Nachtland, Young Vic Theatre review

What would you do if you discovered a problematic but potentially valuable painting gathering dust in your attic? Would you keep it, sell it or destroy it? It’s the conundrum facing grown up siblings Nicola (Dorothea Myer-Bennett) and Phillip (John Heffernan), who with their partners have gathered at their late father’s house to clear out his belongings in this bonkers but entertaining satire from leading German playwright Marius von Mayenburg.

The painting in question may or may not be a “genuine Hitler”. The signature on it appears to say ‘A. Hitler’ and, before getting into politics, running the country and spearheading the genocide of its Jewish population, it’s true (if unfathomable) Hitler hoped to become an artist. If it's his, could this painting of deserted streets and a church be “Nazi kitsch”?

Things quickly become contentious: Phillip’s Jewish wife Judith (Jenna Augen) wants the painting destroyed, arguing that money made from it would be poisoned, while Phillip and Nicola have no qualms with selling it, even if to do so they’ll need a story about their dear old Grandma Gretta being a Nazi sympathiser. Nicola’s partner Fabian (Gunnar Cauthery), meanwhile, has been eerily seduced by the painting in a twist that lends the narrative a lick of magical realism.

Loyalties shift within the family and buried resentments are aired. Von Mayenburg’s script is as searingly political as it is darkly funny: a shouting match between Judith and Nicola that condenses the wrongs of the Holocaust and Israel’s treatment of Palestinians into a matter of seconds is razor sharp and hold-your-breath tense. Microaggressions towards Judith cleverly pave the way for vile antisemitic outbursts, especially once art historian Evamaria (Jane Horrocks) – who seems to believe the Nazis did more good than harm – enters the frame.

Patrick Marber’s production is playful and quirky, but undermines the satire with silliness. An abstract semi-naked dance by highly sexed art collector Kahl (Angus Wright) is a bit ‘WTF’, and while soulful, a song by Augen’s Judith seems out of place. Still, splicing the comedy and politics with a helping of the supernatural works very well, especially on designer Anna Fleischle’s stage, loomed over by an imposing, stripped back house of hidden proportions.

Nachtland raises interesting questions about whether our morality has a price. Can you really say you oppose everything Nazi Germany stood for if you’re happy to indirectly profit from it decades later? It challenges until the end, with each new twist defying expectation.