Frankfurt’s Landungsbrücken Theatre is presenting “Oder Wie Gewalt,” a theatrical collage about what it calls “media violence.” The term refers not to the graphic depiction of violence in the media, but to the power exercised by media themselves—an idea linked to the subtitle of Heinrich Böll’s novel “The Lost Honour of Katharina Blum”: “or: How violence develops and where it can lead.”
The production begins with three performers presenting themselves as members of a fictional “Bürger*innenensemble Brandungslücken.” Jochen Döring, Randi Rettel and Sam Michelson move spectators through the theatre’s small hall, drawing them into the action while pointing to gaps in the space and repeatedly mentioning a monthly contribution of 25 euros. The device brings the audience physically closer, although the production does not fully examine the audience’s role in media consumption.
Created by Blasted Productions, led by Felix Bieske and Linus Koenig, the piece was apparently conceived as an adaptation of Böll’s novel. Instead, Nora Kühnlein plays Katrin Blume, rather than Katharina Blum, while the production refers to several real cases and controversies. These include the case involving Heinrich Böll, the Monika Weimar case and the use of the derogatory and inaccurate term “Döner murders” for the NSU’s terrorist crimes.
The production argues that headlines can shape politics, manipulate the public and turn speculation into accepted fact. Andreas Jahncke plays, among other figures, Springer chief executive Mathias Döpfner, using crocodile tears and an affected enthusiasm for art. The central message is that there are many Blums—everyone who can be reduced to a media narrative may become one. In one comic example, Léa Zéhaf’s portrayal of the whale Timmy is also presented as a kind of Blum.
The performance mixes pointed dialogue with deliberately embarrassing costumes by Prisca Ludwig, including artificial beards and elaborate fringes. Katharina Wiedenhofer’s awkward dance sequences are set to disorienting music by Thomas Buchenauer. The title song comes from Vonliebknecht, the band associated with Bieske and Koenig.
Yet the production’s humor does not resolve its structural gaps. A large part of the roughly 90-minute performance consists of dossiers on well-known or nearly forgotten cases. Political misjudgments, media campaigns, investigative errors and escalating public reactions are presented alongside one another, sometimes without a clear connection.
Individual media habits and social networks receive little attention. Although the fictional “Brandungslücken” move the audience forward, the production does not substantially question how spectators participate in the media environment. It largely treats scandals as if they belonged to an analogue one-way world dominated by newspapers and oversized headlines.
That approach contrasts with the programme booklet, which consists entirely of QR codes, including links to videos about the scandals discussed on stage. The production’s focus on traditional media therefore leaves open the possibility that its examination of media violence may need a second part.
Sources: FAZ.