★★★★

“a powerful study of suffering, resilience and renewal”

The Berliner Ensemble – founded by Bertolt Brecht and Helene Weigel – returns to London with the UK premiere of Oscar Wilde’s ‘De Profundis’. This finely judged German-language production realises Wilde’s final major prose work with fitting intelligence and emotional intensity.

Written while imprisoned for “gross indecency” to the man Wilde blamed for his ruination, ‘De Profundis’ is a raw and searching account of the catastrophe that came to define his life.

Wilde’s longest autobiographical work – translated to German by Mirko Bonné and adapted with dramaturg Johannes Nölting – is distilled into a portrait of profound mental distress. Yet from that suffering emerges an extraordinary lyricism, rich with devastatingly critical self-reflection. Far from a lament, it movingly charts Wilde’s search for spiritual strength, revealing deep transformation and culminating in fragile hope. As a non-German speaker, I sadly can’t speak to the subtleties of Bonné’s translation, but Wilde’s humanity remains unmistakable.

Oliver Reese’s direction is elegant in its simplicity. Confined to a cramped, elevated cell, Wilde is at once isolated and exposed. His sprawling prison letter is deftly shaped into episodes of shifting emotional intensity – a fittingly fragmented window into a volatile mind. Reese makes shrewd use of minimal props and space, with changes in movement, tone and perspective ensuring the austerity never feels static. A stuffed bird emerges from a plastic bag, offering the only clue to Wilde’s previous lifestyle before gathering new meaning, while Wilde’s eventual reclothing suggests reconstruction – though forever blackened. The production’s greatest strength is also its main challenge – the keen focus puts language centre stage, and for English-speaking audiences some of Wilde’s lyrical beauty is inevitably lost to the surtitles. Even so, the emotional force carries powerfully across the language divide.

Jörg Gollasch’s score provides a resonant counterpoint to the stark staging. Abstract yet expressive, it mirrors the emotional contours of Wilde’s text, amplifying its impact without overwhelming it. Equally effective is the strategic use of silence, lending key moments an almost unbearable intimacy and reinforcing Wilde’s profound loneliness.

Hansjörg Hartung’s striking design is modern, minimalist and monochrome – the antithesis of Wilde’s pre-prison life. By stripping away familiar mythology, it leaves behind the man. The sense of confinement is palpable, heightened by Steffen Heinke’s superb lighting, particularly in the unsettling image of the ceiling closing in. Elina Schnizler’s plain shirt and tie complete the effect, replacing Wilde’s famously extravagant image with one of conformity and ordinariness.

Acclaimed German actor Jens Harzer attacks Wilde’s words with ferocious intensity and disarming vulnerability. Even through the language barrier, his deeply felt performance proves utterly captivating, illuminating the emotional depths of Wilde’s most personal work.

Berliner Ensemble’s ‘De Profundis’ transforms Wilde’s despair into a powerful study of suffering, resilience and renewal. While it undoubtedly lands with greater force for German speakers, its clarity and humanity make it well worth experiencing.

STRANGER THAN THE MOON

The Coronet Theatre

★★★

“quietly and powerfully atmospheric”

Bertolt Brecht, during a long train journey from Ausburg to Berlin in 1920, wrote a poem he titled ‘Stranger than the Moon’. Germany at the time was still attempting to rise from the wreckage of the First World War and it was a slow, disruptive journey. Brecht knew that his poem wasn’t particularly good lyrically and that not many people would read it, but he already had a musical accompaniment in his head thus securing its place in popular music. A century later, the Berlin Ensemble – established by Brecht and his wife, Helene Weigel in 1949 – have taken the folk song’s title to create a portrait of his life in words and music. In true Brechtian style, it is a disjointed affair. At times rambling and obscure, but quietly and powerfully atmospheric.

The two actors shuffle onto the stage resembling a couple of prisoners, or factory workers, clad in seaweed-green overalls. Paul Herwig represents Brecht’s (aka B.B.) voyage from cradle to grave while Katharine Mehrling seems to be portraying his alter egos, his consciousness and desires; and the women in his life. The chronology follows a buckled, linear course along which we only find our way by picking up breadcrumbs. Scraps of biography littered among the torn-out poetry – often disconnected and hard to follow. Performed in German with English surtitles the show describes the emergence of Brecht’s personality, beginning in the womb, his later rejection of the class he was born into, his love lives, experiences of war, his exile, return home and finally his death.

Adam Benzwi is at the piano throughout. A shadowy but formidable presence he underscores the emotional content, with subtle crescendos into the musical set pieces. Mehrling’s voice floats above the accompaniment in rich, gorgeous tones. She has a style plucked straight from the Weimar era. A Lotte Lenya for the twenty-first century. She sings more than she speaks while for Herwig it is the other way around. He has a playful quality to his diction and a singing voice that is more character than perfection, resembling a ‘Baal’ era Bowie when he slips into English.

Although it is not made very clear, Brecht’s life story is being told in three distinctive parts. The days of the Weimar Republic and his first taste of success; his exile to Europe and then the United States; his return to East Berlin after the Second World War. Unfortunately, we learn very little about his life. The use of a vast video backdrop sheds no more light on the history either, and we feel there are missed opportunities which Oliver Reese’s static direction amplifies. At two hours, with no interval, the indulgent moments begin to claw at our patience. Mehrling provides some variety of expression through inspired costume changes and a more dynamic performance. We keep coming back to her voice, which is the show’s main saviour, and which lifts it from its uniformity.

The closing moments of the evening chart Brecht’s final days, and a quite beautiful melancholy closes the show. ‘Where are the tears of last evening? Where is the snow of yesteryear?’ the couple sing, from ‘Nanna’s Song’. Brecht was aware that, as he put it, ‘death is half a breath away’. Throughout his life he suffered from a chronic heart condition. Even music could induce palpitations and frequently his heart would beat too fast. Although “Stranger than the Moon” is unlikely to affect us in any similar way, it does, indeed, touch the heart.

Tag Archives: Oliver Reese

DE PROFUNDIS

★★★★

The Coronet Theatre

DE PROFUNDIS

The Coronet Theatre

★★★★

“a powerful study of suffering, resilience and renewal”

DE PROFUNDIS

The Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 2nd October 2026

by Hannah Bothelton

Photography by Jörg Brüggemann

DE PROFUNDIS

DE PROFUNDIS

DE PROFUNDIS

STRANGER THAN THE MOON

★★★

The Coronet Theatre

STRANGER THAN THE MOON

The Coronet Theatre

★★★

“quietly and powerfully atmospheric”