CABARET

Berlin, 1930s

After breaking up with your boyfriend, France no longer felt like home.

You had spent months trying to convince yourself that the relationship could still be saved, that his betrayal had been a mistake, that perhaps he would eventually realize what he had lost. But in the end, there was nothing left to repair.

His infidelity had been the final straw.

You no longer wanted to stay in a city where almost every street reminded you of him.

You wanted a new life.

It didn’t have to be luxurious.

It didn’t have to be perfect.

You simply needed it to be different.

So you packed your things and left France behind.

BERLIN

Berlin was nothing like you had imagined.

The city was enormous, loud, restless, and alive. People were constantly rushing through the streets, cafés were filled with conversations, music drifted from open doors, and once evening came, the entire city seemed to transform.

During your first days, you knew almost nothing about Berlin.

You could speak enough German to get by, but you still felt like an outsider.

The most important thing was finding somewhere to live.

Eventually, you managed to rent a small room in Fräulein Schneider’s boarding house.

The room was modest, but it was enough for a beginning.

A small bed.

A wardrobe.

A little table.

A window overlooking the street.

And very few things that reminded you of the life you had left behind.

You gradually became acquainted with the other residents.

The boarding house was run by Fräulein Schneider, an elderly woman who treated her tenants with a mixture of strictness and genuine care. She knew exactly who came and went, who owed money for their rooms, and what sort of trouble was happening under her roof.

One of the regular residents was Herr Schultz, an elderly Jewish fruit merchant.

He often visited the boarding house with his goods and gradually became someone you saw around Fräulein Schneider quite often.

There was a particular closeness between the two of them.

They clearly cared about each other, although their relationship developed with great caution.

Another resident was Fräulein Kost.

You quickly realized that she lived a very different life from most of the respectable women you had known.

During the day, she could appear perfectly ordinary, going about her business around the boarding house.

But at night, her life became something entirely different.

You tried not to ask questions.

Everyone here seemed to have their own reasons for being in Berlin.

And you gradually learned that some people’s pasts were better left alone unless they chose to reveal them themselves.

LOOKING FOR WORK

Your own problems were much more ordinary.

You were running out of money.

Almost every day, you left the boarding house and went looking for work.

Cafés.

Restaurants.

Shops.

Small hotels.

Anywhere that might need another pair of hands.

You left your name, asked about available positions, and returned home with a little hope that became weaker with every passing day.

You didn’t want to return to France.

You didn’t want to go back to the life you had left behind.

So you kept looking.

THE CAFÉ

One evening, you decided to stop searching for a few hours.

You entered a small café, ordered something inexpensive, and took a seat.

You simply wanted to sit quietly and think.

How much money did you have left?

How long could you continue paying for your room?

What were you supposed to do next?

You were almost completely lost in your thoughts when you overheard several men sitting at the nearby table.

They were talking about a place.

A nightclub.

The Kit Kat Club.

The name meant nothing to you.

But from their conversation, it was clear that it was a rather famous establishment.

A place where performers appeared every night.

A place where all sorts of people gathered.

And, apparently, a place that was always looking for new girls.

For several minutes, you debated whether you should interrupt a conversation between complete strangers.

You had never been particularly bold.

Especially around people you didn’t know.

But the need to find work was stronger than your shyness.

You cautiously asked the men about the club.

They told you where it was and explained what sort of place it was.

They also made it clear that it was nothing like an ordinary restaurant or café.

You listened carefully.

It sounded strange.

Perhaps even a little frightening.

But it was a possible job.

And that was enough.

THE KIT KAT CLUB

That evening, you stood outside the club for quite some time.

Music could already be heard from inside.

You almost turned around several times.

But eventually, you stepped through the doors.

Your first impression was overwhelming.

You had not been prepared for what you saw.

A stage.

Bright lights.

Music.

Smoke.

Laughter.

Alcohol.

People dressed in extravagant costumes.

Performers moving freely between the stage and the audience.

Guests who had clearly come here to forget all ordinary rules for a few hours.

Everything seemed too loud.

Too open.

Too free.

You immediately felt out of place.

Especially because you were a rather shy girl yourself.

You weren’t used to this kind of attention, and you certainly couldn’t imagine yourself becoming part of such a world.

Then you noticed The Emcee.

The man seemed to be the complete opposite of you.

Cynical.

Eccentric.

Provocative.

Incredibly energetic.

He seemed to exist not alongside the spectacle, but above it.

To him, the club was a stage, and every person inside was part of the performance.

The Emcee noticed almost immediately that you were new.

He didn’t allow you to remain standing awkwardly near the entrance for long and quickly took you farther inside.

As you walked through the club, you began noticing the performers.

And one woman in particular immediately caught your attention.

Sally Bowles.

Nineteen years old.

An eccentric Englishwoman who had made a name for herself as one of the Kit Kat Club’s stars and singers.

She was bright, theatrical, and completely unlike you.

On stage, Sally seemed like someone who had never experienced embarrassment in her life.

She knew how to make an entire room look at her.

There was something fascinating about her.

A little reckless.

A little strange.

And impossible to ignore.

She seemed desperate to be seen, to become famous, to convince everyone around her that she was destined for something much greater.

But behind the stage persona was something you couldn’t yet understand.

You didn’t know her.

And she didn’t know you.

YOUR NEW JOB

The Emcee eventually explained why the club needed new girls.

The Kit Kat Club was constantly looking for fresh faces.

The performers wore revealing costumes, and some of the girls appeared on stage wearing little more than lingerie.

The thought of standing in front of dozens of strange men dressed like that was almost unbearable to you.

You were too shy.

Too inexperienced.

Too unfamiliar with this world.

But the Emcee didn’t consider that a serious problem.

You didn’t have to start on stage.

For now, you could work as a waitress.

You could watch the others.

Get used to the audience.

Get used to the music.

Get used to the performers.

Get used to the atmosphere.

And perhaps, eventually, you would become comfortable enough to try something else.

There was also another side of the job you were warned about.

Some male customers could become overly familiar.

They might touch the girls or try to cross personal boundaries.

It was one of the unpleasant realities of working in a place like the Kit Kat Club.

You would have to learn how to deal with such situations and make it clear when a customer had gone too far.

You were still uncertain.

But you needed the money.

So you accepted the job.

THE FIRST WEEK

The following days were spent trying to adjust.

You worked as a waitress.

At first, you constantly mixed up tables, became nervous around customers, and felt awkward among the performers.

But gradually, it became easier.

You began recognizing regular customers.

Remembering the tables.

Learning when performances began.

When they ended.

Where you were supposed to take orders.

Where the backstage area was.

Where you could disappear for a few minutes when the noise became too overwhelming.

You saw Sally almost every evening.

But your interactions remained limited to brief encounters around the club.

She was one of its stars.

You were a new waitress.

You still felt like you were standing on the outside of her world.

CLIFFORD BRADSHAW

Around the same time, a young American arrived in Berlin.

Clifford Bradshaw.

A young writer who had come to Europe in search of inspiration, freedom, and material for his writing.

Berlin attracted him precisely because of its unusual atmosphere.

It was a city where almost anything seemed possible.

A city that appeared to offer a kind of freedom he had been searching for.

But the romantic idea of traveling to Europe quickly collided with reality.

Cliff had very little money.

He needed somewhere to stay.

Work was not guaranteed.

And his writing career existed more in his plans than in reality.

He had arrived in Berlin alone, with very few connections.

Eventually, he found himself in need of somewhere inexpensive to stay.

That was how he ended up at Fräulein Schneider’s boarding house.

HIS ARRIVAL

It was already evening when the front door of the boarding house opened.

Fräulein Schneider was there to greet the new tenant.

A young man stood in the doorway with a suitcase and a travel bag.

His appearance immediately suggested that he had come from far away.

His clothes were neat but slightly wrinkled from the journey, and there was an unmistakable tiredness in his face.

This was Clifford Bradshaw.

The young American writer who had only recently arrived in Berlin.

He carried only a few belongings with him.

Some books.

Manuscripts.

Clothes.

And the few personal things he considered necessary for starting a new life.

Cliff had already encountered one of the first difficulties of traveling abroad: finding somewhere to live.

Fräulein Schneider explained the arrangement and led him upstairs.

The boarding house was quiet.

Somewhere behind one of the doors, someone was moving around.

Another room was completely silent.

The house had settled into its usual evening rhythm.

Fräulein Schneider stopped in front of your door.

She knocked.

You looked up.

When the door opened, you saw an unfamiliar young man standing beside Fräulein Schneider.

He was holding his suitcase.

For a moment, you simply looked at each other.

Fräulein Schneider introduced you.

She explained that there were no rooms left and that, for the time being, Cliff would be staying in your room.

The situation was probably just as unexpected for him as it was for you.

Cliff had hoped to find a room of his own, but after arriving in a foreign country with limited money and few connections, he couldn’t exactly afford to be overly selective.

He stepped inside and set his suitcase down.

The room was small.

Now it would have to accommodate two people.

Fräulein Schneider reminded both of you of the rules of the boarding house before finally leaving.

The door closed behind her.

Silence settled over the room.

Cliff remained beside his suitcase, looking around at his new surroundings.

You stood across from him.

For the first time, you were sharing your small room with a complete stranger.

Sally Bowles is a performer at the Kit Kat Club, an Englishwoman who lives entirely in the present moment. Her famous carefree attitude is both a genuine part of her personality and a protective mask. She doesn’t want to think about politics, the future, responsibility, or consequences.

Clifford Bradshaw is an American writer who comes to Berlin. At first, he is simply an observer: he has come to write, meets Sally, and gradually becomes part of her world. But Cliff’s main transformation is that he stops being an observer. He is forced to make a moral choice.

The Emcee is perhaps the most interesting character if you look at the play as more than just a love story. He hosts the cabaret, comments on what is happening, and constantly turns serious things into entertainment. In a way, he shows the audience how art can both reflect reality and help people hide from it. In the Young Theatre’s production, the Emcee is played by Ilya Choporov.

Fräulein Schneider and Herr Schultz are the parallel love story. And, in my opinion, it is the most tragic one.

Schneider is the owner of the boarding house, while Schultz is an elderly Jewish fruit vendor. Their relationship begins in an almost sweet and comedic way, but then politics literally invades their personal lives. What should simply be the love between two adults suddenly becomes dangerous because of Schultz’s background.

Ernst Ludwig initially seems like an ordinary acquaintance of Cliff and Sally, but it gradually becomes clear that he is connected to the movement. Through him, you can especially see how quietly a political ideology can infiltrate everyday life.

Fräulein Kost is a prostitute who lives in the same boarding house. Her storyline shows another side of Berlin life — people who exist on the edge of the law and social morality.

And the others — the girls and men of the Kit Kat Club — create that world of cabaret that constantly exists alongside the main drama. The Young Theatre’s official cast, for example, also includes Bobby, Victor, the dancers, the telephone girl, Max, and others.