OVERVIEW OF PRODUCTIONS IN BUDAPEST
AS OF THE END OF 2020
Theatre is at a standstill under lockdown. However, if you want to imagination yourself back in the színház, or simply wish to prepare for its eventual reopening – here is an overview of the various productions, based on offerings from October and November 2020, when the theaters were briefly active.
Entries are arranged by theater or venue.
Budapest Bábszínház (Puppet Theatre)
Gengszter nagyi [Gangster Grandma] This adaptation of a British children’s show has been a long-running favorite, and it is easy to see why. After 11-year-old misfit Ben (Nobert Ács) discovers that his “boring” grandmother (Gyöngyi Blasek) is a skilled cat-burglar, he eventually concocts a scheme for them to steal the Crown Jewels. Norbert Ács and Edina Ellinger ham it up outrageously as Ben’s parents, but that does not detract from this tear-jerking portrayal of cross-generational understanding. Thoroughly charming!
Semmi [Nothing] Climb four flights of stairs to the Lili Ország Studio and try to get a seat in the front row on the left side for this puppet show adaptation of the nihilistic Danish young adult novel by Janne Teller. When 7th-grade Pierre becomes a malcontent, his classmates sacrifice their favorite things to demonstrate what is good about life. (This part is rather predictable.) Then comes a second round and – whoa, how morbid will they go?! As the characters make their ultimate sacrifices, they put away their puppets (childhood selves) and continue to perform as adults. There are still some twists in store, and it is all punctuated by good rock numbers performed by the cast. An entertaining show!
Budapest Operetta Theater
A Csárdaskirálynő [Queen of the Csardás] This campy gem by operetta king Imre Kálmán features some of his best music. I have not yet been able to catch this new staging, directed by Attila Vidnyánszky and choreographed by Yvett Bozsik, but I am willing to bet it is better than the last unbearably tacky revival by Miklós Szinetár.
Marica grófnő [Countess Marica] This is a fine introduction to the world of operetta and the music of Imre Kálmán with catchy tunes and potentially acrobatic dance numbers. Also, you need not understand the flimsy plot to enjoy it. I have not yet caught this new staging, directed and choreographed by Yvett Bozsik; however, in light of her arresting modern dance productions in the past, the end result could be interesting.
A Pendragon-legenda [The Pendragon Legend] It is difficult to get a seat in the tiny and ornate Kálmán Imre Teátrum (entrance off the buffet), but if you are a fan of WTF theatre, this is a must-see. When adapting Antal Szerb’s mystical thriller parody novel (available in English), creators Adrián Kovács and Attila Galambos tossed in some operetta confection, some darkly iconoclast musical numbers, and some Harry Potter (or is it Star Wars?) to create a mind-bending clash of styles. Still, the music is competent, and the performers are touchingly committed to this truly bonkers spectacle. If some aspects of the production seem cheap, just wait for the eye-popping Black Mass finale. All in all, it is an unbelievable experience.
Centrál Színház (Central Theater)
Delila [Delilah] The star-studded cast delivers a pitch-perfect rendition of this rarely seen piece by comic master Ferenc Molnár, but the material, in which a clever wife saves her husband from a greedy young temptress, is quite dated and corny. Recommended for those who want a trip back in theatre time.
Erkel Színház (Erkel Theater)
The Erkel is the main venue for the Hungarian State Opera’s performances now that the traditional opera house is under reconstruction. You can find it in the recently renamed Pope John-Paul II Square (II.János Pál papa tér) or turn onto Luther Street from Rákóczi Avenue.
Manon Lescaut In place of their last production of Puccini’s classic potboiler (which was standard, boring, but workman-like), this quasi-modern version fails to deliver. It is too inept in its traditionalism to convey the plot properly, and the avant-garde touches feel superfluous, derivative, or worse. (The random demonic extras seem lifted from the work of Romanian director Silviu Purcărete.) Perhaps the weakest part is Act One, which has no consistent visual style and seems costumed from four different operas. Also an arriving car effect falls so flat, it makes you wonder, "Why did they bother?" Close your eyes during the overture to Act Three in order to miss the tacky video. Plus, the massive set is immobile, and they do not mask it for the final scene in the desert, so just pretend it is not there. That said, the work itself is beautiful and heart-wrenching, the orchestra plays well, and the singers are by and large up to the vocal challenges.
La Traviata This classic, too, has received a revamped production, and judging from the promotional video, they chose an evocative, symbolic approach. Even if modern direction annoys you, this piece is a great introduction to Verdi and opera in general with its undeniably catchy songs and moving plot.
Hatszín Teatrum
Varsói melódia [Warsaw Melody] In this two-character piece, Kátya Tompos and Bálint Adorjáni are very attractive as the Polish-Russian couple less crossed by fate than inconvenienced by bad timing. Nevertheless, they lack the characterization to bring these sketchy scenes, spanning two decades, to life.
Prah Real-life couple Oszkár and Szilia Nyári play the financially-strapped middle-aged couple in the countryside whose outlook on life, family, and the future is turned upside down when the husband purchases a winning lottery ticket. Prolific playwright György Spiró’s take on this situation can seem a trifle overwrought and implausible; however, the intriguingly two-dimensional set complements that well by transporting the piece to an altered reality. On the other hand, the actors’ physicality is not consistent enough to sustain the striking visual joke, and Oszkár Nyári dips too frequently into sentimentality.
Játékszín (Play Stage)
Menopauza [Menopause] The actresses have the audience in stitches during this light piece about four mature women who meet and bond during a shopping spree at Bloomingdale’s, where scenes of broad comedy are interspersed with parodies of universally recognized songs. Judit Hernádi and Andrea Szulák bring the star power, and Erika Náray has a great singing voice. Yet, why did they keep those outdated stereotypes, not to mention the set-up, which does not reflect lives of most modern Hungarian women?
József Attila Színház (Attila József Theater)
Sóska, sültkrumpli [Sorrel with Chips] This particular performance ran for around a decade at the now defunct Budapest Studio Theatre before migrating to the József Attila Színház venue. Its central concept, a play about a soccer match seen through the eyes of the referees, is quite clever. The result is a light and amusing show, and though it may seem a bit routine, Zoltán Karácsonyi and Károly Nemcsák embody their characters as easily as well-worn jerseys. (studio space)
Jurányi Inkubátorház (Jurányi Incubator House)
A csemegepultos naplója [Deli Counter Diaries] The novel by Márton Gerlóczy receives a sterling stage adaptation courtesy of dramaturge Ildikó Lőkös, razor-sharp direction by Pál Göttinger, and a spirited performance by András Ötvös. At 80 minutes, it does not strain one’s patience, and even if you don’t understand much of the text, Mr. Ötvös’s presence is riveting.
A pitbull cselekedetei [Acts of the Pit Bull] The play itself by Péter Kárpáti is something of a metaphysical adventure, which begins with a modest Budapest couple’s moral dilemma, then breaks the fourth wall, before bending the laws of time and space. The production is remarkable for its top-notch cast: Angela Stefanovics, Zola Szabó, Natasa Stork, Zsuzsa Lőrincz, and the appropriately superhuman Zsolt Nagy.
Egyasszony [One Woman] It is difficult to recommend monodramas, since understanding the language is so crucial to comprehension. Nevertheless, this could well be the best monodrama now in Budapest. Réka Tenki gives a touchingly direct performance as the clueless young mother of an autistic child, dealing with the hideous pressures heaped upon her in addition to a bad marriage, before she decides to take control of her life. Through the magic of theatre, she becomes a woman before our very eyes.
Hurok [Strings] István Kerekgyartó lifts the structure of Schnitzler’s classic play La Ronde in order to explore political corruption and emotional manipulation in modern-day Hungary. Still, his uneven handling of the figures raises troubling questions about the overall message and morality of the piece. There are plenty of good actors here, but practically no worthwhile characters to inhabit.
Mi és ők [We and Them] This brief 60-minute two-character piece by Carly Wijs dramatizes the Beslan school siege of 2014, as seen through the eyes of its two child protagonists. Balázs Benő Fehér stages the work in a space reminiscent of a school gymnasium, using a modern minimalist style that packs a real punch. The performers acquit themselves well, even though Benett Villmány (an appealing young actor at the Radnóti) strains for pathos at the end, when the tone of the script is bitterly cynical.
Sociopoly Don’t let language fears stop you from playing this interactive board game, acting as a member of one of four families trying to live out one month in the poorest county of Hungary. The situations are clear. Take a back seat and enjoy this one-of-a-kind, eye-opening experience. English version also available. A must-try!
Karinthy Színház (Karinthy Theater)
Theatre at the Karinthy is definitely a retro experience. The venue is small, and it can get crowded when the numerous grumpy pensioners jostle for positions in the coat check line. The décor and buffet whisk one back to pre-Capitalist days. The auditorium is charming, but may be due for renovations soon.
Az ördög [The Devil] The painter János is in love with his best friend’s wife, but to melt her cold, cold ice, he is going to need the help of the devil. Ferenc Molnár’s comedies often have dramatic moments (see The Glass Slipper and The Guardsman), but this play, his first international success, has plenty of purple passages. It is staged on a set that suggests lavish lifestyles, but the effect is strikingly fake. Much more attention went into the costumes, which are pretty, but why they did not put the devil in a tuxedo for the second act (when it was mentioned specifically in act one) I will never know. Thankfully, Tamás Földes is good in the loquacious title role. The romantic leads are much less charismatic.
Bunbury [The Importance of Being Ernest] This staging of Oscar Wilde’s classic is strictly by-the-book, ignoring the gay subtext of the original. Still, most of the humor seems to fly over the Hungarian audience’s heads. The costumes are attractive, as are the actors, particularly Zalán Makranczi as John Worthing and Ildikó Tornyi as Gwendolen Fairfax.
Klotild néni [Aunt Klotild] Gábor Vaszary’s three-act farce is a classic example of cabaret theatre, but by English standards, it qualifies as an old chestnut. For this musty humor to appeal to you, you must have a decidedly old-fashioned funny bone.
Katona József Színház (József Katona Theater)
A bajnok [The Champion] Whether or not you are aware of the sex scandal upon which it was based, this Béla Pintér work is a fascinating and effective adaptation of Puccini’s one-act opera Il tabarro, with the political elite of a small Hungarian town standing in for the dock workers of the original. A daring and mostly stellar cast sings its way through the updated libretto about politics, sexuality, and parental responsibility.
A fehér szalag [The White Ribbon] Accomplished dramaturge and actress Éva Enyedi was inspired to bring Michael Haneke’s 2009 black-and-white film to the stage, but it plays like an effort in futility. Despite the stark color palette, she is unable to achieve the atmospheric effect of the cinematography, and the medium of theatre does not allow the sort of subtle characterization one can achieve in film. With practically all the actors at least double cast (most playing an adult and a child), figuring out the relationships, let alone the plot, is an ordeal. I think I know what happened, kinda, but how should I feel about it?
Ascher Tamás Háromszéken [Tamás Ascher in Háromszék] Béla Pintér's new piece at the Katona works on a variety of levels. In part, it is a riposte to those who criticized his handling of public individuals' private lives in A bajnok. Now he returns with a parody of himself, director Tamás Ascher, actor Zoltán Bezerédi, and the theatre's manager Gábor Máté. It is a brilliant evening of comedy and drama with a great cast and splendid music by Csaba Ökrös (now sadly departed), but with so many themes – meta-theatre, Chekhov adaptations (Three Sisters and, if you are paying attention, The Seagull), backstage drama, folk song paraphrases, alcoholism, sexual harassment, reproductive rights, male irresponsibility, irredentism, and urban snobbism – there is far too much to unpack adequately. Plus, foreigners will have a hard time appreciating the in-jokes and the song lyrics.
Nóra – karácsony Helmeréknél [Nora – Christmas at the Helmers] Kriszta Székely’s direction of Ibsen’s A Doll’s House is faithful to the spirit of the original, and with such talented actors, there are moments that resonate like never before. Ultimately, though, all the modernization threatens to render the original shock ending meaningless. Neither we nor the producers are really sure if Nora ever flees the gilded cage.
Széljegy [Marginal Note] Prolific playwright György Spiró's new piece about sharks and marks on the real estate market plays like a verbose one-act, staged on a cool lozenge-shaped set with seating on both sides and delivered at top speed by the excellent cast. The dialogue is sparkling, but one hour is still a long time to watch a naive victim (Andrea Fullajtár) and her overbearing mother (Kati Takács) walk unsuspectingly into an obvious trap. Also, we do not receive much insight into the villains' motivations, neither those of the low-life swindler (Barna Bányai-Kelemen) nor the lawyer (Judit Rezes) who is capable of cruelly betraying her former friend. (studio space)
Ürgék [Blokes] Mostly made up of Hungarian men’s stories from 1956 to the present, this production (assembled by Réka Pelsőczy and Tamara Török) offers little insight. The older generation is represented by László Szacsvay, János Bán, and Dénes Ujlaki (the latter’s delivery becoming somewhat predictable by the end). The younger generation, which feels less comfortable in the masculine roles they have inherited, is embodied by Bence Tasnádi and Zsolt Dér. The tales are mostly superficial and materialistic. Male roles, in general, are never questioned or challenged. Rather, the older generation offers a lesson in calmly accepting the status quo. Anna Pálmai and Hanna Pálos are on hand to add decoration and contrast. After all, there are no men without women. (studio space)
MU Színház (MU Theater)
Délibab [Mirage] In an interview prior to the debut, choreographer Adrienn Hod claimed that the performance was about her conflicting attitudes about being Hungarian, but most of the time, she seems to be taking the piss out of her super-serious legion of home-grown fans. How long can they bear to watch the absurd goings-on without laughing? For the interminable first hours or so, the six dancers evolve along their individual journeys through movement and vocalization. Then, there is a series of partially nude dances to Bartók’s “Songs for Children”, which challenges our preconceptions of gender-based behavior. New talents are also showcased. Good show, Hodworks Company!
Hűség [Loyalty] The k2 Company’s bare-bones stage adaptation of Death is My Trade by Robert Merle recreates the life of Rudolf Lang (practically a stand-in for Rudolf Hess) with three actors in the round and basically no set. Zsolt Domokos, in a concentrated performance, provides a convincing portrait of “the banality of evil” (originally said of Eichmann). Still, what saves this material from being a dry history lesson is the burst of much-needed passion and humanity near the end, supplied by Anna Boros.
Nemzeti Színház (National Theater)
Az ember tragédiája [The Tragedy of Man] If you are tempted to see this juggernaut of Hungarian literature, keep in mind that it is four hours and staged in the round. The best seats are onstage, alongside of the acting area. Director Vidnyánszky, Sr. is not only determined to give us a believer’s “family-focused” take on the sprawling classic, but also to extend his experimentation in immersive theatre – suspending the conventions of time, space, and now character. Previous outings in this format have proven difficult to hear, so important lines are shouted four times by different actors. Expelled from the Garden of Eden, Adam follows Lucifer (played by five actors) through various eras in Mankind’s history and beyond. Sándor Berettyán plays most of Adam’s incarnations, but endows them with very little personality. Eszter Ács has a lighter load and is more than capable of playing all the Eves. Auguszta Tóth and Mari Nagy harness the most stage presence, while Ádám Schnell and Tibor Fehér swish it up (at least on the night I saw it). The resulting spectacle is worth a look, but ill suited to bring out the emotional and philosophical complexities of the work.
Buborékok [Bubbles] This long-neglected comedy (written by Gergely Csiky in 1884) was last revived at the National in 2004, only to prove surprisingly popular with audiences (perhaps due to the star power of its cast). Still, I will not be seeing the current revival directed by Vidnyánszky, Sr., since I despise this paternalistic play, which teaches us that if a man does not take control of his household (by physical means, if necessary), he will be driven to ruin by his wife and foolish daughters.
Csíksomlyói passió [Passion of Christ from Csíksomlyó] The 18th-century Hungarian re-interpretation of the Biblical story seems made for the National, but then there is a confusing clash of styles. Director Attila Vidnyánszky erects an alternate seating area to bring the spectators closer to the action. A live ensemble transports us to a small village square where the Passion of Christ will be performed. Then, the loud canned music and bombastic special effects begin, together with repetitive stage gestures that make it seem like a three-hour movie trailer. Nándor Berettyán brings a peculiar cluelessness to the role of the Messiah, as though the other villagers pushed him onto the scene as a last-minute substitute. Meanwhile, narrator and raconteur András Berecz strives mightily to bridge the gap between the professional actors and the folk dancers who embody the villagers and the vox populi, but this is a production divided against itself.
Vitéz lélek [Valiant Spirit] One of Áron Tamási’s lesser-known plays, it receives a lavish production here with well-conceived set and lighting designs. Typical of the author, it mixes pastoral realism and fairy-tale, but the construction is somewhat lopsided. Actor Lajos Ottó Horváth must single-handedly bear enough tragedy for two plays (or one Calderón drama) in the last act, but he does so admirably. At the end, a hymn resounds, as though we are inside a large organ, no doubt to underscore the roots of Hungarian Catholicism in rural Transylvania.
Örkény István Színház (István Örkény Theater)
A hattyú [The Swan] The set suggests decadence; the costumes some unintelligible tradition which the characters feel compelled to follow or subvert. While Csaba Polgár’s production makes some good dramaturgical choices, all the pregnant pauses and added musical numbers run the risk of inflating Ferenc Molnár’s soap bubble of a humanist comedy too far, and the final tableau puts the bitter in bittersweet. All things considered, though, this is a fine introduction to Molnár’s comic genius. The cast is uniformly great.
Anyám tyúkja (1.) [Mother’s Hen, Part 1] Not recommended for beginning language students, but if you are studying Hungarian poetry, there is no better introduction than the Örkény actors’ interpretations of these compulsory poems, staged as though delivered by serious and passionate Communist-era schoolteachers who gather outside a traditional peasant house. It is especially moving for those who grew up with these poems, who feel as if they are hearing them for the first time. As in several other Örkény productions, the incidental music provided by Árpád Kákonyi is icing on the cake.
Anyám tyúkja (2.) [Mother’s Hen, Part 2] With the second installment of their poetry program, director Pál Mácsai broadens the net, selecting a wider range of poems that are lesser known and cover more adult themes. The journey is deeper, but thematically arranged as the poems deal with questions of identity, existence, family life, and even sexuality. Nearly every performer, seasoned veterans and talented newcomers alike, has a shining moment.
Azt meséld el, Pista [Tell That One, Stevie] For his one-man-show, Pál Mácsai embodies the theatre’s namesake, István Örkény, and simply recounts tales from the talented author’s life. No, it is not a three-act drama, but it delivers precisely what it promises.
Az ügynök halála [Death of a Salesman] True to their style, the Örkény stages Miller’s classic in a stripped-down, minimal fashion – meant to bring out the beauty of the text and not necessarily arouse our emotions. When Willy’s wife claims at the end, “I cannot cry,” we are supposed to share her sentiment.
Az üvegbúra [The Bell Jar] Director Kristóf Widder brings Sylvia Plath’s cult novel to the stage intelligently on a hot set by Eszter Kálmán and with effective piano music by Árpád Kákonyi. (The sounds of the telephone are palpably threatening.) Bold movement theatre-inspired staging brightens up what is essentially a 90-minute monodrama featuring two assistants. Emőke Zsigmond commits fully to her role as Esther Greenwood, and Tünde Kókai slips in and out of multiple female characters with understated grace. Béla Dóra’s characterizations need more variety. I found him too comic as Esther’s fiancé Buddy, but that may simply be the director’s interpretation. Also not quite measuring up are Richárd Kehi’s lighting effects, which are only intermittently inspired. Young dramaturge Sára Gábor should also pay attention that if Esther’s loss of virginity is too positive (and not comic-grotesque, as it was in the novel), it sends the message that lack of “normal” hetero sex leads to lesbianism, madness, and suicide. Overall, a good show! (studio space)
Diggerdrájver [Digger Driver] Pulled from an actual blog, the modern-day experiences of a blue-collar worker who leaves Hungary with his second wife and son for the promise of a better life in London could not be more topical. The nearly two hours of material is delivered in a monologue with disarming credibility by the talented actor Attila Epres. Foreigners may be puzzled, though, by the morose mood at the end. From our point of view, this is a success story. What is there to cry about? (studio space)
Édes Anna [Sweet Anna] Dezső Kosztolányi’s slim, splendid 1926 novel about an enigmatic, long-suffering, and ultimately homicidal serving maid seems perfect for a creative stage adaptation, but director Zita Szenteczki and dramaturge Bence Biró trot out all the dull and tired modern techniques. The result is not illuminating in the slightest, and none of the talented actors manage to capture what was so fascinating about these characters on the page. Best to read the book, which is available in English translation. (studio space)
Kertész utcai Shax mosó [Shax Car Wash on Kertész Street] You may be shocked by this irreverent, profane, high-octane adaptation of Romeo and Juliet. The single intermission occurs after an extended karaoke sequence at Capulet’s ball – only one act into the original – and we have already been treated to several visual gags (like a slow-mo recreation of a car exploding) and full-frontal male nudity. Believe it or not, this is one of director Viktor Bodó’s most audience friendly outings. The ostentatious drug use may seem excessive, but there is nothing here that contradicts the spirit of the original. Several cast members shine as the modern reincarnations of these characters – Ester Csakányi (Nurse), Csaba Polgár (Mercutio), Pál Mácsai (Friar Lawrence), and Gabriella Hámori (Lady Capulet) spring to mind. I also found Tünde Kókai appealingly ingenuous as Juliet; however, Márton Patkós should stop overacting as Romeo. It really brings down the concluding scenes.
Lót – Szodomában kövérebb a fű [Lot; or, The Grass is Greener in Sodom] The unexpected death of author János Térey, at age 48 in 2019, is especially poignant when watching this unfinished work. What could he have accomplished with a couple more drafts? What could he have accomplished with a couple more years? Nonetheless, despite some very capable direction by Balázs Koválik and an impressive set by Csaba Antal, this retelling of the Biblical tale is not quite stage-worthy. Also, despite passionate performances by Éva Kerekes and Natasa Stork, the female characters’ motivations do not ring true.
Macbeth The framing device for this take on the Scottish Play is a museum exhibit of a crown, before the four security guards/tour guides begin re-enacting the events of the play. The highlight for me was the banquet scene, held in the lobby of the space, where we were treated to water and pogácsa (little savory biscuits) while Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth sang a popular number from the operetta Queen of the Csardás. Still, for native English speakers, this version will not add much to your appreciation of the original. (studio space)
Pedig én jó anya voltam [But I Was a Good Mother] A dual homicide in 1979 provides the basis for this monodrama, adapted from István Vajda’s interview with the mother of the murderer, the last criminal to receive the death penalty in Hungary. Judit Pogány gives one of the most shattering performances in the city, if your nerves and language skills are up to the challenge. We begin with a portrait of an utterly ordinary woman and hear her sorrowful tale, before a perception shift at the end pulls the emotional rug out from under us. (studio space)
Tótek [The Toth Family] This adaptation of Örkény’s novel is far different from the classic play adaptation. The producers seem determined to show us all the material that we would have missed if we only watched the play. This means Modern Direction 101, with plenty of face-forward and direct address to the audience. Despite the innovative staging, the result is singularly un-dramatic. Highpoints are provided by the World War Two-era songs that punctuate the storyline. Still, we might as well read the novel at home, or watch the movie Isten hozta, őrnagy úr with Zoltán Latinovics.
Pesti Színház (Pesti Theater)
A Nyugat császára [Playboy of the Western World] Director and newly-appointed theatre head Péter Rudolf scores a directorial success with this classic Irish play. He misses some of the humor, he could certainly do more with the Widow Quin character, but he works wonders with Attila Vidnyánszky, Jr., who appears positively waifish in the lead role as Christy. The set is realistic and effective, although I cannot say the same for the fake facial hair. Ákos Kőszegi plays Mahon (the father figure presumed dead) with startling immediacy. Andrea Waskovics needs to work on her projection, so she can be heard as the love interest Pegeen. The play really takes off in Act Three, with a dynamite fight sequence.
II. Richárd [Richard II] With a line-up evidently meant to show off the company’s young talent, world-class Transylvanian director Gábor Tompa takes on Shakespeare’s challenging history play, adding a brief interlude to introduce three figures at the beginning – which makes emotional sense, sort of, but does little to illuminate the complicated political intrigues. On the plus side, Miklós H. Vecsei is well-cast as the irresponsible monarch. He is not as flamboyant as he could be, but he is flashy and definitely understands the self-indulgent histrionics of the role. The costumes are less inspired for the king’s favorites (Bagot, Green, and Bushy), who come across as nondescript, as does Attila Vidnyánszky, Jr. in the key role of Bolingboroke (soon to be Henry IV). I struggle to remember his performance. The famous garden scene was replaced by a drug-inspired vision among the queen and her decadent ladies-in-waiting. The result is visually arresting, but less than coherent.
Toldi This production must be a godsend for Hungarian students, who are required to read János Arany’s epic heroic poem. Here Gábor Csőre recounts it all in a winning and entertaining fashion. Despite his abundant charm, however, the language remains unyieldingly old-fashioned and poetic – hence, very difficult to understand.
Radnóti Színház (Radnóti Theater)
10 Both thematically and structurally reminiscent of Krzystof Kieślowski’s Dekalog, Csaba Székely’s new play is structured around the interlocking tales of ten residents at the Hope Housing Estate, each of whom represents one of the Ten Commandments that they break. Who are these characters? A saintly young man with intellectual disabilities, a man with body dysmorphic disorder, an incest survivor-turned-prostitute (the only character identified as Roma), a workaholic female head doctor, a soldier in Afghanistan with abandonment issues, and a bored trophy wife, among others. The writing can be heavy-handed, and some actors fall into the trap of overacting. Others have moments of brilliance. Yet, the duration is well over three hours, and the last hour is spent tying up plot threads. A recurring theme is emotional blindness, most obvious in the case of a narcissistic paintress who can see others’ auras, but is insensitive to their pain. Blocks of assisted storytelling are separated by interludes wherein the cast sings the Biblical text in a dead language. This is most powerful when the music sounds like modern gospel. Transylvanian director Aba Sebestyén uses plenty of face-forward and two hand-held cameras to provide (occasionally effective) live visual effects, but this technique already seems old hat.
RS9 Színház (RS9 Theater)
Budapest’s nitty-gritty home for fringe and independent theatre is right in the center of town, either in the basement space (with accompanying bar) at 9 Rumbach Sebestyén Street or in the Vállai Kert space (named after the late actor Péter Vállai) just across the road.
Bankhitel [Bank Credit] Imre Baksa had success with this two-character piece before. Now he teams up with Sándor Tűzkő to enact Jordi Galceran’s lightweight take on capitalism, loans, and infidelity. I am curious if they will make use of the same animated clips, which so effectively hinted at the play’s larger themes.
De mi lett a nővel? [But What Became of the Woman?] Much in the style of Complete Works of Shakespeare (Abridged), three Hungarian actors romp their way through nine related short stories by Chekhov. Their spirit is infectious, and they capture the master’s bizarre humor, often balanced on the razor’s edge of tragedy. Initially, they explore characters too self-centered to recognize other people’s pain, before evoking the legendary actress referred to in the title, an elusive and ultimately unattainable object of desire.
Egy doktorkisasszony napójegyzetei [A Young Woman Doctor’s Diary Entries] I am revising my original review of this production, because it has matured well. The base material by Milán Füst is brilliant with infinitely complicated human relations that practically defy the limits of the theatrical medium. The actors take risks, throwing themselves wholeheartedly into the World War I milieu. Still, the final impression can be baffling. Take some Hungarian friends and argue far into the night about what you have seen.
Egy perccel tovább [One Minute More] Gábor Jászberényi and Zsófia Kondákor play out variations on the emotional life of a couple, but despite their commitment, it is a 75-minute trip to nowhere.
Tizenegyes kórterem [Hospital Room 11] A very promising play written by newcomer Tamás Tóth tackles the familiar trope of the mental patient who has an enlightening and potentially dangerous effect on his fellow inmates. Seemingly set in modern times and in a French asylum, the show benefits from committed performances by László Kassai (as the head psychiatrist) and Gábor Jaszberényi (as the young man who believes he is St. Martin).
Többszörös orgazmus [Multiple Orgasms] In this long-standing crowd-pleaser by the Anarchista Company, director Ferenc Sebő, Jr. takes an instructional guidebook to the world of sexual swingers and develops a series of wild sketches with his fine ensemble of very game actors. You may not approve of the lifestyle on display or buy into the swinger philosophy, but you are guaranteed some hearty belly laughs.
Trip In this play, written and directed by Imre Baksa, two heterosexual couples engage in lies, infidelity, and drug use, unaware how close they are to emotional hell. The production blends comedy, tragedy, and absurdity, as well as effective live vocalization (music courtesy of Zoltán Friedenthal) and trips into an alternate fairy-tale reality. Despite some troublingly negative female tropes, the experience is stunningly one-of-a-kind, and the cast is incredibly game.
Végkép [Parting Shot] A divorced couple reunites after 10 years to arrange the sale of their jointly-owned property and are surprised to meet each other’s new lover. Director Rita Csáki adapted the show from a German movie, which we can feel. At times, it is a very intimate theatre experience, but there is a lack of focus and tension. Overall, the actresses prove better than the actors at fleshing out their roles.
Woyzeck The Anyaszínház Company makes some bold moves with Büchner’s chilling, disturbing, unfinished classic, and part of the thrill is watching how many of their gambles pay off. The eye-popping direction makes up for some of the flat acting.
Stúdió K (Studio K)
A rettentő görög hős [The Fearsome Greek Hero] Stúdió K has a long tradition of brilliant puppet shows for children, and this rendering of the exploits of Theseus is certainly one of them. It is a great introduction to these tales from Greek mythology, and young theatergoers relish the scenes of stylized violence.
Szkéné Színház (Szkéné Theater)
I. Erzsébet [Elizabeth I] Modern English playwright Paul Foster revisits the history books and gives us a burlesque-style romp, providing some delightful off-the-wall sketches, but also some troubling stereotypes and a heavy-handed conclusion (warning us of the evils and potential resurgence of Fascism). Although he was acclaimed for his lead role in drag, I found Tamás Fodor’s performance overrated. Far more entertaining were Péter Bercsényi (as Mary Queen of Scots) and Gergő Kaszás (as Catherine de Medici).
42. hét [42nd Week] When widow and obstetrician Dr. Imola Virágvári (Eszter Csakányi) falls for TV star László Vargyas (Szabolcs Thuróczy), she embarks on a second adolescence, but beware the cruel hand of fate! The piece is a perfect example of Pintér’s modern Hungarian magic realism and perhaps his most fully-developed storyline. Highly recommended!
A nagy füzet [The Notebook] Deploying a bizarre mix of elements – offbeat casting, dance, and strange use of food as props – this adaptation of Ágota Kristóf’s bleak World War II novel is remarkably stimulating with a hypnotic final tableau. Just be familiar with the story beforehand. The actors deliver chunks of prose at top speed.
A sütemények királynője [The Queen of Cakes] Mostly one concentrated scene of domestic misery. Béla Pintér tackles the topic of child neglect and abuse like no other Hungarian playwright, also turning in a brave performance as the tyrannical father. The cast is solid, and the effect is brutal, although the ending is too rushed.
Anyám orra [My Mother’s Nose] Like some of Béla Pintér’s pieces, this exploration of moral insanity is arguably a trip to nowhere. Still, it is a thrilling and imaginative ride, and the final tableau is a knock-out. Undeniably memorable.
Bányavakság [Mine Blindness] The second (and most satisfying) installment of Csaba Székely’s trilogy about modern life for Hungarians in Transylvania focuses on politics, scandal, and blackmail, topped off with a dollop of ethnic tension and violence. The misery may seem a bit overdone by the end, but Gergő Kaszás is spectacular in the lead role.
Bányavíz [Mine Water] The final installment of Csaba Székely’s trilogy about modern life for Hungarians in Transylvania is the least successful of the three. While the portrayal of trapped lives is heartfelt (and Andrea Bozó is particularly good as the dotty older sister), the core relationship between the priest and his adopted son is not credible.
Caligula helytartója [Caligula’s Deputy] Transylvanian playwright János Székely’s drama (set in Ancient Roman times, but with parallels to despotic Communist rule) is a modern classic. It receives a fine production here with thoughtful (and by no means boring) direction by Rémusz Szikszai and a fine turn by Gábor Nagypál in the title role.
Parasztopera [Peasant Opera] Béla Pintér’s classic theatrical confection blends folk dancing and music with baroque recitatives to serve up an opera plot set in the isolated Hungarian countryside complete with murder, infidelity, and incest. It all culminates with a fateful retribution which inspires both pity and fear. With this production, Pintér perfected the comic dissonance of characters singing Hungaricums like “The chief railway officer is drunk as a pig!” or improbabilities like “I was attending a Lutheran conference in Minnesota” to classical-sounding airs. The show is imaginative and brilliant. A must-see!
Titkaink [Our Secrets] This bomb devised by Béla Pintér exploded in 2014, and it has left audiences shaken ever since. As an intelligent exposé of Communist-era informers, the dance house movement, and pedophilia, it is simply unbeaten at straining viewers’ nerves to the breaking point. Plus brilliant gender-bending performances by Eszter Csakányi and Angéla Stefanovics. Highly recommended!
Tesla Teátrum (Tesla Theater)
Located along a picturesque stretch of one of Budapest’s throbbing party streets (that is, when we are not in lock-down). The Tesla now functions as the more experimental studio wing of Radnóti Theatre.
Gina This fresh work penned by film director Mihály Schwechtje pulls no punches, and unlike many new plays, its milieu is startlingly up-to-date. Gina refers to a date-rape drug administered to an under-aged girl at a party attended by the championship water polo team of a small town, which is due to receive a large government subsidy to build a sports facility. What unfolds is not sad because it is awful, but because it is so damn plausible. Social media is instantly in an uproar. The coach of the water polo team has enough clout to intimidate the senior female investigator assigned to the case. The parents of a boy accused of wrongdoing turn on one another, each blaming the other’s parenting style for what their son might have done. In the midst of this, there is the victim, who simply wants to know what happened to her during the time she blacked out. This is an auspicious play, but unfortunately, the playwright directed it himself, where an experienced theatre artist could have done better. At one point or another, he has certain characters go through an exaggerated emotional upheaval onstage, which pushes these dramatic moments toward ironic or unintended comedy. On the whole, the cast is strong; however, Orsolya Török-Illyés, best known for her film work, visibly lacks stage technique. That is a shame, since she taps into deep emotion quite naturally.
A vágy [Desire] While not as scabrous as some of Franz Xaver Kroetz’s works, staging this piece definitely demonstrates the daring of the Radnóti company. When a gardener takes in his wife’s nephew (just released from prison on account of a sex crime), the young man assures him he is harmless due to the libido-suppressing drug he must take; however, just the presence of this blank-slate Adonis turns the homeowner’s world upside down. While I do not find anything revolutionary in the material (which plays out like a middle-aged man’s insecurities before becoming wish fulfillment), the author can certainly make the audience squirm by throwing light on ordinary people’s intimate deeds. The cast is fearless (especially Zoltán Schneider and Adél Kováts as the older couple), Róbert Alföldi directs sex scenes like no one else, and I liked the details in the quasi-realistic set by Eszter Kálmán.
Trafó House of Contemporary Arts
Kálvária lakópark [Calvary Housing Estate] To be honest, I do not completely understand Rozi Székely's first staged work. Still, it has a unique way of see-sawing between naturalism and absurdity, and it shows plenty of promise. When the heroine (Niké Kurta) inherits an apartment from her estranged father, who died under odd circumstances, she welcomes it as a chance for freedom, but then her mother (Júlia Nyakó) plans to invade the flat with her enigmatic lover (Kálmán Varju). The humor is off-beat, and the best at delivering it is the playwright herself, who appears briefly in the first scene. Overall, Kálmán Varju inhabits most seamlessly this uncannily funny, disturbing, and memorable world.
Pirkad [Dawn] Two completely nude male-female couples perform Adrienn Hód’s roughly 50 minutes of choreography, building to a shuddering climax before lapsing into catatonic calm. A must-see for fans of modern dance, but absolutely inappropriate for a fist date.
Otthon [At Home] The Dollar Company’s modern adaptation of Strindberg’s rarely-staged family drama The Pelican fearlessly mines the deeper currents of this disturbing work. The four actors perform in a dance rehearsal room with seating on three sides, while the mirrored fourth wall pitilessly exposes all of their tics and gestures. Instead of being mere evil villains, director Tamás Ördög and Krisztina Urbanovits leaves subtle clues as to what motivates their monstrous behavior. My one small complaint is that Emőke Kiss-Végh seemed too strong and self-aware as the daughter. It is hard to imagine her being a passive victim.
Turay Ida Színház (Ida Turay Theater)
A medve nem játék! [Bears Are No Game!] Perhaps the only reason to see this show is if you wish to understand the góbé stereotype of the Székely ethnic group (Hungarian speakers living in the most eastern region of Transylvania). It also represents a throw-back to folk theatre traditions, but as Csaba Székely’s modern dramas assure us, this is nostalgia for a way of life that has passed or never existed at all. Despite the off-color nature of the sketches, the spirit of this show is staunchly conservative. Traditional folk costumes are preserved along with old-fashioned gender roles – laconic men drink in the kocsma, and the suffering wives toil all day long. Even the Playboy that one character reads is outdated. There is a smattering of song and dance, and Ádám Boros is a clever dancer and narrator. (His delivery, reminiscent of stand-up comedy, owes plenty to raconteur András Berecz.) Still, these strained and hackneyed gags mostly serve to reinforce the prejudices of the relatively older audience.
Újszínház (New Theater)
A bolondok grófja [The Count of Fools] Based on a tale by Romantic writer Mór Jokai, a man seeks to regain his ancestral estate, only to find it has been repurposed as an insane asylum. Can he assert his authority over them as their assumed lord, and what of the comely lass who never speaks, but only sings touching folk songs? This all packaged as a comedy, and the acting talent ranges from competent to community-theatre amateur. Overall, it plays like children’s theatre for adults, and it is tedious at times.
Bizánc [Byzantium] The Fall of Constantinople (conquered on May 29, 1453, by Sultan Mehmed and his Ottoman army) is the setting of Ferenc Herczeg’s classical play, but director Viktor Nagy has mixed success in his attempts to make it topical. The actors deliver the long flowery speeches with appropriate passion, but they fall short of resurrecting the epic, romantic style. The best reason to see Bizánc would be out of academic interest.
UP Újpesti Rendezvénytér (Events Building of Újpest)
Take Metro 3 (if it is running) to the end of the line in Újpest. Tucked behind the ornamental town hall and across the small square is this very modern-looking meeting facility – the new venue of choice for Béla Pintér and Company since they decamped from the Átrium.
Anyaszemefénye [The Glimmer in Mom’s Eye] For their first production at this new venue, Béla Pintér’s fine ensemble of actors (plus Adél Jordán and Ernő Fekete from the Katona) sing all the dialogue over a pastiche of familiar classical musical, once again brilliantly accompanied by Antal Kéménczy on the piano. There are laughs and surprises, as well as some horrifying twists on this emotional roller-coaster that covers themes of fame, adultery, drug addiction, and the plight of children. Perhaps best viewed as an infernal, 80-minute, anti-drug public service campaign, the piece definitely leaves the audience wondering, “How much of this was ironic, and how much was sincere?”
Vérvörös Törtfehér Méregzöld [Blood Red, Broken White, and Toxic Green] You may experience this Béla Pintér piece as a sci-fi extrapolation of our current pandemic crisis, or as a distorted reflection of racial tensions in Hungary; still, fundamentally, it is a strict adaptation of Sophocles’ Oedipus Rex. His insight into the Ancient Greek tragedy is sharp and revealing, but as a parody of existing racist trends, the work is less effective. Given the lack of a strong moral compass, it could seem as though Pintér is encouraging the audience’s prejudices, and his use of a flamboyant gay character (in place of the blind prophet Tiresias) as a broad target for comedy is also upsetting.
Vígszínház (Comedy Theater)
A diktátor [The Dictator] Adapting Charlie Chaplin’s classic film may seem like a foolhardy undertaking, but for most of the first half, Enikő Eszenyi gets it right. The First World War portion is dynamite with a fantastic flying plane sequence. Nonetheless, despite several good performances (by József Wunderlich, Csenge Szilágyi, Dániel Király, and Szonja Rudolf), the second half loses steam with too many gags that do not translate well to the stage. Instead of making a point with the conclusion, the production leaves us hanging with no resolution, Central European-style.
A léggömb elrepül [The Balloon Flies Away] Promising a carefree bill of prose, poetry, and songs by beloved early 20th-century writer Dezső Kosztolányi, this one-man-show does not disappoint us. It may take a strong command of Hungarian to understand the text, but as Béla Festbaum sings and narrates his way through the material, you know you are in the hands of a pro. A thoroughly charming event! (studio space)
A Pál utcai fiúk [The Paul Street Boys] It is hard to get tickets for the 2016 musical adaptation of Ferenc Molnár’s classic children’s novel, which is a lighthearted take on a two rival gangs and their battle for possession of a splendid lot, and no wonder! The cast is spirited, the direction is sharp, and the music is catchy without being disturbingly thin (which is the case for most modern musicals). The climactic stand-off is staged very symbolically before the tear-jerking finish: the martyrdom of Ernest Nemecsek for what proves to be a meaningless cause. Depressing allegory? Perhaps, but integral to the Hungarian psyche.
A vándorkutya [Wander Dog] Hovering on a scale of absurdity somewhere between The Bald Soprano and Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, this high-concept outing by Andrea Pass does not delve too deeply into character. Rather, it flirts with Hitchcock tropes to dissect relationships that are outwardly happy, but inwardly miserable. Judit Halász is strong as the senile mother, while Renáta Tar and Zoltán Karácsonyi are delightfully over-the-top. (studio space)
Az öreg hölgy látogatás [The Visit] Dürrenmatt’s modern classic is revived repeatedly on Hungarian stages, but this version (Péter Rudolf’s first direction on the main stage since assuming control over the Vígszínház) fails to impress. There are some fine irreverent moments. I enjoyed when the billionaire widow Claire Zachanassian returned to the small town that previously exiled her with a retinue of scantily clad leather bears. It was a Lady Gaga moment, forcing the provincial folk to disguise their shock and horror, while fawning over the former pariah for the sake of her money. Barbra Hegyi holds her own in the lead role, and Géza D. Hegedűs provides a nice air of good-natured fatalism as the man Claire has order the town to kill. On the other hand, the ensemble cast is colorless, and when Mr. Rudolf has them pose across the stage as trees to create the forest scene, the effect is somewhat pathetic. He needs more experience in the space in order to use the main stage effectively.
Játék a kastélyban [The Play’s the Thing] This classic meta-theatre exercise by Ferenc Molnár is a gem, but by all means, avoid the current production in which the uneven cast tends to fumble the comedy. The leading role of Turai, the mastermind playwright, can be a tour de force for an actor, but Miklós Benedek mostly mumbles his way through it.
See you at the theaters - when they re-open!
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