Review of ‘The Happiest Man On Earth’: “The harrowing secret of joy”

The best-selling autobiography comes to the London scene following a critically acclaimed initial run in the United States. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this true story told through the eyes of another victim of Nazi Germany manages to make a difference.

Happiness is a choice. We shouldn’t need a Holocaust survivor to remind us of that idea. But maybe it’s not until we’ve heard it from those who have been deprived of it completely (or at least, we believe they have) that we understand the importance of strength and resilience. Stories about the Holocaust are no stranger to the stage – or any realm of art, for that matter. From cinematic masterpieces like The Pianist to some of the most iconic musicals in history such as Cabaret, one of the most embarrassing, mortifying episodes of the last centuries has secured its position in the world of fiction.

Coming to the theatre to see another tale of about a Jewish survivor might not seem like the most enticing idea. On the one hand, the subject is so incredibly heartwrenching, the mental preparation it requires to relive the horrors so many innocent people perished to is an ordeal not every viewer is ready to undertake. On the other, we’ve seen it so many times and in so many forms, one can’t help but raising their eyebrow in disbelief and wonder: is it really worth it? What’s new to tell when we already know (perhaps, too accurately) what happened?

It took almost a century for Eddie Jaku to write his autobiography. It was not until he turned 100 that set himself to remember a past no-one, except for those who had experienced it first-hand, could ever imagine – not even in their hardest nightmares. The title, however, came as nothing short of a surprise; and not too far away from a shock – although, maybe, just to those who didn’t know the man…

The Happiest Man On Earth then became not only a best-seller, but an inspiring example of what predisposition can bring about. These are the memoirs of young German boy incarcerated for his racial background – and submitted to the most terrible punishments for the simple crime of being alive. He went through torture, famine and illness. And yet, he managed to keep going, and make gain at every moment despite the dreadful losses he had to face.

After the success of the book, Jaku’s recount leapt from the page and found its new home at the Barrington Stage Company. One man and a simple, almost empty, set to take us through a most gripping act of courage and constancy. Nothing else was required. The truth was already there. And just like the anecdotes that a fond, old relative would tell us on a Sunday afternoon, the play feels just as intimate, honest and moving – almost as if, from before it starts, we already knew and cared for the person who’s narrating it to us.

Adapted by Mark St. Germain, the astonishingly credible effect of the script (concocted with utmost brilliance as for both pathos and rhythm) owes a great deal of its merit to Kenneth Tigar’s mesmerizingly charming and sincerely touching performance. At no point will you feel you’re witnessing just a portrayal; but instead, a rousing, deeply wise testimony from someone who wishes to be open up about his past – and fairly deserves to do so. It is, in fact, a masterclass of acting – bringing such level of verity, emotion and stamina into it (all of it enhanced through a mild classical method flavour), that the mere elocution of the text seems like a solid enough reason to laud the whole montage.

Directed by Ron Lagomarsino, the praise actually goes on through its utterly excellent production values. With its scenography designed by James Noone, and combined with Harold Burgers’s lighting, the show features one of the most compelling set of visuals fringe theatre has put on display in a long time. Their ability to transport us into its universe and guide us with absolute expertise is simply superb – every scene is so adroitly evoked it’s almost impossible not to fall into the illusion. And as such, we’re invited to remember, through every second of the rendition, what the true essence of theatre, at its greatest, is really all about.

There are many ways to tell a story. And even more ways to explore the same theme. Some approaches are meant to fade. Some others manage to resonate. And only a few are destined to endure. Just like its protagonist, The Happiest Man On Earth is a piece bound to survive – not only in the scene, but in the hearts of everyone who comes watch it. Poignant and enchanting, the originality that’s been brought upon to a topic none is unfamiliar with, but still feels like a new discovery thanks to its authenticity, makes of it one of the finest offers in the London scene during the Autumn – as well as a gentle reminder of the significance of our paths. Life may not be just. But our actions can sometimes change its mind.

All pictures credit to Daniel Rader.

The Happiest Man On Earth plays at London’s Southwark Playhouse Borough until 14 December. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guilermo Nazara