Less is more: it can be done!

Yes, it can be done! Less is more! I heaved the last sigh on Wednesday, May 13, following the production Benvenuto Cellini by Hector Berlioz, which Monty Python director Terry Gilliam created for the National Opera. Immediately the same evening, I was caught off guard at the premiere of The peach of immortality by Rieks Swarte at the Toneelschuur in Haarlem. This is a moving story based on Jan Wolkers' book of the same name, about a couple who were in the resistance during the war and then never got their lives back in line.

Wife Corry has hit the booze and spends most of her days in bed, where her inseparable dog Snoet pees under the sheets. Her husband Ben tries to keep both wife and dog happy, but is equally living in the past, admitting to his chagrin that he was a lot less heroic than his wife. But perhaps even worse, she will never love him as much as the brave Henk, who died for the cause.

Mix of radio play and drama

The production consists of a catchy mix of radio play (with a real Geräuschmacher), cartoon (Swarte films live self-made drawings and scale models of the Amsterdam Rivierenbuurt, which act as a backdrop), mime, and acting. The text consists of a long monologue by the sad Ben Ruwiel, who more or less accidentally gets caught up in the festivities on the thirty-fifth anniversary of the liberation in 1980. Sadly, he watches as the Canadian soldiers are applauded, when that applause should really be gelling the former resistance heroes.

Actor Ali Çifteci delivers a phenomenal performance. For almost an hour and a half, he is talking continuously. Flawlessly, he displays a huge range of emotions, also conveying the many 'senior moments' and the discomforts of his decaying body without embellishment. He is equally skilfully counter-acted by Margje Wittermans, who uses an apron, a wig, a jacket or a beret to bring to life a seemingly endless series of passers-by.

Also splendid is the little plush dog, animated by the performers with simple hand movements. Sometimes he lays his head miserably on Ben's lap, other times he tries helplessly to jump onto Ben's bed. Hilarious is the moment when Snoet struggles to force a turd out of his old body, shaking violently. You can see it is fake, but you are still touched to the core. This simple but oh so effective artificiality reminded me strongly of the also human-made main character in A Dog's Heart  From the National Opera.

In short, a wonderful production, which I can heartily recommend to everyone! Tomorrow, my theatre colleague Maarten Baanders will attend the performance, I wonder what he will write about it on Saturday!