Wunderbaum sows beautiful doubt in Mijke de Jong's 'Stop Acting Now' (HF16)

Wunderbaum. Among lovers of fresh and young theatre, this collective of creators stirred something up at the beginning of this century. They were born and bred under Johan Simons, where they formed the youth team of his legendary theatre group Hollandia. And because back then, every young maker really had to do something with the world, JongHollandia, later Wunderbaum, wanted the same. But because they lived in the post-ideological era and saw every day how the ideals of their teachers, parents and mentors came to nothing, it mainly became a club of doubters. And they were very good at that.

Did I say 'were'? That could mean that Wunderbaum has hung the lyre on the willows, and that is exactly the premise of the wonderful film 'Stop Acting Now', with which they are now showing at the Holland Festival. The film was made by Mijke de Jong, one of The country's better filmmakers, and that results in something very beautiful. Typically Wunderbaum for the few hundred connoisseurs and friends of the small company, very much Mijke de Jong for the thousands of connoisseurs and friends of her work.

But this film, in which five independent artists decide to throw open their protected collective because they now really want to do something for the world, could appeal to an audience of millions. I got, thanks to De Jong's cinematic integrity and the fine balancing between fiction and reality that the Wunderbaumers are so good at, very strong associations with 'This Life', the series that kept me up nights in the 1990s.

With 'This Life', the BBC laid the foundation for all later series that would go on to be made worldwide: Plea, Friends, Sex and the city, Girls, Cold Feet, and so on. This Life, though perhaps slower than is now desirable, still stands out head and shoulders above the nachwuchs out: only one can be the best.

'Stop Acting Now' comes very close to the impact, humour and tragedy of 'This Life'. Somewhere halfway through the film, I thought, "This should be a series!", but at the same time realised how difficult it was going to be to pair the five collective individualists with a writing team that would provide them with enough material for three seasons of doubt TV. Although even with one episode on national television, they would reach more audiences with their institutionalised dubio, the actors would soon get bored. They would want to throw themselves back into something else, averse as they are to hierarchy, coercion and commerce. The Wunderbaumers would rather present their existential doubt to 10 real viewers than try to do so with a stadium full.

An example of this quirkiness is the 'XL' event they use to accompany the film at festivals. In and so-called post-talk, the actors decide not to answer questions from the audience themselves. Instead, they present the audience with about 50 moral and ethical dilemmas, which can be answered with a show of hands. Which, in turn, is not further hinted at during the evening, but leads to more or less lively conversations during the beer afterwards.

I actually found it a bit of a bummer, however tantalising the questions were at times. Sometimes a film should just be a film, and a theatre show should just be a theatre show. I wouldn't consider the added value of the combo worth the trip in this case.

Now let's hope that - after four years of experimenting with a new future in 'The New Forest' - they will spend another four years working on The New Life. On TV. Or Youtube. And then do something with theatre again.