So at some point they will be seen more closely, the imitation forgeries of the Hitler diaries. Five volumes with a seal, the letters “F” and “H” and the imprint “top secret”, the men in suits raise their hands excitedly, sometimes opening pages of books with weather-beaten drawings or handwritten entries. More than 600 hours of manual work have gone into it, as you can see from the program booklet. She made the props for Christian Brey’s production of the Helmut Dietl comedy “Schtonk!” in the Nuremberg Playhouse. A lot of effort for an evening that tries to be funny and resorts to flat comedic craft.
First of all, the day of the premiere was chosen happily. Because exactly on May 7th, 39 years ago, the counterfeiter Konrad Kujau was exposed. He had dem starreporter Gerd Heidemann and his bosses – heads of department, editors-in-chief and the head of the publishing house – sold the supposed Hitler diaries. It cost the publisher more than nine million euros – apart from a good part of its credibility. Helmut Dietl used the affair as a basis for his film comedy “Schtonk!”, which was released in 1992. Uwe Ochsenknecht played the forger, who he calls Fritz Knobel. Dietl cast Götz George as the reporter with the fictitious name Hermann Willié.
The Hitler diaries for the Nuremberg production were elaborately produced.
(Photo: Konrad Fersterer)
At the end of a season in Nuremberg that deals with the continuities of right-wing thinking and right-wing violence in Germany, “Schtonk!” now be director Brey’s contribution. To do this, he keeps the major storylines, only changes the subplot. In fact, Dietl reveals much of the brown social swamp that still openly worshiped Hitler long after the end of the war. This is written so deeply into this history that it also remains in Nuremberg. Even if here every Hitler salute, every right-wing impulse is played out ridiculously rather than taken seriously in terms of its danger.
Anette Hachmann’s stage is very flexible. Central elements are on the one hand Fritz Knobel’s counterfeiting workshop and on the other hand the former Göring yacht Carin II, which Reporter Willié acquired to capitalize on. They each take up half of the revolving stage. Since this is not very big, the Carin II more of a barge, the workshop looks like a tent set up quickly by the THW, but with detailed interior fittings from an ironing board to a desk to tea bags. There is no real water there. If the very trusting Fritz Knobel (Amadeus Köhli) makes the tea infusion for his counterfeiting trade, then he has to pretend. As in many other places, the concept of the detailed equipment does not work out, but wobbles like in the Komödienstadl.
Dietl’s dialogues remain
That could be overlooked if many numbers on stage didn’t seem like they were taken from them or reanimated from eighties slapstick. For example, when Knobel wants to sell a fake Hitler painting and fails for minutes to set up an easel. Or when publishing manager Wieland (Yascha Finn Nolting) has his face stuck in a plastic cactus. Or when Willié (Justus Pfankuch) and Knobel conspiratorially meet in a yellow phone booth. Then they slip in one after the other, pretending not to notice the other, until one suddenly turns around and both startle. Brey has also dismantled the editorial staff and publishing management with silly air-cushion sofas that one would not even trust them to work on an advertising supplement.
What remains are the absurd Dietl dialogues and the even more absurd story. They form a solid framework that doesn’t break during the two hours or so in the theater. But it’s badly messed up afterwards.