Gerhard Polt and the Well brothers have spun the hereditary comedy “A scheene Leich” with director Ruedi Häusermann.
Now they celebrated their acclaimed premiere in the Munich Kammerspiele.
Our theater review.
Even the old Schweinsbraten number still works.
The premiere audience on Saturday evening in the Munich Kammerspiele squeaked with laughter.
Although this time it's not a roast but a soup that Gerhard Polt is working his way through.
spoon by spoon.
Lonely funeral feast.
And a nice reminiscence of the stage beginnings of the 80-year-old.
Back then, in the seventies, when he stole the show from cabaret artist Jörg Hube in his solo program simply by sitting there chewing.
Roast pork cutting as a great comedy.
So simple, so brilliant.
And so timelessly funny.
The happy thing about the hereditary comedy “A scheene Leich”, which Polt and director Ruedi Häusermann spun, is that it still works, this mixture of miscounting anecdotes, brass, squeezing, plucked music, madness and serious echoes of social ills – there they all giggle in the sold-out house, the young and the old premiere guests, the normal people and the celebrities, yes, even the two Berliners, who keep saying "What did he say?" but despite the obvious language barrier ("Morning let's take a Bavarian course!") cannot escape the comedy of the situation and the fine reflection of the all-too-human.
When Stefan Merki (right) starts to talk about his everyday life in the role of a nursing home resident, it sometimes gets bitter.
© Maurice Kobel
Actually, it doesn't even need a written play.
When the blood brothers Karli, Michael and Stoffer Well get started with their heartfelt brother Polt, nobody misses the stage design, costumes or choreography.
Life itself always writes the best script for them. So it's lucky that Ruedi Häusermann put this comedy together in such a Charivari-like free jingling manner as he did the scenes (Hausermann/Christl Wein-Engel).
Partition walls with photo wallpaper transform the stage from an inn to a funeral parlor or a luxury apartment with a view of the lake by the actor's hand.
The latter was once the home of a funeral director, who also made rubbish with the “Senior Residence Sunbeam” – and immediately recruited future customers there (“Don’t shake the urn! There’s a customer in there!”).
A bittersweet philosophy about life, ailing and dying
This roughly sums up the starting point for a bittersweet philosophy about life, ailing and dying.
The Polt slips into the role of the new funeral home and retirement home manager.
It is no coincidence that both are located on the Schliersee.
The two Berliners in the audience also know about the horrible grievances that made headlines in the real old people's home there.
And like everyone else, their laughter gets stuck in their throats when another coffin is carried through the back of the stage.
And Polt asks dryly: "From Schliersee?"
Gerhard Polt in "A beautiful corpse".
© Maurice Hobel
Stefan Merki plays one of the poor rascals who were shunted off by relatives to the "Sonnenstrahl" (Polt: "Anyone who delivers their relatives to us can deliver their conscience at the same time.").
As soon as Merki rolls in in her wheelchair, the fun stops.
Because his stories, like the one with the giant diapers that hold more, are neither meant to be funny nor funny.
If savings are made on staff who can change Pampers, then as a home operator you have to get creative.
Because: "With a pension of 1845 euros, dignity is getting scarce."
Yes, sometimes they throw us back to what could be in store for us.
But they do so with so much gallows humor that any fear of dying is stifled by joie de vivre.
When the Well brothers play their gstanzl and sing ("Carpe diem,liebe Leut'!"), Polt sets his pointed pauses ("I'm a humanist ... from the old school") and with it everyone he satirizes, exposed;
and when the amateur choir performers join in this deliciously insidious funeral feast with the greatest joy of playing, everyone likes it.
"Thank you for the nice sound," said a beaming Polt to the cheering audience at the end.
This humor is immortal.
Next performances on January 30, 2023, on February 4, 5, 13, 16, 17, 27, 2023 (all sold out; remaining tickets are lucky) and on the 8th, 12th, 17th, 21st, March 29, 2023;
Telephone 089/ 233 966 00.