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A cold-blooded death dance of belligerent egos

Sommer 14 – A Dance Of Death by controversial German playwright Rolf Hochhuth offers theatre audiences a rare opportunity to see a play about WWI from a German perspective, says Tommo Fowler

TAKING inspiration from the medieval mystery plays, created to bring Bible stories to a largely illiterate population for their entertainment and education, Rolf Hochhuth uses Sommer 14 to illuminate the causes and events behind the outbreak of the most destructive war the world had ever seen.

British theatre is often more naturalistic — and some might say safe — than it is in Europe, so this really is a bold piece for the well-regarded Finborough Theatre to have programmed. The play is a series of vignettes, each with its own individual set of historical characters, woven together by musical narration and comment from Death.

The songs act as a lively and irreverent glue, holding together those main scenes which detail the political games of certain important figures — all of whom were in some way behind the horror of the war.

For a company whose main aim is to produce socially and politically relevant work that exists uniquely in the medium of theatre, there are few plays more perfect for Cerberus to be doing at the moment. It may seem ambitious to mount such an epic piece — the English-language premiere — in a small venue like the Finborough. 

The original script called for two giant, ever-present satellites rotating above the stage but the tiny space means that audiences are among the action as it unfolds, experiencing the events Hochhuth believes are key moments on the road to war.

The characters allow Hochhuth to make what is perhaps his main point — that fighting broke out not because of an unavoidable ideological dispute or threat to basic human freedom but because people, particularly those powerful men at the top, wanted a war to happen. 

The death toll which was caused by a few belligerent egos is, for Hochhuth, incomprehensible. He presents us with “documentary theatre” but it is documentary theatre with a clear political standpoint and Hochhuth is not above skewing historical truth in favour of dramatic power. As historian Dr Dan Todman has said: “Societies have always misrepresented the past in an attempt to understand the present.”

The inclusion of some fictional elements in a play which at least on the surface is rooted in fact may prove controversial. Yet perhaps one of the most shocking thing for Finborough audiences will be that English leaders are shown to be equally as culpable as the German.

Thanks to Oh, What a Lovely War! in the theatre and Blackadder on TV, Britons are well used to the idea of Haig-esque caricatures sending up the incompetency of the generals. But what we are less used to are the cold-blooded calculations of national heroes. 

For instance, Sommer 14 shows Churchill to be not the brilliant victor of WWII but a pompous admiral who happily uses — and loses — civilian lives as bait to entice the United States into the conflict.

Throughout the play we clearly feel Hochhuth’s anger at the carnage of World War I and fear of an impending World War III and this should resonate strongly with audiences. 

We see our unease at automated drone strikes and technological warfare mirrored in Death’s horror at the industry and mechanisation of fighting which took place for the first time during World War I and in the blaming of the Russian government for its alleged involvement in the MH17 aeroplane crash. 

We recognise a similar situation too in the claim that Gavrilo Princip’s deadly actions in Sarajevo in 1914 were officially sanctioned. And we know that, in a modern world which sees power measured not by territory but by market share, there are those who would provoke war simply to increase profits — as does the “sophisticated munitions manufacturer” of Hochhuth’s play.

Individual responsibility for vast bloodshed is the cornerstone of Sommer 14 and audiences are left with a powerful challenge to meet: “Never again.”

 

Sommer 14 — A Dance Of Death runs at the Finborough Theatre, London SW10 from August 5-30. Box office: (0844) 847-1652.

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