Once Upon a Time in Nazi Occupied Tunisia review: an exasperating 150-minute misfire

This meandering, clever-dick comedy about Nazism constantly undercuts horror with glib jokes
Pierro Niel-Mee and Adrian Edmondson in Once Upon a Time in Nazi Occupied Tunisia
Marc Brenner
Nick Curtis @nickcurtis27 August 2021

This black comedy by Josh Azouz about Nazism, Arab-Jewish relations, violence and betrayal, is exasperating. Horror is relentlessly undercut by trivial digressions and glib jokes. Eleanor Rhode’s production feels deliberately arch and superficial. Such juxtapositions are fine if they work, but this show mostly sits there, misfiring for 150 minutes.

A shame, because the subject matter is fascinating. Max Johns’ plywood set is pleasing. And there’s a compelling central performance from Adrian Edmondson – using a stick last night after a knee injury - that captures the banality of evil, which seems to be the central point.

Youssef, an Arab, and Victor, a Jew, are friends. But under the Nazi occupation of Tunis in 1943, Victor is buried up to his neck in the blazing sun in a labour camp, and Youssef – collaborating on a promise of future independence – has been told to urinate on him. Victor, humming cheerfully, treats this as a massive joke. And so it goes.

Ethan Kai and Pierro Niel-Mee
Marc Brenner

Edmondson’s ageing Nazi officer (nicknamed Grandma, because he knits) decorously attempts to violate Victor’s wife Loys but she thwarts him by combatively debating him, then feeding him sleeping pills. Though wildly improbable, this is the one moment of authentic peril, thanks largely to Edmondson’s grisly parody of bonhomie.

Otherwise the show is an endless process of smart-arse misdirections. Threatened with immediate death, Vincent and Loys witter about rearranging the shed, or bicker about marital problems and infidelity. There are long speeches about the historic persecution of Jews, a prefiguring of Israel’s suppression of Palestinians, and an aside about the annoying-ness of tapas.

None of this sounds like real dialogue but these are puppets rather than characters. Rhode has her actors speak in their own accents, which adds another layer of distraction. I’d bet good money that both she and Azouz were inspired by Bertolt Brecht’s ‘distancing effect’, a concept that’s mistakenly pressed into service almost as often as Magna Carta.

I don’t think any subject should be taboo for humour or drama. Equally, I don’t think we need a meandering, affectless, clever-dick comedy to tell us that prejudice, rape, murder, and colonialism are bad. And right now, with the world on fire, such a comedy feels in exceptionally poor taste.

To 18 Sept, almeida.co.uk

Create a FREE account to continue reading

eros

Registration is a free and easy way to support our journalism.

Join our community where you can: comment on stories; sign up to newsletters; enter competitions and access content on our app.

Your email address

Must be at least 6 characters, include an upper and lower case character and a number

You must be at least 18 years old to create an account

* Required fields

Already have an account? SIGN IN

By clicking Create Account you confirm that your data has been entered correctly and you have read and agree to our Terms of use , Cookie policy and Privacy policy .

This site is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged in