Berliner Ensemble | A Guard Named Hate

To begin with the conclusion, namely the final applause after "De Profundis," the opening premiere at the Berliner Ensemble's season opener: Such astonished applause from the capital's auditorium, which is usually lazy when it comes to applause, hasn't been experienced at this house for years. Of course, it's not the critic's job to discuss and interpret the audience's reactions. But determining who the cheers are for requires no special, let alone clairvoyant, abilities: Here, a star actor is being welcomed, who has been part of the famous ensemble at Bertolt-Brecht-Platz 1 since this season. A theater star the likes of which this city has been lacking, and whom Hamburg and Munich have been envious of for years.

Iffland Ring winner Jens Harzer is settling into his new artistic home. In addition to his occasional forays into film and television ("Babylon Berlin"), he most recently worked at the Thalia Theater in Hamburg and has occasionally delighted audiences as a guest in Vienna and Bochum.

And now he stands alone on the stage of the Berliner Ensemble. He calls out to the audience with his unmistakable voice. He lets his character wrestle with the text, with himself, declaims proudly, pokes doubtfully, sings sadly. Every hand movement seems completely natural in this artificial space. Quiet pride, fervent contempt, self-loathing—this man knows how to display it all. And for the entire evening, Harzer won't let you go. He exerted himself to the point of exhaustion. And in front of this exceptional performer in the stalls, you feel exhausted yourself, in a good sense.

This production thrives on and through a superb actor. If Harzer didn't know how to immerse himself in a piece of literature with his entire body for almost two hours, little would remain of this evening.

When planning their repertoire, the Berliner Ensemble chose "De Profundis" by Oscar Wilde, a classic of world literature and gay icon. It's not one of the famous texts by the Irish author, who died 125 years ago, nor is it one he wrote for the stage, nor one that would even be particularly suitable as a stage setting. It's a long, 50,000-word letter that Wilde, convicted of homosexual practices, wrote while serving two years in prison.

Its addressee is Lord Alfred Douglas, Wilde's longtime lover. The letter is an indictment and a plea, a self-criticism, a prison account, a treatise on the philosophy of art, and a grand litany. Douglas, we learn, did not deign to pay his respects to his friend in prison. And Douglas, Wilde lets us know, bears some of the blame, perhaps more than that, for the prisoner's situation. Caught up in a feud between him and his father, Wilde, and not Douglas, is denounced by the old man. Here he is, a sophisticated man, a dandy, a man of letters of distinction, and a homosexual, imprisoned under the most degrading conditions.

Despite its powerful language—"Vanity had barred the windows, and the guard's name was Hate," it states—this letter is more a testament to literary history than literature. That Harzer has a grasp of this text would be proven. But why was it presented to him? What does it tell us about the present?

At least Wilde's reflections contained therein—life as art and art as actual reality—can only be considered a quirk from the century before last. There's constant talk of genius, one notices with embarrassment. And it's impossible to distinguish exactly where a historically established conception of art ends and where kitsch begins.

Oliver Reese, artistic director of the Berliner Ensemble, was in charge of the direction (as well as the adaptation of the text). He lets the spotlight shine on the star of the evening. But he fails to convey the urgency of the letter's contents through his staging. Some decisions, such as the puppet-theater-like stage design and the use of a white plastic bag for his soloist, are incredibly clumsy. However, the fact that he lets his main character rack his brains without finding any imagery for the torture of inhuman labor that accompanies the prison sentence, is an annoying omission.

What remains most memorable from this evening's theater is Jens Harzer's acting performance. It will, however, remain etched in our memory. Once he's allowed to join the other ensemble members and showcase his talent in collaboration with other directors—Johan Simons! Frank Castorf!—perhaps Berlin will soon find its theatrical joy again.

Next performances: September 18, 29, and October 6. www.berliner-ensemble.de