After "The Reich Citizen," Thomas Krupa stages a virtual reality theater film for the second time at Schauspiel Essen. This time: Marlen Haushofer's novel "The Wall," published in 1963, a peculiar and suffocating story that was rediscovered in the 1980s by the women’s movement and as an image of nuclear threat. During the Corona crisis, many theaters staged a version of the story of this "wall," which is suddenly there, transparent yet impenetrable, insurmountable. And of the woman who suddenly gets stuck behind this wall, in a hunting lodge in the woods.
In Krupa's VR film, we look into a chic tiny house, lots of wood, minimalist furnishings, large window panes, a loft for the bed, climbing grips on the wall, Siri responds from the smart home system. Sometimes we observe the woman from above through the VR glasses, sometimes we look from the inside out, sometimes we stand in front of the house in the woods. The perspective shifts, the view remains restricted. For one and a half hours we linger with the woman in the confinement she was forced into overnight, separated from the rest of the world. We are very close to her, touchingly uncomfortable.
She settles into this new life with a dog and a cow, watches videos, shoots deer, sets up a potato patch, stitches a wound, extracts a painful tooth. We are there, fear and compassion in 360 degrees. She draws us into the fear and pleasure of being alone. Actress Floriane Kleinpaß gives the woman this almost unshakeable calm that is also impressive when reading the novel. Sometimes she is close to madness but remains a productive agent. It is as if she soothes her own words, with which she also allows us to partake in her thoughts. Kleinpaß speaks softly, almost meditatively, reflecting the situation with every word.
What exactly happened remains uncertain. A climate catastrophe? The end of civilization? From time to time we look to the other side, driving with the camera through a dead area, between gray buildings, as if draped with curtains by Christo, a stony nothing speckled with frozen human beings. Krupa further amplifies Haushofers' observation of nature. At some point, we no longer see and hear the weather merely behind the glass, the house is overgrown, plants grow inside as well as outside, it drips and oozes. "But I was colder than the wind and did not freeze," says the woman. The glass panes are no longer needed; all life is now pressing into each other. And through the destroyed roof, we see the starlit sky.
This time, Krupa – together with VR artist Tobias Bieseke – creates a different theater space, one that gets up close and personal, moving and threatening, as it offers no safe space as long as you wear the VR goggles. This one-to-one experience is perfectly suited for Haushofers' story.
Unfortunately, the VR goggles are only delivered within the Essen city area.
