Bertolt Brecht’s The Threepenny Opera is a timeless masterpiece that remains shockingly relevant today, with its sly humor and commentary on social inequality still resonating in our contemporary world.
It’s a slick, glam and very funny show in a contemporary-cum-Weimar setting—catch it if you can.
The Threepenny Opera is a three-act opera written by Bertolt Brecht and composed by Kurt Weill.
First performed in 1928, it is a satirical take on the social conditions of Weimar Republic Germany.
The story revolves around Mack the Knife, a charismatic but ruthless thief, and his relationships with Jenny, a prostitute, and Peachum, a beggar king.
The opera's dark humor and commentary on capitalism have made it a classic of 20th-century theatre.
Jonathan Jeremiah Peachum, the protagonist of Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill’s early masterpiece, would likely be some kind of social media charity consultant. For a fee (and percentage), he can tell you what spin to put on your GoFundMe pleas to cover your medical bills. Peachum knows that sympathy in an attention economy is easily lost. These days, it takes an LLC just to beg for your bread.
The Threepenny Opera, also known as Die Dreigroschenoper, was John Gay’s Beggar’s Opera for Berlin in the late 1920s. It remains a testament to how little things have fundamentally changed that the show is still relevant today. Looking down the barrel of a possible recession and an ever-widening wealth gap, the parallels are all too easy to see.
Bertolt Brecht was a German playwright, poet, and theatre director.
Born in 1898, he is best known for his work on the epic theatre style, which emphasized social commentary and critique.
Brecht's most famous plays include 'The Threepenny Opera' and 'Mother Courage and Her Children'.
He also wrote extensively on Marxist theory and was a key figure in the development of socialist realism.
Brecht's work continues to influence contemporary theatre and film.
The current production at BAM, directed by Barrie Kosky, delivers a slick, glam, and very funny show in a contemporary-cum-Weimar setting. The elaborate scaffolding takes up almost the entirety of the stage, with glittery black tinsel both in front and behind. The set recalls Art Deco wallpaper: stairs and mazes create rigid, geometric forms that you get stuck in and have to weasel out of.
The Cast Brings the House Down
From sharply drawn comedic characterizations to excellent performances, the cast mostly exceeded the task. Gabriel Schneider as Mackie Messer is lithe and wiry, with a violent poise and sleazy showmanship that makes him riveting. He has an acrobat’s command of his body, able to create shapes, and a nice voice, to boot.
A cast refers to a group of actors who perform in a theatrical production, such as a play, musical, or film.
In theater, the cast is typically listed in programs and advertisements to inform audiences about the performers involved.
The size and composition of the cast can vary greatly depending on the production's needs.
For example, a small-scale play might feature only three or four actors, while a large-scale musical could require dozens of performers.
Understanding the cast is essential for appreciating the complexity and depth of a theatrical production.
Kathrin Wehlisch stands out in drag as Tiger Brown, a corrupt police chief and former war buddy of Mackie’s. From her splayfooted walk to her raspy harrumphs to her penciled-in mustache, she was a master of physical comedy. Her final bit, where she attempts to feed Mackie his final meal of flaccid asparagus, delivered on a creaky cart, was a tasty morsel of comic gold.
Constanze Becker’s Celia Peachum is another valuable player; she was sultry, cruel and entertainingly world-weary, her long face and black-rimmed eyes like a Modigliani painting come to life as a dominatrix. Her scenes with Tilo Nest were tiny triumphs.
A Clever Cocktail of Music and Comedy
Weill’s sleaze-classical-dancehall score sounded remarkably lucid under Adam Benzwi’s direction, highlighting the numerous musical jokes from the fake arias to the fake Bach chorales. The entire performance was a clarified cocktail that went down with ease. We open with the most famous tune, ‘Die Moritat von Mackie Messer’ (‘Mack the Knife‘), here sung by a character called ‘The Moon over Soho,’ in a cute take on the traditional street-singer.
A Director’s Sharp Eye
Kosky has a sharp eye as a director, especially when working with the scaffolding. Without it, the direction lost a bit of focus. Too many numbers were simply parked and barked, like Ginny-Jenny’s and Lucy’s in Act II. Despite a dragging second act, the final scenes covering Mackie’s execution were both funny and poignant, giving Schneider one more chance to show off his vast emotive and comedic skill set.
The Threepenny Opera is an opera where the singing doesn’t matter in the least. What does matter is the flair with which the lines are delivered and the individuality and expressiveness of the actors’ voices. On that front, this cast mostly exceeded the task, bringing a high level of energy and enthusiasm to their performances.
A Cynical yet Sympathetic Opera
Brecht and Weill draw from an unending (and earned) well of cynicism only to arrive at strange sympathy, one where manipulators and the manipulated know what’s going on. They certainly knew that the theater is not life—the fake-out ending says so—but survival often requires theater. After all, even an artfully ironic plea for help still expresses a sincere need.
