Black Bird Poverty: A Look at Tennessee Williams’ ‘Camino Real’
By Andrea Heinz
So there I was, ready to dive into Tennessee Williams’ ‘Camino Real’, or as I like to call it, “the royal road to nowhere” — all dressed up with nowhere to go! It’s a bit like going to a five-star restaurant only to find the only dish on the menu is disappointment. (No duck à l’orange here, folks!) We’ve got Anna-Sophie Mahler teaming up with indie band Calexico to present a drama that feels like a bus stop in a desert you forgot to escape from.
Where Dreams Go to Die
Picture this: smooth white walls, a ramp that could double as a runway, and two sad cacti. If you thought your last vacation was in a poorly reviewed hotel, wait until you get to this “plaza” where everyone is just dying to get out—literally and metaphorically. In ‘Camino Real’, the folks are stuck in what seems to be a time-travel glitch where the past is a temptation and the future looks like a dodgy Tinder date. Spoiler: There are no happy endings here, unless you count Lord Byron getting to waltz out of the madhouse dressed like he just wandered off the set of a bad Hercules remake.
A Cast of Characters…and Misfits
The ensemble cast resembles a whimsical reunion of fictional reject characters—like a bizarre mix of a David Lynch flick and a discount carnival. You’ve got Kilroy, played by Evi Kehrstephan, who’s as naïve as a kitten chasing a laser pointer. This boxer, still dreaming in gold, finds himself in the dingy Ritz, managed by Gutman, the kind of guy who’d sell you a clock that’s been ticking in reverse. It’s a feast of literary cameos, with Casanova making a charming yet tragic appearance, and a fortune teller’s daughter giving us all the “Esmeralda” vibes—because honestly, who doesn’t love a girl who can see the future?
The Musical Mood
Now let’s talk music! Calexico—who could easily pass for the headliners at an indie festival—delivers a mix of live tunes and irregular vibes that keep the evening lively. Still, there’s a nagging feeling that they might be playing to distract us from the narrative’s flimsiness. It’s like putting a fresh coat of paint on a house that’s too poorly constructed to be a home. You get some nice acoustic ambiance, but does it really lend depth to a production that seems to be flailing about aimlessly?
All Over the Place
As the evening progresses, you’re not so much watching a coherent play as you are experiencing a series of somewhat entertaining clips—like a highlight reel if it was edited by someone who had multiple cups of coffee but skipped their therapy session. The potential for something deep is there, but the production shies away, opting instead for vague references to contemporary issues that feel more superficial than substantial.
The Details, Because Who Doesn’t Love a Good Cast List?
Camino Real
by Tennessee Williams
Translated from the American by Jörn van Dyck
Director: Anna-Sophie Mahler, Stage: Katrin Connan, Costume: Victoria Behr, Composition and Live Music: Calexico, Video Art: Max Hammel, Lighting: Nicholas Langer, Sound: Michael Sturm, Dramaturgy: Alexander Kerlin.
With: Joey Burns, John Convertino, Andreas Beck, Paula Carbonell Spörk, Günther Wiederschwinger, Elias Eilinghoff, Uwe Rohbeck, Anke Zillich, Stephan Kevi, Lavinia Nowak, Bettina Lieder, Uwe Schmieder, Paul Wallfisch, Martin Wenk.
Premiere on November 15, 2024
Duration: 2 hours, no break
So, what’s my verdict? It’s a bit like ordering an extravagant dessert only to find it’s topped with a cherry that’s hit the road. You want to love it, you really do, but you end up feeling a little lost in the desert along with Kilroy. If you’re after a scattershot experience rather than a cohesive narrative, you might just enjoy the ride. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you!
Black Bird Poverty
November 16, 2024. In a haunting exploration of Tennessee Williams’ rarely performed work, “Camino Real,” the production directed by Anna-Sophie Mahler and featuring the US indie band Calexico transports audiences into a surreal world where the concept of a “Royal Road” leads nowhere but to despair. Set within the confines of a former luxury hotel, the stage is inhabited by individuals who appear stranded between reality and fantasy, leaving viewers to ponder the authenticity of their existence.
By Andrea Heinz
November 16, 2024. The stage design, conceived by Katrin Connan, creates an unnervingly claustrophobic atmosphere with smooth, white walls and a ramp that evokes a futuristic time portal. This artificial narrowing encapsulates a barren desert landscape, marked only by two forlorn cacti. Here, a shared longing pervades the air: everyone desperately seeks an escape from this inhospitable nowhere and yearns for a return to a glorious past or an elusive, brighter future, yet Williams’ narrative leaves them trapped in a never-ending cycle.
In this eloquent production at the Volkstheater, which uniquely blends live performance with music, the audience is immersed in Williams’ vision of a world steeped in existential dilemmas. The lack of a specific time or place invites contemplation of profound themes centered around wealth and poverty, love, desire, and the contempt that shadows our pursuits, ultimately culminating in the inescapable specter of death.
Dream? Fiction? Reality?
In “Camino Real,” Williams diverges from his more famous, naturalistic dramas, offering a labor of poetic exploration. The narrative unfolds as an allegorical journey where the central metaphor reveals a space where lost souls gather, clinging to faded dreams. The character Kilroy, portrayed by Evi Kehrstephan (alias Stephan Kevi), is emblematic of this struggle, embodying a childlike innocence clouded by vulnerability and the weight of failed aspirations. He still sports the remnants of his former glories: golden boxing gloves and a bedazzled championship belt, yet his heart, tender and fragile, has led to his downfall in the world of boxing.
Dropped Out of a David Lynch Film
Penniless and searching for purpose, Kilroy finds himself in a plaza teeming with transient souls. Unable to afford the lavish accommodations of Gutman, played by Andreas Beck, he resorts to the shabby Ritz men’s guesthouse, a space rife with despair and decay, managed by the comical yet sinister petty criminal A. Ratt (Uwe Rohbeck), whose erratic behavior feels lifted straight out of a David Lynch film.
As the narrative unfolds, Kilroy encounters a colorful cast of characters including the suave Casanova (Elias Eilinghoff) and the ethereal camellia lady Marguerite (Bettina Lieder), as well as the fortune teller’s daughter (Anke Zillich), who evokes echoes of Esmeralda from “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.” In this surreal realm, the flamboyant figure of Lord Byron (Uwe Schmieder), dressed in a striking frilly shirt and leather trousers, emerges as the only one fortunate enough to glimpse the possibility of escape, embodying the aspiration that eludes so many in this lifeless limbo.
Before him, the stage features a city gate imprinted with video projections of desolate deserts and the haunting image of a flaming tree, serving as the portal to freedom. Byron is briefly granted passage out, while Kilroy faces a dream-like scene where his heart is extracted by a “lecturer” (Günther Wiederschwinger). The heart, seemingly made of gold, leaves the audience questioning whether this moment signifies his demise or a surreal form of transcendence.
Acoustic Atmosphere
As the production unfolds within this disoriented tapestry, the presence of Calexico—dressed in their exquisitely embroidered suits, designed by Victoria Behr—infuses the performance with a unique acoustic ambiance. The band contributes original compositions, adding a layer of emotional resonance that will surely delight their devoted fanbase. However, the production sometimes falters in its ambition, creating a sense of laziness in its open structure, leaving the audience yearning for a greater coherence and depth of engagement.
Though the evening is populated with energetic performances and amusing moments, the overall execution struggles to coalesce into a satisfying artistic statement. Isolated scenes lack the necessary connectivity to paint a meaningful narrative while making only superficial nods to significant contemporary human issues. As the night progresses, one can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the characters, reflecting an urge to escape alongside them.
Camino Real
von Tennessee Williams
Translated from the American by Jörn van Dyck
Director: Anna-Sophie Mahler, stage: Katrin Connan, costume: Victoria Behr, composition and live music: Calexico, video art: Max Hammel, lighting: Nicholas Langer, sound: Michael Sturm, dramaturgy: Alexander Kerlin.
With: Joey Burns, John Convertino, Andreas Beck, Paula Carbonell Spörk, Günther Wiederschwinger, Elias Eilinghoff, Uwe Rohbeck, Anke Zillich, Stephan Kevi, Lavinia Nowak, Bettina Lieder, Uwe Schmieder, Paul Wallfisch, Martin Wenk.
Premiere am 15. November 2024
Duration: 2 hours, no break
In what ways does the blending of Tennessee Williams’ themes with modern musical elements enhance or detract from the storytelling in “Camino Real”?
He haunting landscape of ”Camino Real,” Calexico’s music serves as both a backdrop and a character of its own. Their blend of indie rock and heartfelt melodies adds a layer of emotional resonance, punctuating the characters’ struggles and dreams. While the music creates a sense of intimacy and nostalgia, it also raises crucial questions about the depth of the story being conveyed. The acoustic atmosphere envelops the audience, masking some of the more fragmented elements of the narrative, but does it truly enhance the experience or merely distract from the underlying issues at hand?
Final Thoughts
In this ambitious production, the intertwining of Tennessee Williams’ surreal allegory with modern musical elements presents an intriguing exploration of life’s absurdities and existential crises. However, the challenge remains in navigating through the occasionally disjointed scenes that make up the evening’s entertainment. Just as Kilroy wanders lost in the desolate plaza, audience members may find themselves grappling with a desire for more coherent storytelling intertwined with the thematic richness Williams intended. For those willing to embrace the chaos and indulge in the rich visual and auditory experience, “Camino Real” might just offer moments of beauty amidst the despair.
As the curtain falls, the lingering question remains: can we find rejuvenation in a place that seems destined for desolation? Perhaps, it’s all about the journey—messy and unrefined, yet undeniably captivating.
