The standard situations of which there is always a shortage in theatre remain unrelentingly popular among theatre-makers. This applies when it comes to critical reflections on our media-dominated society: Berlusconi, bunga-bunga, bla bla. Live broadcasts with snoring season-ticket holders in the stalls are definitely not recommended. By definition, theatre cannot as a ‘medium’ hold its own against the media, and this sort of lament over cultural decline is in itself no more than entertainment that sells well. But when an ensemble such as Jan Lauwers’ Needcompany steps onto the slippery slope between the stage and media ‘formats’, it’s definitely worth taking a look. Needcompany’s multilingual and multimedia expeditions into the borderlands of the theatre started in Brussels in 1986 and are now to be seen at all the main festivals. Now, as ‘artists in residence’, they are the latest acquisition of the Burgtheater in Vienna. Their play The Art of Entertainment at the Akademietheater demonstrates how contemporary theatre is missing the boat. The world of theatre is perhaps not so much a glass window that shows reality in the right perspective as a crystal ball that distorts the perception; which absorbs all the light, and outside which no other world exists. It sometimes draws its strength from dubious sources, from the remains of fairground illusions and from a childlike urge to dress up. Surrounded by hip-swaying Rai Uno girls, Viviane De Muynck puts on a blond wig as her witch’s hat and announces the evening’s sensations. We are offered the suicide of an actor, with a sumptuous final meal, poison injections and millions of viewers. This suicide is called Saul J. Waner, an anagram of Jan Lauwers. In the shape of the Burgtheater actor Michael König. The ode to the individual ‘freedom’ one has – as someone over 55 – to take oneself out of circulation is thus not meant too seriously: thanks to a few cheap theatre tricks, Waner will rise from the dead several times, something which only moderately pleases his lover, who has the significant name of Gena (Grace Ellen Barkey). The utter inability to talk about death can no longer be compensated by meaningful acting. … Duchamp and James Brown (Julien Faure and Misha Downey) pep up the last meal with a raving chef-and-waiter number. Eléonore Valère enters with complete abandon into a pas de deux with the handheld camera while wearing a sky-blue dress. In passing, the doctor who will later see to the death (Benoît Gob) heartrendingly advertises for a good cause – Doctors Without Borders – after all, the show he is in is live. Sylvie Rohrer of the Burgtheater translates this appeal to public spiritedness from German to French and vice versa. In the end we start to suspect that we are witnessing a major misunderstanding. Jan Lauwers and his ensemble eagerly recycle the residues of superseded theatre traditions and thereby actually play into the hands of the guardians of these traditions. As outmoded as it is, the opposition to institutionalised theatre which at one time sparked off careers such as that of Jan Lauwers is still having an effect.