Karl Berbuer landed a carnival hit in 1948 with his “Trizonesien-Song”. The song combined mild satire on the post-war division of West Germany into three occupation zones with the refrain line that can always be sung along even when drunk: “Hei-di-tschimmela-tschimmela-tschimmela-tschimmela-bumm”. Among other things, the “natives of Trizonesia” affirm: “We are not cannibals, but we kiss all the better!”
On the stage of Theater Oberhausen the “Trizonesien-Song” sounds monotonously filtered in a kind of trance version. The ensemble dances to this, dressed in animal print uniforms. The choreography is reminiscent of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” video. The zombies in this video are kind of cannibals too. You have to think about the racist connotations yourself.
Yes, the semiotics of the Cologne carnival can be interpreted in a more complex way than some Immi might believe. “Immis” in Cologne are those that are called “Zuagroaste” in Munich, i.e. those who come from somewhere else. And the paradox of a culture that on the one hand wants to hug everyone in a Kölsch intoxication, but at the same time insists that “dat Hätz vun dr Welt” is happening in Kölle, so this paradox is what Joana Tischkau’s “playback musical” with the title “Carnival” is about freshly renovated Oberhausen theater.
The self-imposed goal of the evening is the unmasking of exclusionary and racist stereotypes, criticism of “cultural appropriation” through costumes and Germanism, which is entrenched behind the maintenance of customs. The revolving stage is equipped with a convex wall made of beer kegs, behind which there is a show staircase, which is paneled with wood on the side. Unhappy clowns trip and trample around in this stage setting.
The whole thing is underlaid with alienated loops of carnival hits like “Echte Fründe” and Mallorca party brain-killers like “The bass has to fuck”. In between, original sounds are played from the off, to which the actors move their lips (more or less) synchronously. Annegret Kramp-Karrenbauer complains that the carnival tradition shouldn’t give way to a general tension that “puts every word on the gold scales”. Another voice conjures up Cologne dialect as a culture that you have to learn at the “Akademie för ons kölsche Sproch” in order to belong.
Thomas Gottschalk’s curly hair wig
In addition to all this, the actors act either in clown outfits or costumes that are based on the clothing style of the African sapeur community. They grin, grab their crotches, line up at a table like a festival committee. And they dance a lot, which is entertaining, but could have been even shorter. All of this is linked thematically by scenes from Disney’s “The Lion King”, which deals a lot with little Simba’s search for identity and thus, in a figurative sense, somehow with that of the German nation. One can only hope that the rights of use have been clarified with Disney.
If you were in Cologne and not in the Ruhr area, you would call all this “e betzje latschich”, i.e.: a bit imprecisely worked. There is no lack of commitment. Director Joana Tischkau will personally replace actor Henry Morales, who is absent due to illness, together with choreography assistant Rahma Klein.
Ultimately, however, there is not only a lack of accuracy in the implementation, but above all of bite in terms of content. Yes, it speaks for itself when Thomas Gottschalk, for example, does not brag about claiming in an interview that at a “party in Beverly Hills, where only white bankers were” he experienced for the first time “how it feels to be black “, because as a failed Jimi Hendrix tribute act he had painted his face black and wore a curly hair wig.
But don’t such oaths of revelation have much more to do with general narrow-mindedness: “One will probably still be allowed to say or do this or that” than with the carnival that is to be impaled here? But there is enough material: for example, the numerous clubs that call themselves “Negerköpp”, which some time ago led to the demand “Fiere, net discriminate!” led. Also the Cologne dialect band The Piano Has Been Drinking Decades ago, he addressed the dull aspects of carnival with “Saddam Alaaf”. Something like that would have been good here.
As a result, “Carnival” is a missed opportunity. One feels reminded of the student theater – sympathetic, but toothless. After all, a few viewers actually can’t resist the temptation at some point. They clap along to the rhythm of the music. But that’s not satire, it’s real carnival.