If you think changing outfit in your car during a long, busy day is quite an undertaking, imagine changing costume one, two, three, four, five… well, too many times to count, in the span of one hour and a half – all the while singing and delivering breakneck dialogues. That should give you a taste of what actors Dagmar Manzel and Max Hopp did in Komische Oper Berlin’s production of Oscar Straus’ musical comedy Eine Frau, die weiß, was sie will, recently staged at the Schillertheater in Berlin. Originally meant for a more numerous cast (the libretto features more than 15 characters), the operetta was reimagined by director Barrie Kosky as a folie à deux with minimal paraphernalia other than the actors’ chemistry.
Despite its promise of a “woman who knows what she wants”, the work centres two women who not only change their mind surprisingly fast, but are also clueless of who they are to each other. A frenzied maelstrom of rivalry in love, illicit flirting and romantic counteroffensives finds a quick resolution as soon as the two leads – Manon, renowned actress, and Lucy, a younger girl with a peppery temper – are revealed to be mother and daughter, with a shared and unabashed passion for men. In this sense, the plot is really just an excuse to portray a certain type of witty, eccentric femininity which then bore a lot of fruit in Old Hollywood comedies.
Kosky’s staging emphasised this whirlwind narrative by drastically reducing the size of the cast while speeding up the tempo. Set in front of a simple red curtain framing a white wall with a door, the show mostly took place through the actors’ bodies, their charisma and comedic timing. Much of the humour derived from the progressive accumulation of roles played by each performer, leaving the audience to guess which character would be next and how they would manage the scenes where two characters played by the same person are on stage together. The solution? Having Manzel and Hopp dressed in half, playing both the women and their lovers, differentiating voice and mannerisms. Thanks to the excellent work of the costume department, led by designer Kathrin Kath, the changes were speedy and impeccable.
However, because of the sparse set design and reduced proportions of this production, one could be left wondering what would become of it without the same strong pair of leads who have been starring in it since 2015. Truth be told, Manzel and Hopp were the heart of the show. Alternating on stage non-stop, engaging in constant back-and-forths with each other and with themselves in a way that would make His Girl Friday seem drowsy – the two actors portrayed every character with a few basic but distinguishing traits, in a cartoonish but credible way.
Indeed, be it because of the red curtain or because of Manzel and Hopp’s absurdist physical comedy, one could sense a vague reminiscence to a classic Muppet Show episode, catchy musical breaks included. While neither of the actors is lyrically trained, their singing met the demands of a work that is close to vaudeville, and therefore requires versatility more than anything else. Both Manzel and Hopp paired a mostly spoken – or comically inarticulate – type of dialogue with good musicality, less concerned with polish than with theatrical effect.
Conductor Adam Benzwi completed the picture with a true-to-style interpretation, pleasant and easy. He favoured the melodic appeal of Straus’ score, amplifying its earworm potential. Much of the zest also came from the rhythmic drive of the orchestra, whose percussions set fast, lively tempos. But the binding element was ultimately the piano, a veritable third actor that contributed to Manzel and Hopp’s skits with its playful live commentary.
