AMIR URIAN in ‘Hitler’ 370.
(photo credit: Michal Baratz)
Astrong stomach is required to sit through Amir Urian’s 70-minute Hitler, a
deeply, deeply disturbing monodrama that roils both the head and the
On the one hand it’s shallow, clichéd, vulgar and
On the other it’s Hitler’s last, best ploy. He doesn’t
seek to destroy us physically any more, but from within, to eviscerate us, to
drag us silenced into historical oblivion.
“I am the symbol of your
historic suffering,” he gloats, “without me you don’t exist.”
storyline is simple.
Hitler’s double died in 1945, not he. Now, in the
twilight of his life, Hitler is in Israel, here, with us, to explain himself and
hopefully to be killed.
Yes, Urian tends to overact.
not-so-subtle suggestion that within us all there lurks a Hitler, that Israel
has become the new master-race with übermensch pretensions is, shall we put it
politely, more than unfortunate, but by and large I’ll go with the “last best
Why? Because respected theater practitioner Urian
is neither shallow nor vulgar, but Herr Schickelgrüber (and Hitler abhorred
being reminded of the name he was born with), was both.
sees us as we see him, “just people,” he rambles and raves, he slobbers and
jerks, he exhorts and pleads, he’s “just human” like the rest of us. But a
humanized monster is still a monster.
Toward the end, Urian opens his
mouth in a huge, silent scream. It’s like Edvard Munch’s famous painting, a
depiction of primal fear or anguish. It’s like an opening into Dante’s Hell –
“Abandon hope all ye that enter here.”
If you’re prepared to have mind
and soul battered, then Hitler
is a show to see.