Review: CANNED GOODS, Southwark Playhouse

Tensions are high on the border between Germany and Poland in 1939. Hitler is trying to justify a Nazi invasion whilst keeping the United Kingdom at bay. Meanwhile, a Jewish philosopher and a German janitor plucked straight from Dachau sit in a prison cell opposite a farmer with Polish affiliations. As they try to make sense of their usefulness for the regime, they examine survival and power, propaganda and the manipulation of truth.

Erik Kahn’s play tested very positively in the States early last year and has gained even more resonance since then. Reviewing it on the day of the United States Presidential Inauguration, where Elon Musk gave a hasty Roman salute to Trump’s rapt audience, hit differently. In front of us, Charlotte Cohn impeccably directs a fish tank of cruelty from the past. On our screens, another one plays out.

Kahn’s writing is charged with philosophical intent. A strong foundation recalling Hannah Arendt and Primo Levi cradles history, theology, and humanity in a rousing questioning of the nature of evil. Canned Goods is filled with dynamic, excellent hooks shared among a cohesive cast. From the morbidly mesmerising vision of Tom Wells strapping on a swastika while a microphone descends on him in harsh lighting to rouse the nation with hatred to Dan Parr’s arresting presence throughout, it stands out in the fringe circle.

There’s bittersweet beauty in Charlie Archer’s Birnbaum, embroidered over the heartfelt, distressed philosophising that finds fertile ground in Honiok (Wells) and his deep empathy, while Kruger (Rowan Polonski) scoffs and rolls his eyes at both. This group of men, forgotten by their peers but not by the state, critically include a proud antisemite. Kruger is uneducated and hostile, destitute and delusional over Hitler’s promises of a better Germany. From his imprisonment, he maintains that the dictator would take care of “real Germans” like him - the parallels with current affairs are endless. While the trio bring up religion and politics in a desperate attempt at rationalising their part in the violence that’s unfolding, Parr steals the scene. In fairness, his shocking charisma kicks off pre-show.

He walks onto Mona Camille’s impressionistic set design (a transversal platform that hints at the idea of a prison lot but doesn’t spoon feed it, exquisite in its sketched form), dressed in full Nazi uniform, placidly smoking and surveying his surroundings with a complacent smirk. A chilling performance starts, supported by Kahn’s captivating storytelling. He holds the crowd dangerously in the palm of his hand, referring to Birnbaum, Honiok, and Kruger as his guests, feeding them well and flattering them, occasionally exploding in fits of alarming rage. The most disturbing side of his role hasn’t even begun yet. “There were too many of us, they couldn’t hang us all” he explains once his murderous mission has come to fruition.

Script and direction join forces to deliver an impressive, thoughtful project that, by covering an obscure event in the run-up to the bloodiest of genocides, screams a wary warning in a world of fake news and corrupt heads of state. The blueprint is there. As the Major asks the audience if they’re satisfied with his deadly production, concocted to keep the foreign press at bay, he disappears inside them. Though it’s not the most original of endings, it’s foolproof, tying together a momentous piece of theatre.

Canned Goods runs at Southwark Playhouse until 8 February.

Photo Credits: Mark Senior

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