Marcus Braun

“There’s a particle called a tachyon, whose square mass is negative. Its presence in a theory, its existence, implies a logical contradiction… and something like that suddenly appeared yesterday.”
“Uh-huh.”

Paul and Mila are a couple. Paul and Carus are friends. Paul and Uta sleep together. Uta and Carus also sleep together, as do Carus and Mila. And because sex with another woman or the lover of a friend or with the girlfriend of a friend is usually taboo, things happen that should never happen like that.
The arrangement in Marcus Braun's new play is plain and simple. But behind that seeming simplicity, the aimlessness of sexual desire, the power of decisions once made and their transition to independence are lurking.

“You don’t have to leave completely. Maybe just a little bit”, Carus advises his friend Paul. “With our first step, we are free. We only become slaves with the second one.”

Braun’s characters hold up a mirror to themselves and us, a mirror in which they don’t recognise themselves anymore, but we recognise ourselves all the better. Ironic and subtle, sometimes dreary and first of all unbelievably funny, he sketches images of men and women who fall in love, lose their way, decide – and then do everything differently.