Despite superb acting and Patrick Marber’s nimble direction, Marius von Mayenburg’s unsettling drama about the legacy of the Holocaust proves problematic

The title of prominent German Jewish writer Marius von Mayenburg’s 2022 drama is an invented German word suggesting ‘a place of eternal darkness’. If that suggests hell, or at least Hades, think of it more as a rather darker version of Alice’s Wonderland, while perhaps bearing in mind French philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre’s phrase, “hell is other people”. Now, in a translation by Maja Zade, Nachtland brings its dark dilemmas and uneasy relationships to the Young Vic.

The play opens with Nicola (Dorothea Myer-Bennett, an excellent late replacement for Romola Garai) and her brother Philipp (John Heffernan) house-clearing soon after the death of their father. Their sibling rivalry and constant sniping are clearly discomfiting Nicola’s helpful husband Fabian (Gunnar Cauthery) and Philipp’s wife Judith (Jenna Augen), who interject to tell them about a painting Fabian has found in the attic.

Don’t think Dorian Gray – although the unexpected repercussions of its provenance are no less revelatory and far-reaching. At first sight it’s an unremarkable little outdoor scene, debatably kitsch, but when Judith spots the signature – A Hitler – the shadows of history evoke that ‘place of darkness’ and the issue of the legacy of the Holocaust for contemporary Germany is made concrete.

Authentication of the painting and signature would mean it’s worth a fortune. Everyone except Judith – Jewish and a child of survivors whom Augen layers with complicated depths – wants to call in an expert. She is horrified that the painting’s provenance may prove she has married into a family involved with the Nazis, while her husband reveals that he perceives their union as an expiation of cultural guilt. 

It’s here that the play takes a surreal turn with darkly comic undertones. Despite Judith’s objections, a specialist art historian is consulted: Dr Evamaria Günther (Jane Horrocks), the epitome of the blonde Aryan, plays her part and a wealthy buyer erupts on to the stage in the action’s most unexpected moment. Suffice it to say that Kahl the buyer (Angus Wright, superbly horrifying in one of the most playful and free performances he has given recently) literally reveals how physically fit he is – and exactly what he’s into.

Poor Fabian, meanwhile, appears to be going downhill both mentally and physically, after the rotting frame causes an infection (tetanus not tinnitus, in one of the most groan-inducing jokes) and inflammation seems to suspend his arm in a ‘Heil Hitler’ salute.

Patrick Marber brings his usual aplomb to the Young Vic’s stage, nimbly directing a terrific cast. Throughout, the protagonists address the audience as well as each other, their mini tableaux staged at strategic points on designer Anna Fleischle’s clever set, illuminated by Richard Howell’s lighting, accompanied and underscored by composer and sound designer Adam Cork.

However, as written, they are caricatures or vehicles for argument, not fully realised human beings, and the tonal see-sawing from brutish humour to philosophy to political polemic – and from kitchen-sink drama to Brechtian surrealism – leaves the audience at a loss as to what the play is trying to be and what we are meant to make of the (lack of) resolution.

When Nicola seizes the opportunity call out Israel for its ongoing persecution of Palestinians, it is uncomfortably topical, especially as Judith challenges the antisemitism underlying her attitude. But, rather than carefully unpacking this complexity, the writer doesn’t know what to do with either side of the debate and leaves it hanging as a discarded thread – one of many in the play.

As a concept, Nachtland is an intriguing and unsettling undertaking. Played in the original German, and in a modern Germany working hard to renew itself in light of its past, despite the current creeping rise of a new nationalism and fascism, its questions of Holocaust legacy must be potent. However, its European bite doesn’t quite transfer to the British stage. In English, the writing feels less sharply urgent than one might expect, especially given the current political realities in the Middle East and antisemitism in the UK.

Perhaps it’s that circumstances have served to dilute the play’s impact, as the unexpected horrific events of 7 October last year, and the responses to them, have swiftly changed the Weltanschauung of so many worldwide, at a time when presumably the production was already well underway. Unfortunately, the result is that – despite its wit, philosophical explorations of darkness and clever lighting techniques – Nachtland is ultimately unilluminating.

By Judi Herman and Aviva Dautch

Photos by Ellie Kurttz

Nachtland runs until Saturday 20 April. 7.30pm, 2.30pm (Wed & Sat only). From £24. Young Vic Theatre, London, SE1 8LZ. youngvic.org