'We're not going to talk about Jiskefet, are we?' For Michiel Romeyn, all of life is theatre

Even though the satirical programme exists Jiskefet not for more than 15 years, Michiel Romeyn (66) is still recognised on the street as 'lullo' Van Binsbergen, 'the white nigger' Oboema or office clerk Storm. In Romeyn's existence, the dividing line between life and theatre is fluid. 'I like to disrupt things.'

'We are hopefully not going to talk about Jiskefet have, eh?" says Michiel, as he sits down on the terrace of De Ysbreker on the Amstel. The reason for the interview is the book Michiel Romeyn; Do you determine that?, a book about the comedian/actor/visual artist, supplemented with personal stories written by himself. Of course, a significant part of the book does deal with the Jiskefet-period; after all, the satirical programme by Herman Koch, Kees Prins and Michiel Romeyn, broadcast by VPRO from 1990 to 2005, was wildly popular. So popular that more than 15 years on, Romeyn is still recognised and addressed on the streets for his legendary characters and sketches.

Life is theatre

Anyone reading the book about Romeyn will notice that for him there hardly seems to be a dividing line between 'normal life' and theatre - life ís theatre. During the interview, he thinks up a skit for everyone who passes by on the street. 'I always try to make people laugh or make the embarrassment splash off their jaws. I like to disrupt things.'

From your book, I understood that humour is a way for you to deal with social tension.

'That's right, I don't cope well with tension in a company or painful social situations, for example if someone suddenly says something the others don't like, causing a painful silence. To break the awkwardness of such moments, I then start playing the buffoon. Funerals, weddings, speeches... I am terrified that on such occasions I will suddenly suffer from "Michiel de la Tourette's disease" and start shouting something weird or inappropriate or burst out laughing. My grandfather had that fear too.'

 Even anger would be a source of inspiration for you.

'Absolutely. Awkwardness, discomfort and anger are close together.'

 What are you upset about?

'Man, do you have a minute? All sorts of things annoy me terribly. For instance, the fact that people nowadays shamelessly talk out loud on the phone about their love lives or other banal subjects. But I also have great difficulty with enforcement, especially when it makes no sense.'

And then you rebel by putting on a one-man show.

'Yes. Like when I was walking my dog along the Weesperzijde in the morning on 1 January and some enforcers clamped me from the Berlage Bridge. "Sir, you didn't leash your dog, so you'll get a hundred euro fine." One hundred euros! On 1 January! I thought: I'll turn it around. So I said, "What are you telling me! I thought I was in The Parool had read that it was free for dogs on 1 January. Cunt, cunt, sorry! You are absolutely right, how incredibly stupid of me. And I do still have a leash with me." I dropped to my knees in front of the mosque and started chastising myself, slapping myself rock hard on my back with the belt. The men turned white: "No sir, there's no need for that!" Eventually they drove away with squealing tyres, I think they thought I had gone completely mad. Ha ha, that arises on the spot, yes. Such a man in a suit unleashing his authority on me for something that doesn't need to be enforced at all, because it doesn't matter at all - I really can't stand that.'

You are 66. Doesn't that resistance get milder with age?

[Laughs] 'Ah no. But at home I'm very neat you know. I read the newspaper and have a cup of coffee. Pet the dog.'

Bizarre stories

Do we get to know a different Michiel Romeyn in this book?

'Yes, because I tell bizarre stories that really happened. Like when I had to get some books from the basement for a friend in a villa near the Vondelpark where he worked. Suddenly I hear the stairs creak and a beautiful, blonde woman in a white dress appears, with tears in her eyes. She falls around my neck and starts crying very loudly: "I killed my child! Turns out that upstairs in the building is a child abuse agency and that this woman had really killed her child. Then I come out into the street and hear a huge bang: a car totally crushed and the driver's bloody head on the steering wheel. I force the door, drag the woman out of the car, and she starts talking to me in English. I put her on the pavement, speak to her reassuringly in English. She looks at me startled, and suddenly she starts shouting in flat Amsterdamian: "Keep your hands off me, you dirty, filthy bastard." Apparently, she was in shock. That same evening, I suddenly see my girlfriend standing there kissing someone else. And so all within 24 hours. I find myself in such wonderful situations more often. Maybe that helps you better imagine why Michiel Romeyn is the way he is. And that I do something with that, like programmes like Jiskefet '

Now that the J-word has been dropped: how annoying is it that you are still mostly known for Jiskefet?

'Well, that just sticks with me. No matter how much I have made and how many characters I have played, everyone still only talks about Storm in that office, and occasionally Oboema. That's the so-called Swiebertje effect.'

Is there room for artists like you today?

Romeyn laughs. 'It was a quest for me; I was extremely lucky that we were with Jiskefet were in the right place at the right time. With this head at this time, I don't think I would have ended well.

There used to be more room for experimentation; VPRO was a sanctuary for that. You could let something emerge, whereas nowadays a programme has to score immediately, otherwise it is shot down. For that reason, television still consists mainly of all kinds of formats that resemble each other. Also, everything is much more politically correct. Much of what we did cannot be done nowadays. At the request of the black community, I voiced the commercial for the Kwaku Festival as Oboema for a very long time. But some time ago, in NRC Handelsblad voices to ban the character Oboema. Jesus, I thought, it shouldn't get any crazier. Soon after, I passed this terrace, and a big black man called out to me, "Oboema, Oboema!" So I stopped and he told me he worked at KLM and played a skit by Oboema two, three times a week. I asked him if that was allowed. "Why shouldn't it be allowed?" he replied, "you're not making fun of me, it's just for laughs." The arrogance that we as Green Left white intellectuals set the standards, that is really something of our time. This is not allowed, that is allowed, that should not be - as if you were at the Stedelijk Gymnasium in Veenendaal.'

Lost playground

 Of the three of you, stopping Jiskefet on your career to have had the most impact.

'Well... it did feel like my playground was taken away. Herman started writing and Kees started making musicals with Joop van den Ende. But I didn't really have any metier. Although, I have been in an awful lot of films, such as the hit All is love, and have been nominated for another Golden Calf. And I have been in a few big international productions: Wings of Fame, starring Peter O'Toole and Colin Firth, and Prospero's Books by Peter Greenaway. Not that those were great roles, but I found the whole circus around them witty.

Of course, I am asked less and less for film roles, but I keep on working and making things. Like recently with Max Porcelijn, with whom I made the sketch series Trecx created for Amazon. That's even stranger than Jiskefet. It is actually visual art on TV. With a regular broadcaster, you don't get in with a programme like that anymore. That is bitter, but in the meantime I made it anyway. And it turned out well, I'm really proud of it'.

Emotional bungee jumping

You once called acting "emotional bungee jumping". Why do you want to take that on every time?

It's a cliché, but being able to put myself in someone's shoes is a challenge every time. You tap into something you are yourself, but at the same time you tap into something you are not yourself at all. Like a child playing knight or cowboy'.

So you will spend your life playing knight and cowboy?

Romeyn pulls a quasi-serious face. 'I'm afraid so, ma'am.'