So what did YOU think about Threepenny?

Philippe is damn cute. He's tall and slim, has sharp features, and sandy brown hair. He's rather shy and speaks with a soft German accent.

He also intimidates the Hell outta' me.

All of the Germans here intimidate me, and for no good reason. That reason: my own inferiority complex. The American Studio at MXT is, in my mind, a bit of a summer camp when compared to the four year MXT traning program. "How do they view us?" is a constant question in my head. Having Thomas Ostermeier's students here, even if for a week, only adds to the questioning.

Can we compete? Can American talent and culture adequately compare to Europe, our literary and dramatic ancestor? Do we know enough? Our nation is notorious for having fat stupid children, many of whom have never read any aspect of our own literary heritage, let alone the global one. This psychological inferiority complex leaps to the forefront of my thoughts whenever I meet a German or a Russian -- do they think I'm dumb?

Tonight I think I held my own. I think. Us four American dramaturgs were sent to see KИЖЗ (I think that's how you spell it in Cyrillic -- in English it would be KIJE, pronounced KEE-ZHAY), directed by Kirill Serebrennikov. Kirill also directed Threepenny Opera. When we got back to the dorm, I went into the kitchen to enjoy a beer and some cheese and found Rachel and Philippe talking about KИЖЗ (which he had seen the prior evening).

The conversation ranged from opinions on visual asethetics to whether the scene that was in German really in German (it wasn't -- it was Russified German, and a cartoon of Emmanuel Kant), or what was the story that was communicated to you, and other topics. Rachel and Philippe talked, I listened.

The topic turned to Threepenny. Were there any unifying qualities that made the productions "Serebrennikov?" I think Rachel was right: there were (to my eye: the wide open space, tracking platforms, incorporation of the orchestra at different moments, and some other images were common to both productions). As Philippe pointed out, it is difficult to define aesthetic based on two productions; but, there were some striking similarities.

And then I asked a question: if Philippe thought the production of Threepenny "served" Brecht's text. He thought the dialogue with the audience was very Brechtian, supplying a necessary energy for the performance to be engaging; however, I disagreed -- but I didn't say so. I nodded and started to leave.

"But wait a minute - you can't ask me that question and not have an answer yourself!" he said (I wish there was flirtation in the comment, but there wasn't. Damn.).

My response: I thought the production was commercial (from what I could understand of it), and perhaps sacrificed true intellectualism for crowd-pleasing spectacle; the dialogue that Philippe praised was more of an enjoyment tactic than distanciation (save for one moment at the top of act three, which we agreed was effective).

I think he was impressed with my answer. I think. At any rate, I don't think I sounded like a doofus. God I hope I didn't. I was standing there in front of a cute boy in my pajamas while eating cheese; sounding like a moron would have only made a sad picture downright pitiful.