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Caligari

 
A. A. Lewis Review by A. A. Lewis 1 Published: 20 Aug 2025 theSpace on the Mile Show Dates: 18 Aug 2025-23 Aug 2025

Caligari, an eerie, darkly comic, metatheatrical riff on Robert Wiene’s silent film The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, takes audiences to Weimar Germany – sort of – into the central themes and messages of the post-war classic – kind of – in order to say something supposedly new, using concepts from the 105-year-old original as the backbone for this new play-within-a-play’s meaning.

An exhausted gimmick that brings little to the table

We are presented with a chorus of nameless narrators, all of whom have been affected by the tyranny of Caligari, as a character within the play but also as a symbol of the long-known interpretation of Caligari as a corporate metaphor for power, corruption, and unwanted authority. They must take it upon themselves to tell the story their way. The 2020s may be as fitting a time as any for a play like Caligari, which revamps and re-explores the prescient messaging of the film, which has been called the first ever horror movie and a game-changer for cinematic expression – after all, we have more than enough hideous and maniacal leaders in the world. That said, this play offers nothing apparently new in either style or substance.

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is regarded as both a staple of German Expressionism and a cultural landmark of Weimar Germany. The critical consensus is that the film is a potent synthesis of motifs about authority, aggression, and delusion, largely inspired by European war governments, casualties of WW1, and what Siegfried Kracauer analysed as a subconscious desire in German society for tyranny. All of these themes are apparent in the film, a gorgeous exemplar of theatrical mise-en-scène which tactfully celebrates its own performativity – as well as its innate anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist commentaries. The film remains a political and cultural landmark about innocents caught in the line of fire of aggressive forces and corrupt power structures. Who is forgotten and left behind?

Caligari – the play – cherry-picks significant themes from Wiene’s classic and delivers a lacklustre retelling with very little thought of its own. Striking make-up and some compelling performances cannot save the production from clunky direction, heavy-handed exposition, overblown delivery, and missed opportunities for a more physical, Berkoffian approach to the storytelling. The Fringe is no stranger to retellings or to repurposing classic texts to tell new stories and explore new dynamics, but the central take-away of Caligari – which the script wastes no time in pressing upon its audience – is something already fully explored in the original. What is new here?

There is certainly a play to be found – a new story to be told about the other victims of Caligari’s hegemony. But this production’s endless starting and stopping, its repeated breaking of the fourth wall, and its disruption of narrative flow suggest a dearth of ideas rather than engaging metatheatrical trickery – as it might have been perceived a century ago, around the time The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari was released. The Pirandello-esque aimlessness of these characters feels less like a charming cerebral thought experiment, crossing the boundaries of reality and fiction in pursuit of greater meaning, and more like an exhausted gimmick that brings little to the table. Indeed, very little, to the Caligari debate at all.

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The Blurb:

Willkommen to Weimar Germany, where our nameless narrators draw you into the haunting show of Caligari and their sleepwalker and servant Cesare who does their every bidding. A darkly comedic tale of love, friendship and fear awaits...