The London Times' Stephen Farrell reports in on the theater beat from Israel:
In five years covering the Middle East for The Times I have witnessed scenes that stretched credulity, in a region where history more often than not gives birth to its bastard offspring - tragedy and farce - simultaneously.
* * *
In Najaf during one of the fiercest military battles of the Iraq insurgency I saw Moqtada al-Sadr's militia cackling with laughter at the hoary old 'Yes but are you a Catholic Shia or Protestant Shia' joke from Northern Ireland.
In Fallujah a terrifying kidnap descended into hysterical scenes as I watched a roomful of Baathist insurgents stand in a circle and compare bald spots, before gravely agreeing that Her Majesty's Times correspondent’s beat them all.
* * *
But nothing, nothing compared with the scene of a Nazi-saluting Israeli actor, whose own European Jewry grandfather was a personal friend of Franz Kafka - shouting 'Heil' on an Israeli theatre stage while wearing a Third Reich helmet, gravely assuring an audience of Kristallnacht survivors: 'the Fuhrer was a great dancer'.
Yes, friends, Mel Brooks' musical version of The Producers has opened onstage in Israel, featuring noted drag queen Itzik Cohen as Roger de Bris/Hitler. [Additional photos of Cohen's flouncin' fatty of a führer accompany this AP story.]
As Mr. Farrell reports in his companion story, putting on a Nazi-centric musical comedy in Israel provides hitherto unsuspected opportunities for that nice Mrs. Miriam Bobash to play dark little practical jokes on her husband Benny:
During the interval on Tuesday, Miriam Bobash, 78, a Dresden-born Holocaust survivor, said that she had not told her husband, Benny, about the content of the play beforehand.
'It’s fun,' she said with a grin. 'It actually is very good.' Mr. Bobash, 81, was altogether less enthusiastic. He said: 'It’s not a subject that we should even laugh about. If I had known, I wouldn’t have come.' His view was clearly in the minority.
'The biggest fun on earth,' said Frances Marcus, 74, who survived the Holocaust in her native Netherlands.
'You couldn’t have put this on twenty or even ten years ago. And now to see this Hitler dancing and not feel offended. Attitudes to Germany have changed totally. Both sides have grown up.' After a pause she added: 'And with this whole business of the [Prophet Muhammad] cartoons — isn’t this just the biggest, super-mega cartoon, this show?'
The Tel Aviv production is in Hebrew, but it is not the first non-English version of the show. That distinction, at least according to Pravda, belongs to the production that opened last month in that notorious hotbed of cavalier disrespect, Copenhagen, Denmark. A cast photo (and hotel bookings) may be had here.
[Initial tip-off to the existence of the Tel Aviv production via Tim Blair.]
But will Stormtrooper Mel record a hebrew version of his classic line, "Don't be stupid, be a smarty, come and join the Nazi party!"?
Posted by: Rick | February 27, 2006 at 07:11 AM
"Against the assault of laughter, nothing can stand."
Mark Twain should be named the second father of our country.
Posted by: Cowtown Pattie | February 27, 2006 at 08:09 AM
Similar humor. Hitler/Hillary who knew? University College London spoof 2005
After nearly seven years of silence, former First Cat Socks is appearing before the media with horror stories of what it was like to live with the Clintons, including his harrowing escape from death after his owners left the White House.
Currently living in hiding with former Bill Clinton secretary Bettie Currie, Socks - now 16 - gave an interview to the UCL London Times.
"America must know the truth about how Hillary tried to kill me."
"At first I really liked Hillary," Socks said. "she was cold, calculating, and utterly indifferent to the feelings of others. She was like a soulmate to me. But then she changed. Every time she was angry at Bill, she took it out on me. I've taken to wearing my fur long just so that I can lick it over the scars from all the flying lamps."
Some speculate that acquiring a cat was just a political move on Hillary's part to soften her shrewish image. Socks concurs. "When the cameras were on, it was all cream & tuna, plenty of scratching behind the ears, nuzzling, cooing... she'd fuss over me like I was a Chinese campaign donor. But behind closed doors, nothing but screaming and spray bottles. And they weren't always filled with water, either. I used to think that 'piss & vinegar' was just a figure of speech. Now I know better."
Socks assumed that once his tenure as a "personality prop" ended with the Bush inauguration, he'd be set for life. "Sure, I was abused a lot, but I figured that it was just the stress of having such a high public profile. Once we were out of the White House, I thought she'd HAVE to lay off me. Maybe start beating on that professional puddle-maker, Buddy."
His prediction was frighteningly wrong.
"About a week after we left," said Socks, chain-smoking and looking around the room nervously, "I found out that Buddy had an 'accident'. 'Ran into the road' they said. My ass! Buddy was deathly afraid of ANY loud noise. Piddled himself during every thunderstorm. Never seen him get within a hundred feet of traffic without sprinkling the lawn in terror. He HAD to have been pushed."
"As for me, yeah, well, I was a little nervous after that."
His anxiety turned out to be justified.
"About 2 weeks after that, Hillary put me in the car. Said we were going to the park to 'chase some chipmunks'. Sounded like fun. Until I saw the sign that said Fort Marcy Park. I just KNEW at that point she was going to 'Foster' me."
"As soon as she opened the car door," said Socks, his voice starting to crack as he recollected the trauma, "I gave her four sharp ones across the nose and just started running. I never looked back. I heard a couple gunshots and my tail felt like it was on fire. She winged me a good one. So much blood. Broke the 12th and 13th caudal vertebrae, but it wasn't life-threatening. She searched around for a while, but she must've seen the blood & figured I was dead."
"I hid in the park for a couple days," continued Socks, "then made my way to Bettie's house. I always liked her. Seemed like she always had a couple ounces of some primo green leafy on her. I heard she grew the stuff in her back yard. Never had a better catnip connection. Anyway, she took me in and we've been together ever since."
Some believe that Socks brought the trouble on himself, but he denies the rumors. "Yeah, I may have crapped in her shoes once, but that was just payback for the time when she found me playing with a pair of Monica's panties and tasered me."
"As for the 'pillow-peeing incidents'," Socks concluded, "that was absolutely Bill. He'd wet-head the bitch in her sleep every time she wouldn't give him some head and then blame it on me."
Posted by: Socks Anyone | February 15, 2008 at 07:59 AM