Adelaide Festival. Dunstan Playhouse. 28 Feb 2026

 

History of Violence is beautiful theatre about ugly themes. It is an adaptation of an autobiographical story of the same name by Édouard Louis.

 

History of Violence follows the leadup to, unfolding and aftermath of the rape and attempted murder of Édouard by Reda. The depiction of this is unpleasant but well executed.   An innocent tryst between two young gay men on Christmas Eve goes horribly wrong. Issues of poverty and fate, systemic and personal racism, and classism are also addressed, and they provide uncomfortable lenses through which to interrogate the sexual violence that is central to the plot.

 

The action is not played out chronologically, and we move backwards and forwards in time and through various locations as the rape is examined by Édouard himself, Reda, police, forensic investigators, and Édouard’s family, particularly his sister.

 

The play is spoken in German, with English surtitles projected on the upstage video screen. With the performance played non-stop and coming in at around two hours without an interval, following the surtitles was a challenge. This reviewer felt they were too comprehensive and too fast at times and took your attention away from the finer nuances of what the cast were doing.

 

A key idea that is explored in the play is how discussion of an event causes different recollections. It’s almost a sociological analogue of a scientific principle that once a ‘system’ is observed it is altered forever. As Édouard is questioned about the terrible events, the content of his answers and explanations are influenced by what he thinks might be the prejudices of the questioner and how they might be judging Édouard himself. It’s not so much Édouard wanting to hide or admit various things, it’s more that he doesn’t want to facilitate the questioner constructing interpretations about Édouard’s world. For example, the police are astounded that Édouard would even think about having a one-night stand on Christmas Eve. Édouard expresses genuine surprise and responds ‘yes, why not?’. His interrogators fail to recognise Reda’s exact ethnicity and simply dismiss him as another economic refugee ‘from North Africa’. Édouard responds by almost not wanting to press charges because Reda’s circumstances likely forced him to do what he did, and who can say they wouldn’t do the same if they were in similar circumstances.

 

The rape and violence is initiated by Édouard indirectly accusing Reda of a crime. This very act makes Édouard a more complex character, and, arguably, less likeable in the eyes of the audience. In some ways, Édouard and Reda become ‘equals’ as protagonists, and this is part of the beauty in the writing and the adaptation. In simple terms, there are two sides to the story: who or what one believes depends on one’s observational standpoint.

 

Édouard Louis’s character is played by Laurenz Laufenberg, and Reda by Renato Schuch. They are compelling. Laufenberg gives Édouard a sense of superiority, which is clearly recognised by his sister Clara, played by Alina Stiegler, and her husband played by Christoph Gawenda. They both convincingly double as other characters and are the source of much needed moments of humour to break the tension. Clara in particular asks laser focussed questions of Édouard , and she frequently turns the direction of the action and Édouard’s countenance in an instant. Again, good writing, and tight direction by Thomas Ostermeier.

 

The play is simply set on an almost bare stage. There are a few items of furniture that tare moved into place as needed, and there is a functional shower that is used on several occasions. In one memorable and almost confusing flash-back scene at the start of the play, where Christoph Gawenda plays Édouard, Gawenda strips and showers to wash away the stain of the rape.

 

A key dramatic device is the cast using mobile telephones to video various scenes which are then projected in real time onto a giant screen that comprises the upstage wall of the set. Intimate and other moments are exposed in minute detail, and we as audience almost feel voyeuristic. There is also an on-stage musician, Thomas Witte, who in the time-honoured tradition of silent movie organists provides compelling accompaniment to a number of scenes. His evocative underscore drives a sense of urgency and foreboding.

Yes, beautiful theatre but about ugly themes.

 

Kym Clayton

 

When: 27 Feb to 2 Mar

Where: Dunstan Playhouse

Bookings: ticketek.com.au