CRIPPLETREK
The Eventful Ride of the Inmates of the Last Leg Residential Institute
Concept, Script, Music and Direction:
Pavla Dombrovská, with the help from Luděk Vémola
Set, Props, Lights and Sound:
Luděk Vémola, with the help from Pavla Dombrovská
Masks and Puppets: Jakub Růžička
Performed, Sung, Lit, and Sound operated by: Luděk Vémola and Pavla Dombrovská
For adult audiences / Duration: 50 minutes
THE PERFORMANCE WON THE CITY OF PLZEŇ AWARD AT THE SKUPA’S PLZEŇ 2024 FESTIVAL (Award for Masks for the performance – Jakub Růžička)
O hře
A pair of bizarre losers play out a majestically grand finale in a fantasmagoric roadmovie packed with black humour, cruelty, tenderness stretched across a mosaic of powerful poetic images.
Dedicated to all those who live their lives in spite of their own bodies and the slings and arrows of fate.
Just like in other shows of our Provoking Theater Project, we use theatrical means to address topics that we think are neglected and outside the mainstream of our daily interests, and yet exceptionally important.
Technické podmínky
Technical specifications
- darkness
- stage 4x4x2,3 m
- electricity 230V 16A
- setup 2 hours
- disassembly 1 hour
- More information for organizers.
Media KIT
Advertising materials(poster, programme, photo)
… I confided that during the performance of Crippletrek by the Líšeň Theatre, tears of emotion welled up in my eyes. The story about dying, social issues, and last wishes deeply touched me…
Ema Šlechtová, Skupa’s Daily no. 4; 16.6.2024
YOU FUCKING BASTARDS, I LOVE YOU
The Brno Líšeň Theatre needs no introduction to festival audiences. For this year’s Skupovka, they brought their new production Crippletrek, which is part of their Provocative Theatre cycle (along with the productions Putin Skis and Blood Hygiene). The project connects their engaged performances with discussions—not necessarily about what has just been seen, but with various experts, activists, or journalists.
Pavla Dombrovská and Luděk Vémola are passionate, they have enormous energy and conviction that they pour onto the audience. Something is at stake here. I’m not afraid (and Líšeň isn’t afraid either) to say that it’s about democracy. I couldn’t (and didn’t want to) watch it with detachment. I don’t know how to reflect on a work that cares about form, precision, and functionality only as a distant second. Where the chosen means are so integrally derived from the inner tissue of the performance that I throw all criticisms aside. I felt that the audience is faced with the choice to either accept the whole or reject it. I gladly accepted, so I offer some of my observations and feelings.
For a long time, I just watched the old man, his movements, and face. The masks, used simultaneously as puppets combined with human hands, fascinated me. The clients of the Last Gasp Institute immediately won my sympathy. Why is that? The stylization of all the characters appearing is borderline, but I don’t think it turns into parody for the main heroes or Lojzička, thanks to the creators maximally downplaying themselves, focusing all attention on the puppets, not looking down on them, being there together with them. Additionally, the rebellion against helplessness, a pauper’s life, as the creators write in the annotation, against a complex and impersonal healthcare system, against linear time and ambitions, sparked a similar fervor in me. How to die with dignity and not lose oneself in white sheets and uniform pajamas?
The street musical accompaniment and songs, imprecise, energetic, drunken, where beauty and falseness intermingle, alternating moments of enchanted listening and the urge to cover one’s ears, support the ambivalence, and thus, I think, the entire performance deepens. The man’s narration gradually turns into an indistinct sound track, over time the words lose meaning and audience attention, which only supports the carnival atmosphere. Life cycles, stories repeat, we don’t know if they are talking about events of yesterday or thirty years ago. The homeless are shown as mythical figures living apart from us, with deep wisdom and tenderness, whose only connection to the world are devices, radio, and faceless doctors. At the same time, the creators uncompromisingly lower them with naivety, coarseness, and alcohol. This creates a layered and captivating event that you just need to let affect you.
Eliška Peřichová, Skupa’s Daily no. 4, 16.6.2024
