King Ubu is the touchstone of modern theatre, during the period of great Krakow-walking we could see at least six versions of it, the latest time in the Secret Flat, which can be found above the legendary “The Á mustn’t be”, we are sitting wild by spicy tea between the mountains of unsent newspapers of Newspaper Publisher Company. The characters are recklessly slipping and climbing between the piles of newspapers, they are doing so-called macula tours, while they are fulfilling the whole programme. But how many things those loads of newspapers can be used! They can form moustache, beard, hat, they can dress up and cover, they can be cut by scissors, they can be torn fast, so they can be eaten with full mouth!

While Papa Ubu is eating the paper dinner, he and the whole company are swallowed down by the bottomless stomach of the paper monster by Kamilla Fátyol.

Zoltán Balázs’ staging overtakes the usual ones a lot: he builds his troupe consciously from performance to performance, all of their performances are a final exam of a term in university – he brings up the actors’ creative power, he writes script, but the parts are written by the actors. And what a perfect string quartet play music here! By the cello, Zsolt Páll performs the granite base of the volume of a czar, but meanwhile he is performing the teenager Boggerlas too nicely and his other seven roles – Ádám Tompa looks dully on his viola, he is the Peasant, the perky knight of Captain Bordure, King Wenceslas, who is crowned in a dental way and he talks lispingly. Next to her brutalist husband, the enchanting Mama Ubu is a second violinist: Zoltán Lendváczky can certifies without any funny patterns, with total transformation. He does not give up his male nature, which he can use well as a BloodyBear.

The primary, the First between the Equal Ones is Ákos Orosz, his figure makes Jarry-land the world of the ten thousand gag. For all his words, he has a gesture, for all his movements his mimics doubled, he supports Papa Ubu with excellent agility, he is grotesque and naughty absurd. He sparkles with uncountable liveliness, dug up until his waist in half a square metres – he breaks and ruins, destroys and humiliates, he gets hits too – he stands against them in a heroic way the viewers do against the endless lines of brilliant jokes too.

We guarantee that all performances will be different, the performance is a fiercely pulsating living creature, which can fulfil itself during continuous improvement, changing. Let’s put the Polish flag with an eagle with two heads on the top of Maladype Base, the Papa came, saw and won, Ubu: - He has become a King!

White Elephant, Kulturális Ajánló, 2009

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

The Maladype has been searching for its place since its formation – now in the physical meaning of the word. The beginning homelessness, after the long flat-share in Bárka Theatre, and next to the latest presence in Thália, they have opened their own Base in a flat in the centre. For the official opening of the new performing place, the troupe has chosen Alfred Jarry’s King Ubu.

The King Ubu, which was grown of from a brutally sarcastic horrific student trick by Alfred Jarry, in the performance of Maladype, loses its cloth, which the world literature and theatre literature latter appreciation have put on it (that theatrical and stage generated elevation, seriousness of the even absurd, surreal quality), and it steps out of the theatrical surrounding and becomes a fantasy of students, in Zoltán Balázs’ staging King Ubu is an aggressive, wilful group’s of children’s afternoon play – and it can emphasize the special eventuality of the dramaturgy of the play, and the fantasy, cruel and childishly mad, nature of the action.

However, the director does not leave the understanding of the conception on chance (as before the beginning of the performance he roughly interprets it by telling it to the viewers), the great amounts of symbols are not hard to understand too. The presently artistically passive Maladype member, Kamilla Fátyol’s costumes are all sematic and over stressed childish clothes, the actors use only those tools, which are necessary in school (wooden sticks, glue, tape) but the actors can imitate in children’s unmistakable way the sounds of explosions or the fighting. Besides all these Balázs rapidly emphasizes that this is the pre-figuration of “boyish” rough game: Zoltán Lendváczky performs all female roles, who is put in the mother’s dress, which is too big and always slides down.

A huge pile of newspapers rules the corner room of the flat-base, which is for performances (it was also designed by Kamilla Fátyol); the more than hundreds of packages of newspapers surround a narrow hole – this space, which is about one or one and half square metres big, in which Ákos Orosz, who performs Ubu, can move. During the almost two hours, he never climbs out of it, either he is in the sea or on the throne, or in battle according to the text, and his closeness can help more than anything else to place the performance: however, Ubu here does not move anywhere in the real space – the place of all movements and actions is his own inner, mental space. It can represent well the position of the king, of the self-centred child, who can move the play-actions with his thoughts, as the world goes around him by word too. The pile of newspapers itself (which besides itself can stands for food, and from it the actors eat many papers, which can be enough for many days) and it is the most interesting symbol of all: it can make us remember the newspaper collections from schools, but the information written in newspapers can help the children’s imagination – in connection with it, we can see that demagogue thesis as symbol, according to which, the Ubu-like human type does not live on just in theatres, but newspapers are full of with these Ubu-like people types. Zoltán Balázs anyway builds in the present sometimes into his absolute ageless performance: the actors sometimes read up some news, all the Polish nobles have their names from the characters of newspapers.

From all these it can be obvious, that in the Papa Ubu by Maladype, there is nothing from the conventional (if it exists) Ubu performing, from the overweight, burping-cursing ugly something – Ákos Orosz performs mostly a naughty, spoiled child. This childish nature is true for the other three actors too in on a smaller scale – Zsolt Páll’s performance is more varied, complex partly because the roles, which he plays are more mature too; Lendváczky and Ádám Tompa perform, that they play roles, and the help with it Orosz’s performance. And however, they can do it all through the performance, this type of playing style is not always suitable to keep the attention up – especially because the performance and the text too sometimes would need to be cut. That way, the performance and the text sometimes make each other weaker, and it annoyingly breaks the flow of the performance too.

Zoltán Balázs has perfectly felt the nature of world, which can be matched to Jarry maximally, and with good ideas fulfils it consistently – with it he can create a very valid interpretation in most of its elements. Its validity cannot make easily acceptable or immediately enjoyable the performance, and Jarry’s special world is just partly the reason of it. The overall picture can be made better – its continuous performing will help to unify the levels of quality.

Báling Kovács, Kultúra.hu, 2010

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

Maladype has not kept for weeks the secret of the performance, to be able to start the premiere with surprises: anybody can visit the process of rehearsals. The King Ubu is not performed on the stage, but in a flat, on the piles of newspapers in the corner. The troupe de-theatricalize and makes theatre too.

The Maladype on a new base, at the 2 of Mikszáth Square, not many things make us remember a theatre: it is like we are arriving as guests for the newest performance of the troupe, for the premiere of the King Ubu. Hi, terrible ones! – Zoltán Balázs, the director greats us, as a host in the cosy flat. On the holders there are coats of a party, in the room a nice warmth of a home, in the light of the lamps of the streets, there is snowing. The informal start is going on in Balázs’ introduction, which can ease two kinds of anxieties by viewers too. On one side, the director tells some sentences about his conception (that he treats King Ubu as a student trick now), so the viewers do not have to worry, that they would stay alone during the process of interpretation of the performance. On the other hand, the host adds to it fast, that the small intimate space of the room does not serve the viewers’ involvement.

On a part of the viewers can be seen well, that they move familiarly in the space of the performance: from some of their bags, an Ubu book is out, they listen to other things and other ways, some jokes seem to be inner ones. The rehearsals of King Ubu were going on in front of the viewers and with their involvement – it is another gesture of de-theatricalization, with the help of it the wall between the viewers and actors can be ruined down. According to the witnesses the initiation was very successful: the rehearsals had returning visitors and the performance has used many ideas by the viewers.

Fortunately, the sense of familiarity is not only the returning viewers’ privilege; the outsiders get something too from this freedom, and it remains all through the performance. The King Ubu by Maladype does not push us into the ground, and it main aim is not to make the viewers face up to themselves (the ugliest and most frightening versions of it), but to fascinate them with creative energy. Alfred Jarry’s play was originally written as a student joke to mock a teacher, and the Maladype emphasises now this part – that way he pulled out the poisonous tooth of King Ubu, and makes the performers loveable homo ludens, who gets the role of littler students, themselves too.

The performance consistently keeps the student-like context: as students from a boy grammar school entertain their classmates during the empty lessons. Ákos Orosz, Ádám Tompa and Zsolt Páll wear little-boy like shorts and suspenders (costume: Kamilla Fátyol). The actors can use very creatively the minimalised tool-bars of a technical class: newspapers, glue, scissors, tape. Ákos Orosz makes “false teeth” for himself from newspapers, when he steps on throne as a king, then he pins on wooden sticks the pieces of newspapers, which stand in for the killed nobles. His Ubu is wild and naughty boy anyway, who cannot leave even for a moment his self-centred world, from the middle of the newspaper-mountain. Orosz’s performance is so free, that he can reflect on his mistakes and even on the pimple on his forehead. Mama Ubu (Zoltán Lendváczky) pampers her husband with bites of newspapers, and he stands in the role of the wife (wives) and bear. Ádám Tompa and Zsolt Páll perform through virtuously the other roles – they assist almost with childish joy to their ruler’s game. It is indicated by newspaper moustache and hat if Ádám Tompa performs Captain Bordure. Zsolt Páll entertains the viewers and Ubu’s dinner guests with wooden sticks, which are put between his toes. He gives physical punishments too.

The location – the pile of newspapers in the corner of a room, as secondary grammar school boys enter the newspapers collecting warehouse of the school – it is a mountain to climb and explore and a calm island without the adults’ ordering glances. Through the newspapers the real world comes into the childish closed world: the performers grab many possibilities to read up a news summary instead of the original text of the play. The Polish noble people, who line up in front of King Ubu, are celebs, sportsmen, politicians’ pictures, which are torn from newspapers.

The performance of Maladype is a free spark of ideas, the appearance of limitless childish fantasy and creative energy.

Andrea Rádai, Revizoronline, 2010

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

The future caricature of the king is in the safety and captivity of a pile of newspapers, between news and fake news. Meanwhile Alfred Jarry’s play originally started as a trick about the annoying physics teacher.

But if we study the far and near history, we can call it ironic report, but even the documentary of real and unreal political actions too. According to all these Ubu is a really suitable ruler. He is cruel, demagogue, wants more, and knows quite well, that what is his aim. So, it can be a bloody drama too, but as he is a reprobate giant, during his fight for the great aim, he shows himself very silly, in reality all of it is a horrible great joke, which points over himself as the history has confirmed it.

The coup attempt happens on the Mikszáth Square, in the back room of the flat on the first floor, it is surrounded by words, connected by strings to the wall. Ákos Orosz, as Ubu can be hardly seen from the remaining newspapers of today, which are piled up as it is designed by Kamilla Fátyol, but he becomes a centre anyway. As the sun circle of a ruined universe he is sprawls half naked. It sometimes seems to be that gun would be given to a child’s hand, but then he steps out as the cold-blooded fulfiller of plans, which are found out cruelly. His only tool, which can be seen from the newspapers, is his face, but it is enough for him. He is on the point of source from the first moment, while his partners are doing a fantastic work, however they do not have any other things, just some torn pieces of papers, glue, string and scissors. And their creativity, the harmony and their overwhelming suitability. Zsolt Páll once is a convincing, huge little prince in a silly way, then he is the only one, who stands up against the usurper, but he is the whole society and the all the victims of the coup attempt too. Ádám Tompa as Captain Bordure is the traitor, then he is the disgraced pliancy, but he changes easily to any other eight roles, which have been given to him, with the help of a paper moustache, hat or a dental protector, which makes him lisping. Zoltán Lendváczky besides all these can take his obvious dancer-movement theatrical abilities as Mama Ubu, who is priggish and controls from the background, than as a wild bear, who is waiting for his victims. Papa Ubu can get to the throne of the imagined Poland on their backs with his cruel tools. The grotesque tale is about the story, who a coward, greedy anybody can become somebody, of whom everybody afraid.

Zoltán Balázs’ staging is a play, which always keeps in condition the actors’ brains, sometimes it is creative improvisation, other times with punctually made choreography. The result becomes really valuable, but not always followable or entertaining, that they accept joke totally jokes, while the story is slowly formed about a changing of reign and about the “acceptable” loss, which comes with it. Other merit of the Maladype is their team work, from which the personal performances can shine, the love of play, and that in the end the real theatre can be born. It seems to be easy, as a fake-Polish coup, however it is similarly difficult. It is pearl, which can be shiner somewhere, between the pigs.

Krisztina Szepesi, Pesti Műsor, 2010

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

The art and mass understanding are so different phrases that if you like it, we made a mistake in case of King Ubu, when we went against directly the viewers. They became angry, because they understood too well, what was told to them.”

Alfred Jarry wrote all of it in 1896 in the Theatrical questions, in his art-poetical like article, and as I am reading these lines, I must agree with them: it is a many times repeated cliché, according to it the writer was before his own time, but now it must be taken seriously.

Papa Ubu is a legend, with an exciting previous life and a noisy after life. “Ubu is the atomic bomb of art” – as a French critic wrote it in 1965. Ubu is such an emblematic figure as Hamlet or Don Juan are, but anyway he is totally different, as his far relatives, who can be called by names, as – Magdolna Jákfalvi, who translated the quote above. She is the theatre historian, who has dealt with Jarry and the Ubu-phenomenon deeply, mentioned – “...he creates a myth, but he himself has not become hero of stories any other time. Ubu is that type of dramatic figure, that has neither an author of its own nor permanent text.” (A. Jarry: The Ubus, Bp., Orpheusz Kiadó, 1996, page 227.)

We cannot mention many figures from the drama literature of the world, who has an almost complete but continuously changing legend before their first forming, so before their first appearance on stage. Jarry’s immortal figure, King Ubu may be the most well-know one of the few existing, and here we do not have to think about the many times quoted real source. According to it the highly imaginative students of the secondary grammar school of Rennes, did not have to support a lot to make parodies of their hated physic teacher, Monsieur Félix-Frédéric Hébert, who has bizarre physical characteristics. According to the sources the students got most of the inspiration from his enormous nose, and giant stomach. Drawings, tales, shorter and longer texts, true (ok, almost true) stories appeared about his characteristic figure, and as Mister Hébert’s concrete physical characteristics became less stressed than the possibilities with Rabelais nature in it, his unbelievable figure went through a viewable metamorphosis. Pictures were born from the words, from the puppet were made, from where it is only a step to put him on stage by real human performers.

In our case it has become more steps, as a thin month before the premiere of the drama in Paris, it could not be known, that who would play the title role. Jarry solved bravely the professional actors’ serious hesitation, between the others, because of Papa Ubu first speech (“merdre”, so “shit” by word), which later got theatrical historian importance, when he put on stage next to the actors civilian people, who he invited in from the street. As a courteous (and sarcastic) author, he gave a manual too to his nonsense play: in black cyclist-dress, his hair was stuck to his head, with white painted face, in front of the curtain he read up his study about the nature of Ubu, which he had already given to the viewers in the hall. The viewers of the dress rehearsal accepted for a long time the performance, which was talking about familiar (as it was very similar to some scenes of Shakespeare, Corneille, Molière and Racine’s dramas) topics in an unusual language and form, but during the third act the scandal begun. The naturalist André Antoine found loudly offensive, when Ubu turned a key in an open armed helper’s stomach, and the man let down his arms to it, to indicate an open door. Firmin Gémier, who was Papa Ubu, learnt from the happenings, and on the premier the next day, he used the horn of an omnibus, to keep under his control the too loud viewers.

The most “key scene” would not rise much sensation on the stage today, as in case of amateur or student troupes’ performances much braver solutions can be seen. Then what did bring up a scandal in Paris at the turn of the century? Let’s think about it: it was not twenty years ago that Ibsen wrote the Nora or The Ghosts, in connection with these an everyday argument has started because of the ideas, which appeared on stage but had meant a taboo there so far. The shock was just going away, when came a man, named Jarry, who dealt with unnamed topics, and above all he served them pouring with cruel satire: King Ubu is digging on the huge rubbish heap of an irreal, illogical, absurd, un-understandable world. Against all appearance, it happens in a place, which has never existed anywhere, anytime (Poland is somewhere far away according to Jarry’s special etymology, which mixes the ancient Greek things with the French ones, and it means “somewhere far away”). It is cruelly funny, banal story according to some of its interpreters it makes parody of the northern people’s belief in greatness: after the great heroic acts here is the time of wild burlesque. It is not so nice to face up with it, as one of the critics of the drama, Louis Dumur wrote it: “Ubu is the deformed summary of all those meanness, vileness and disgusting cowardice, which the human-like animals of the society hide in themselves.”

And what is over the burlesque, so what does Ubu tell us here and now? Of course, according to time, regime, reigning direction of the wind and thousands of other definable and undefinable aspects, always other things. From now on, we can talk about two very different kinds of interpretations shortly from its national performing history, which is not too rich (about it you should see the already quoted study by Jákfalvi).

It sounds incredible, but the performance of the play in stone theatre happened only in 1984, in the József Katona Theatre: after it, Gábor Zsámbéki staging stayed on repertoire for almost a century, which had huge worldwide success by the viewers and critics. If we watch it again published on DV, it still catches our attention when Papa Ubu complains about the fact that he can see Russians everywhere. There was a great amount of system-critical in the performance, the director said it too on a viewers’ meeting in 2008: however, the Hungarian soft dictature did not adore the suspicious, irresponsible and bloodthirsty King Ubu, but after the two leaders of the Katona, Gábor Zsámbéki and Gábor Székely could calm down Mister Aczél, that their performance was not about the that time close to explode relationship of Poland and Russia, they got the permission. Of course, after the premiere the quoted line had to be eliminated – on the tv recording it was there, as in 1989 nobody was disturbed by it anyway...

László Sinkó and Juli Básti ugly, disgusting “pair of caretakers” are the very repulsive but irresistibly funny representatives of an era, of a feeling of life. Their desire for power, which eats up and vomits everybody, their old and intimate relationship that is kept by rude and common sexuality, their idea that all people can be used, torn, according to them they are useless puppets, is horrifying, and the situations, which are theatrical (are made to it) in an emphasized way, can give to the viewers the possibility of stylization and abstraction, which he desired so much.

The performance, which is on repertoire form more than two and half years, and more relaxed, uses it as a tool. This performance reacts and views its own time totally differently: the King Ubu, which is performed by Maladype Theatre, is a work by the director, Zoltán Balázs. Here everything comes from the space and the playing method of the young troupe. There is a huge pile of packages of newspapers in the corner of a room, only four actors perform the great amount of characters: with paper, scissors, glue, wooden sticks and with eternal ideas and wild playful mood. They do all of it with extraordinary energies, bravely and unscrupulously jumping on the border of the role and reality – they read up from the papers, which gets into their hands accidentally, they comment on news of that day, they react very fast, and of course, the connect the mythical figure of Ubu to the interesting and uninteresting reports of today.

Jarry’s figure started his world captivating way as a student joke, and in the performance of Maladype with its excellent rhythm, it can return back to the area of sources, which were made forgotten by the frightening Ubu figures of the dictatorships of the XX. century. We quote with agreement Péter Gál Molnár’s critic: “The Ubu on the Mikszáth Square is not about the political freedom. It is not even a patriotic act against canonised aesthetics. It is the ascension to throne of the playfulness, which has lost its chains, and of the free imagination, and of the artistic believable power.”

At the beginning of our article we have defined Jarry as a prophet, and when we read the end of his article, which we have quoted, out impression becomes a reality: one of the bravest forerunners of the theatrical ways of the XX. century, suggested with not a little irony his own long march together with many pitfalls, which on its own would last from the avant-garde till the mainstream.

First, he talks about those, “who are older than us”, so about his peers, who moved in traditional theatres well, but had a contradictory relationship with any new things: “Do not push them aside, as we have not been in the XVII. century anymore; we are waiting for their, according to themselves and to the ideas, which fill their lives, clever souls to stop (we do not expect any other things) and then we suddenly become serious and fat and Ubus, and after the writing of our books, which become traditional fast, we all become majors of towns, where at the time of our acceptance as professors, we are greeted with a Serves vase by the fire fighters, and we give to our children their moustaches on velvet cushion; then the young ones come, who find us really old fashioned, and they will write ballads to make us angry; and there is no reason to make it stop.”

Tamás Jászay, Ózon, 2011

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

Zoltán Balázs directed in the Gergely Csiky Governmental Hungarian Theatre in Temesvár such a strictly and punctually built performance (Return of Ulysses), in which theatre and opera were presented at the same time. The director’s career is impressive: he has studied from Robert Wilson, he took place in Josef Nadj and Anatolij Vasziljev’s workshops. He has directed theatre, puppet theatre, opera, performed on stage, and in films too. He has been the leader of the Maladype independent theatre in Budapest since 2003. I have seen four of their performances, if I need to describe the troupe according to these, I would mention the following things: openness, naturalness, pleasure for play and playfulness, lazy moving, fast reaction, sharp attention and artistic punctuality. The director mostly builds his performances on artistic freedom and the viewers’ involvements (many times the viewers are active participant of their performances). It is that kind of travelling, in which as a viewer you can feel yourself in a privileged position.

Alfred Jarry: King Ubu (d. Zoltán Balázs)

A huge mountain of newspapers in the corner of a room, serves as the place of the King Ubu; the performance is performed in the “base”, so in the home of Maladype. During the performance I could feel myself again in a privileged position, as they perform it for a handful group of people (in the tiny “room” only for forty people have enough place). The set is made of accumulated newspapers – Ubu’s world is pushed into the corner. The performance is colourful, as well as the actors’ colourful suspenders or their green, red, blue stocks. Ubu gets stuck in the middle of the pile of newspapers, he is hungry, so he is eating. He matched news to the food, he is fed by pieces of newspapers, from where he gets cut up news. The actors are fed by papers/information by word. His character is cunning, insatiable and playful. With the help of an “innocent” game, he tells the short story of cruelty: he lines up his victims, and then he either saves them or sticks them. The properties are made of staplers, string and glue – as a children game. They will cut out of fresh newspapers those, who they have to kill, so the viewers (who can watch how the world is demolished) can remember also their close past time. The King Ubu’s fast rhythm is increased by the four actors’ excellent performances, who can make the structure with its special tempo move more.

Daniela Magiaru, Orizont, 2010

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

King Ubu’s empire is a mountain of newspapers, and he is sitting in it covered by neck. He is in shit by his neck, while he is gossiping about this shit-like world, drooling the paint of newspapers in reality and the world, which can be read from them.

The actors are singing the Duo of Cats by Géza Hofi and János Koós, followed by their impish blinks as a prologue for the play by Jarry. However, it can create the basic mood of the performance, the director’s possible aim – according to which in this song Hofi and Koós’ personalities can “get together” as much as Papa Ubu and Mama Ubu’s do it – does not got any more concrete interpretation.

Zoltán Balázs’ staging of King Ubu is a really static one: the space of the performance, which is performed in the Maladype Base, is made of packs of newspapers: in the corner of the stage-room there is a huge, top of mountain of newspapers. The four male actors perform all the roles of the play. King Ubu (Ákos Orosz) while he is calling everything to be a shit, he is standing by his neck in the “dug” hole in the side of the mountain, the other three characters are dividing the space by forming a triangle. Lendváczky Zoltán, who performs mostly Mama Ubu is sitting on the top, the other two characters (for example Zsolt Páll in the role of Boggerlas and the Officers, Ádám Tompa in the roles of Captain Bordure and Councilors) are at the two foot of the mountain.

Papa Ubu lives through all of his adventures in his own hole, he does not move, sometimes he dives to get another toy. The other three characters sometimes climb up and down or crawl to him or if they need they would fight figuratively with one another. The dynamic of the performance is not hidden in the movements, but mostly in the telling and performing of the text: the expression of “sitting on edges” here means the same, the back of Mama Ubu is stuck by wooden sticks by Papa Ubu from underside, the other expression of “we can do it as well as a hitting on a circle” means the physical hitting on the circle of the tape. The abstract expressions get their own place, to the real ones usually there is a reference by a mocked scale of movements: the queen’s running is a good example for it, who moves her leg fast while laying on her son’s lap.

This special abstract world is strengthened by performing possibilities, which are hidden in the mountain of newspapers: the continuous mining, the finding of newer and newer properties. This world and its material – the newspaper – can give tools to reach any aims: Papa Ubu pushes it all the time into his mouth, a piece of paper can become the stolen baked slice of veal, the rat stew and other kind of foods too. But from these newspapers, shako, armour hat, a horse can be made too and then they can use them as puppets. King Vencel’s two sons are made of two packets of newspapers, and the competitor runners will be made of chain figures that have been cut of newspapers and thread on a string. The associative chains of the news of papers can actualize the performance: from time to time, according to the context they show up headlines, maybe with some politicians on the “picture”. Meanwhile between the executed nobles “there is” the “momentary caught” Simicskó too (maybe as the result of the improvisation of that day). But not to get too deep into the political references, between the next names we can find Meryl Streep or Federere, and a ghost of hospital appears too. Or: at the reference to the poor ones, appears an article, which enlists the politicians’ financial statements.

The performance is built on the stable mountain of doubtful articles, the whole world is based on the shit around us, Ubu is in it by his neck: he believes anything, which can be good for him. He symbolizes the values in a different way too: the King’s crown is a dental crown, which Ubu with greedy simplicity grabs from his ancestor’s, from Vencel’s mouth after his murdering, and at the same time fixes it into his own. The self-crowned King talks as the small mice of the cartoon (or if like it as Hofi and Koós). Ubu is a real creature of instincts, he does not have a real self-portrait, which he would like to live up to, but he listens to the impulses of his greed. The newspapers around him, in contrast to it, shows a world, which is shared to labelled roles, he believes in it too, as he cannot see above these. He does not even want to. The politicians and other celebs, who appear in the news of newspapers, accidentally mentioning can be similar to the moment when Ubu got to power: the coward man, who lives according to his deformed instincts and violence, gets to throne as an accidental happening, as an appearing news of paper, and then loses it with the same speed. He is turned by some kind of political and social wheel of fortune, as the “reality”, which is “shown” in the newspaper, and put together as a wallpaper of news.

We can feel anyway that the performance does not want to move in any political direction. It is the parody of parody anyway, where the pictures of actual social life serve just as the source of humour. We laugh because as we can see through Ubu’s glasses, to tell it by everyday words, our own misery.

Alfred Jarry’s was once born as the developed version of students’ tricks. Zoltán Balázs must have followed this kind of methods of creation too: the actors, in the well bordered and hardly recognizing space, in the most variable ways, would make scales of tricks, well-seemingly they enjoy it. And if the game goes too far, then they call from their role, that “well we should not do it”. By words to light fire above the newspapers, and to fire up this world of shit.

Ágnes Bakk, Ellenfény, 2010

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

The King Ubu, Alfred Jarry student trick, which has been ennobled to a classical play, it is an sharp-tongued impudence with the rogues of the world, it pillorizes the bossy ones with witty impudence. If we like it, it is a political blasphemy, it is an elfish sticking of tongue, which had a great scandal even at the time of its premiere in 1896, and there have been many scandals since then after its performances.

There will not be any scandals after this performance of Maladype Theatre. The performance is a nicer one, that it would cause wounds by its harsh nature. It is enviably full of fantasy, but it is not murderously aggressive. It is similar to children, who are playing in the sand, who have already had the ability of aggressiveness, they would play to be a murder, but the emphasis is still on the game, hopefully they will not hit anybody to death. But this „hopefully” means, that we cannot exclude it at all. The performance of Maladype is good because they do not exclude totally the possibility of it. The viewers’ feeling of danger remains here. No matter how intimate the welcoming in the new and perfect home of Maladype, in a cosy flat of two hundred and twenty square metres, on the Mikszáth Square, because of the closeness of the performers, we can think about that they would take a little care of us too.

Kamilla Fátyol the designer of set, has built up a great pile from packs of newspapers, it sometimes seems to be a castle, which is there to stand against its captivating, it is similar to the brave-heart Ubu’s guarded headquarters, but as it is not made of stones, but of easily destroyed papers, it is funny as a bastion, it makes those vulnerable, who try to barricade themselves behind it. Above it, the characters tear out some parts of the newspapers, they make hats of them, or even paper army, some puppets, which can be torn apart, or turn them into balls and stuff into their mouth, as the newspapers would be nice food. So these remainder packs can be used for anything, they show that what seemed to be vitally important yesterday, can be so forgettable little thing today.

The members of Maladype, which has become one of the most exciting troupe of the national theatrical life, always fall in love with some kind of material, object and they organise their performance around it. In case of Leonce and Lena they built a castle of bamboo sticks, or even road, and they used the sticks as costumes too, In case of Egg(s)Hell the stage was full of human sized flamingo puppets, they were sets and vivid partners at the same time. In Lorenzaccio the visual world was defined by red gloves, their colour referred to the blood flow of the play, and of course, they could kill with their help. The newspaper is good because it can be used according to its original function, sentences can be read from them, its photos can be shown to the audience. This is one of the most stunning parts of the performance. In front of Ákos Orosz, who performs King Ubu, articles are put accidentally, freshly torn out of magazines, on which there are huge photos of celebs.

They are stuck on skewers as nobles to be killed, and some comments are improvised to it. A showman, a sportsman, a young actor also get their own. Other articles are mentioned all the time, so the careful improvisation cannot missed any time. The improvisation is a returning element in the troupe’s life, in Egg(s)Hell they had to perform a moving theatre on music, which maybe have not been heard in any performances. It is not a new element, that actors play more roles.

Now four of them perform that many figures. Ákos Orosz does not need to be stuffed to make him a fat dictator. He has his own rolls of fat. And for it he has enchanting projecting ears, and maliciously smiling face. Zoltán Lendváncky performs Mama Ubu. He is not a priggish imitator of a woman, he does not make his voice unrealistically thin, but he shows Mama Ubu’s dangerous moody nature, and her strongly influential abilities. Only men actors perform Ubu now. I have seen this performance only with men, in the Csillagbörtön in Szeged, mostly life sentenced men and killers performed it shockingly. They performed in it their vulnerability against the guards, their own sins, their hopeless situation, their lack of women. And while they were in all of it, they could see themselves sarcastically and with good humour. Maybe they could live on, that they made theatre with incredibly physical and mental energies. I rarely felt, that a performance could be so important. As Ubu was that important in Puck Puppet Theatre in Kolozsvár, when for the first time in Romania, during the dictatorship, the fantastic Ildikó Kovács put it on stage, that Papa Ubu appeared as real human beings as some kind of giants, and he could hit and kill according to his mood, the miniature marionette puppets, their subjects. At the time of Ceausescu it was obvious, that what the performance was about, which when the Free Radio of Europe announced, that a brave group of actors were still performing the Ubu in Kolozsvár, it was banned, then they renewed it after the revolution.

The performance of Maladype has not been about so deeply the questions of existence. It lets the actors free. They can do it as they would like to. They have already had their tools. In case of early staging by Zoltán Balázs I felt the opposite of it. That he works with drill, he trains the actors, he hit in them what he wants, they are beautiful and full of movements, they are similar to ceremonies, but they are monotonous many times, they are a little bit lifeless, he performed well over thought performances. I have admired them, but I did not love, and many times I got bored with them. Meanwhile I have to realise, that the hard process of work has trained the actors well, it has solved their fears, and Balázs himself has given up his burdens of proof. He dares to play while staging. Or just to play. But many times he becomes autotelic. And he relies more on his partners. On the other two actors, Ádám Tompa and Zsolt Páll, who perform in the Ubu, he calmly put great weights. He makes them sweat, but the performance does not have any smell of sweating. Self-forgetfulness flows from it. The joy of the fact that they can freely joke around too. It is not a big problem, if the rhythm is not always the best, some empty positions are formed, than the immersion comes into it again.

I am not so shocked by this Ubu as by the one in Kolozsvár or in the prison. But while it can show, what a mixture it is, in which we are living, and draw a clinical picture of the natural history of human vileness, it does not make us feel miserable, it gives us the joy of life. It fills us with energy. It gives meaning to theatre.

Gábor Bóta, Népszava, 2009

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

The flat theatre of Maladype is a place with theatrical scent. There is a cash desk behind the small counter in the hall, the three rooms, which can be opened into one another (too) is the space of theatre, and the kitchen part can be the changing room, I think so. The walls of the corner flat on the first floor on the Mikszáth Square are not black, its windows are not covered, the light is on all through the performance – so the birth of theatre can be entrusted to the performers and us.

In 2009, it happened that they performed – still not here – the “student parody” of King Ubu by Alfred Jarry, in which the main attraction was the burlesque style with its incredible tempo, without any breaks, which would rise up, which collects different ideas. So how long and how can the actors show, or even par excellence increase the formation or penetration of madness; how can they handle the difficulty of the pieces of papers from piles, from which they would organise the formation of forms and situations; and anyway, how can they drive themselves and their viewers through the laugh physically and with humour. Well, they do it perfectly – but I would mention this performance not because of it. But because during this two and half years they have been connected together, but as the result of the four actors’ (Ákos Orosz, Zoltán Lendváczky, Ádám Tompa and Zsolt Páll) performances, we can see a permanently fresh and powerful production, which froze the laugh to our throat not only once. Zoltán Balázs’ staging – it is visual now – is well worked out and meaningful punctually during the current comedy. The intoxication of power, which turns into delusion of laugh can become a modern documentary-drama now based on Jarry’s play, the performance is inventive and punchy, it is a meaningful comment to the social situation of our everyday life.

But in reality, I would like to write about The Marriage of Figaro by Beaumarchais – but it is good to draw those people’s attention to the fact, who know Maladype and those who have not, that the troupe performed their newer and older performances too on the flat of Mikszáth Square. Beaumarchais’ Figaro is a comedy, we know it: but that how much it is, we can learn from the staging by Sándor Zsótér, from a hand long distance from us. We can learn, that comedy on its own, has an “inside”, so it is coloured not by the tragic shade but by the immanent comedic thoughts. Especially after that, Júlia Ungvár, the dramaturg not only cuts but writes over the text into a “flat theatre”.

I was afraid of (as I do not like interactive theatre, more punctually if I get involved in it), the fact, that once a character would step to me, and asks something. But it has happened just once, when Ákos Orosz, who performed Figaro, warned the two boys, who were sitting thirty centimetres from him, to stop talking, because they were annoying him. Yes, he did. He did not tear away the theatrical “curtain”, just rise attention to the natural sharing of work: I perform, you watch. This is the rule.

Between the minimal possibilities of all weight and exercise all exercises are pushed on the actors – the set is the room itself, the middle room, in which we are sitting, and the two smaller ones, which are opened from it, we can watch into them. Mária Ambrus has some work with it too.

As Mari Benedek does with the strongly eclectic costumes: training shoes and long night dress – all from the torn version – the actors are performing in the dresses between them and the way of wearing them is strongly connected to the costumes, which is the artistic performance itself, anyway.

Figaro by Ákos Orosz, he is not that kind of subject, he has known many things of life, by the time, he gets to Almaviva’s side, so suspicion is in his blood. And the knowledge, that who is suspicious, they can be cheated. And the fight, that this cannot happen to him too. But we can guess, that it can happen anytime, we can see it from the gestures of his bride, the wise Susanne, who is performed by Erika Tankó. Zsótér “helps” his actors with the punctual interpretation: he matches the figures, and not only the couples, however it is the most obvious in case of them: besides these in case of the relationship of Almaviva (Ádám Tompa), who performs the womanizer mostly for himself, not live it over truly, and the Countess (Judit Kovács Ligeti), who gets a little bit resignedly bored of her husband’s childish nature. Cherubin’s (Zénó Fagaró) genre is the childish flaming – it is obvious that he will have a hard fate next to Fanchette (Kamilla Fátyol), who get along well by her nature in the mazes of life.

So here the women are stronger (however it does not make them happier) – and the Mari Törőcsik’s Marcellina is here too.

No, she does not stretch out the walls of flat theatre, and no, she does not perform Marcellina into the middle of the place. Anyway, she is the engine of the performance, as she is almost moving the woman on an unimaginably wide scale in her scenes: the seducer, the intriguer, the peeved, the one, who is begging, the winner, the mother, the resigned one, and even the acquiescent one. Her changes and waves can effect not only the viewers but her partners too: they go on with her.

In case of the night scene, not only that means the pleasure that the cheated men walk in the trap. But – and it can be seen really well from that close – the way as they cannot see it and each other so much. However – in blue, so with a changed lighting but – there is light. And we can change our points of view actively: now we can see it, as we are the viewers, now we cannot, as we are Almaviva. And at the time of clapping we realise, that it is so much that way. Can you see, or cannot – well, you can!

Judit Csáki, Magyar Narancs, 2012

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)

Some years ago an interesting Hamlet was performed in Bárka Theatre, with the guest staging of an English man. They asked the viewers then to bring some objects with themselves, which the actors can use during the performance. At the beginning of the performance the actors decided by a draw, who would play which role during the performance (only Hamlet’s role was constant), and the point, where the given act was going on in the space, filled with viewers. An incredible artistic performance was necessary during the performances, which were built on the great number of improvisations and interactions between the viewers and actors, as the actors were working with fixed text and story, but they were improvising continuously in their play with the objects, which the viewers brought with them. They were fighting with salty sticks like swords, they drank Unicum, they prayed for toy bears, or they chose themselves a fat, muscular, black or bearded viewers on behalf of some lines of the texts, all performances were different, but the performance still remained the same.

I noticed Zoltán Balázs there, as the constant Hamlet of this series, who performed with such convincing power, overwhelming drive and genius improvisation, that I clapped my palm bloody, in spite of the fact that he could embarrass me successfully as a viewer in front of two hundred people during one of the interactions.

So this Zoltán Balázs now leads the Troupe of Maladpye, where he has taken too this kind of playful theatre, which is built on tight communication inside the troupe and with the viewers too, and he stuck his incredibly energy on the other members too. As the part of the competition program he has brought to Pécs their interpretation of King Ubu, which represents this line too. The performance, which is performed by four half naked men, has smashing power by words: the members perform with such empathy and drive, that I get tired concretely on a chair behind the last row, where the director himself watches the performance with widely opened eyes, he claps, whistles, laughs or even shakes his head at some parts, according to his evaluation.

With this enormous, stressing, almost unacceptable drive they take some newish thing into the well-known story, and then I have not mentioned yet the set of piles of newspapers, which makes me remember a dump, where they are running like mice, if they do not eat regularly the slimy balls or read and build in the story the information on any papers. I would also emphasize the two best of the performance, Ákos Orosz (Papa Ubu) and Zoltán Lendváczky (Mama Ubu, with a face structure, which is similar a little bit to Jim Carrey), who may have lost as many calories during the performance as Gebrselassie did on Marathon in London.

The viewers loved the performance in spite of the 40 degrees Celsius and the 90% humidity of smelly body odour, they clapped standing, while we were going out, we ran up to the crowd of more thousands people assaulting the theatre, who wanted to get into the Kockavető in the evening – while I was thinking about that the POSZT has seemingly grown of the place, we turned towards the lines of sausages, which were similar to a crowd of market in front of the ancient Christian tombs, in hope to get refilled with some calories.

yossarian, POSZT honlap, 2010

(translated by: Veronika Fülöp)