Man to Man ★★★★

For The Royal Court’s 70th Anniversary run, Tilda Swinton returns to her role as Ella/Max in East German playwright Manfred Karge’s one-woman play ‘Jacke wie Hose’, or ‘Man to Man’ in Anthony Vivis’ translation. Director Stephen Unwin and designer Bunny Christie revisit their original production roles too, 39 years later. ‘Man to Man’ will transfer to the Berliner Ensemble, Brecht’s theatre company and Karge’s theatrical birthplace, before its transfer to NYC in 2027.

‘Man to Man’ is an expository monologue about a woman in 1930s Germany, grieving her husband Max. At the beginning of the play, we hear about the Golden Years, about Cabaret and the relief that came with the end of the First World War, tied in with a perfect romance. For 85 minutes straight, Ella’s wit and optimism slowly decline as she lives and grieves through decades: from the Third Reich; into the Cold War; to the fall of the Berlin Wall. At the centre of the production, Tilda Swinton acts with a frightening gentility as Ella reluctantly performs masculinity in a war-torn Germany, stealing her dead husband’s identity in order to survive alone. She adopts his job as a crane operator, spending her evenings in the pub to perform her manhood. When war breaks out, she must become an SA soldier. She’s unable to join the German Army because ‘How could I pass the medical?’ Her sex would be revealed, and she would be punished. For a story so brutally real and naturalistic, the execution falls nothing short of absurd. Originally, Ella puts on her husband’s trousers and never removes them, but Swinton wears bright red boxers for the majority of the show. Throughout the play, every detail is shocking.

Bunny Christie’s set is about as messy, isolating and symbolic as Karge’s text itself. In an (off) white box, Swinton navigates rusty chairs of several sizes, frequently circling back to a dirty fridge for a can of Tennents or a Haribo, or delicately pressing play on a worn radio to cue Elena Peña’s authentic wartime waltzes. Ella resides in a shabby apartment with never-ending neighbourly noise humming underneath her loneliness. Visually and sonically, Man to Man is spectacular. In all its grit and rawness, it feels significant to the brutal reality of this historical period, and relevant to Hitler’s inflated economy – nothing has any value; therefore, everything does. From smearing ketchup on the walls to the noise of reverbed army boots squeaking around the stage, Man to Man is a sensory explosion.

Despite the occasional Cold War agitprop as a nod to Brecht’s theatrical style, the play is not entirely bothered with party politics or ethical questions, but explores the intricacies of being a woman under fascist powers. There is a moment where Swinton cradles a pillow underneath her vest, legs sprawled in front of a heat lamp on the floor, which illuminates her face in a warm but ghoulish glow. She groans and begs, expressing grief for herself and her womanhood. She desires a baby, yearns for the pain and warmth of reproduction, before the moment ends and the pillow is cast aside, then underneath her. ‘Much better between my thighs than under my shirt’, Swinton grunts. Her delivery is painfully witty. Stephen Unwin’s direction is well-executed at times like this. The rhythm and pacing of the play are faultless, attaining the necessary balance between light and dark.

However, it feels as if there is a slight disconnect between the production’s shocking visuals and the text’s expository feel. Man to Man is not a piece of political theatre that poses a direct question, or something to agree or disagree with, which is why some parts feel disengaging despite a fantastic production otherwise. Karge writes a stream of consciousness, an insight into the life of this mysterious and possibly real woman; watching the play feels like reading a Virginia Woolf book; Orlando comes to mind. Swinton actually played the titular character in the 1992 screenplay!

Anyway, Man to Man is a beautifully told story; one just wonders how to engage with the material if there isn’t a direct political point to take a stance on. It’s very powerful, but lacks anything to really chew on during your watch. Prepare for a character exploration rather than a revolution-starter. However, indirectly, the play still lays out the horrors of Hitler’s Germany and the lasting effects of war. The fact that it’s being revised now is perhaps a statement in itself. A reminder of what has come before, and a cue that we’re heading in the same direction. For this, the production is refreshing, absurd and very exciting.