring (Maeve Metelka), yet throws open his doors to them even as their intentions become disturbingly clear.
The dynamic between the three is gold, a masterclass in manipulation and wilful blindness. But the real genius lies in the play’s deconstruction. As Biedermann’s carefully fabricated world crumbles, the theatre’s stagehands take over, dismantling the set chaotically, almost violently. It’s a brilliant metaphor for the unraveling of order, a reminder that sometimes the only way to confront the threat of arson is to tear down the walls yourself.
Wartenberg’s production is wickedly funny, embracing the play’s absurdity with open arms. It’s also a timely reminder of our own capacity for denial. Biedermann und die Brandstifter is the theatrical equivalent of the “this is fine” dog meme, a darkly comedic reflection of our times. Go see it; you won’t be disappointed. Just don’t bring a lighter.
- Biedermann und die Brandstifter, Mar 14, German with English surtitles, Berliner Ensemble, Bertolt-Brecht-Platz 1, Mitte, details.
