1.5/5★
A political prisoner’s compliance exposes the absurd co-dependence of state power and dissent, though the staging feels fragmented and uneven.
Polish dramatist Slawomir Mrożek’s 1958 play Police, a satirical dismantling of the totalitarian state, is a cornerstone of Eastern European absurdist theatre. Its themes — political prisoners, the artificial need for an enemy, and the absurd co-dependence of authority and rebellion — remain relevant today. Unfortunately, this Georgian production failed to live up to the biting wit and sharp political commentary that the play demands.
The plot of Police revolves around a totalitarian state that suddenly finds itself in an existential crisis: after ten years in prison, the country’s last political dissident announces his willingness to sign a declaration of loyalty and reintegrate into society. This unexpected choice terrifies the authorities, as the very existence of the police, the prison system, and the secret service depends on having an enemy to oppose. The chief of police, aided by his overzealous sergeant, scrambles to maintain order by attempting to provoke rebellion and bribe an undercover police officer into publicly voicing an oppositional stance, thereby preserving the illusion of threat. In doing so, the play satirically exposes the absurd co-dependence between oppressor and oppressed, showing how loyalty and disloyalty become meaningless without each other.
The staging, however, by Tbilisi’s City Theatre was stiff and uninspired, draining the satire of its humour and momentum. Instead of building the absurd tension between loyalty and disloyalty, the performance often slipped into flat caricature, losing its political edge. Attempts at humour fell short, and what should have been moments of dark irony often felt forced or confusing.
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The acting itself was strong, with several performers demonstrating clear talent and stage presence. However, instead of forming a cohesive whole, their delivery often felt like a series of detached stand-up comedy bits. While entertaining in moments, this fragmented style weakened the performance’s sense of unity, making it harder for the audience to grasp the central message of the play.
On a brighter side, the production did attempt to ground itself in the Georgian context by weaving in references to recent local cases. Most notably, it included direct quotations from police officer Irakli Dgebuadze, the former Batumi police chief connected to the case of imprisoned journalist Mzia Amaghlobeli, with lines such as ‘I felt so much pain, my cheek was red’ and ‘I fucking swear, I’ll arrest her under the criminal [code]’.
Overall, however, this was a missed opportunity: a play bursting with potential for biting critique reduced to a dull, plain performance. What should have been a sharp political farce felt more like a flat exercise in going through the motions.
Police premiered on 26 May at the City Theatre. It was recently staged as part of the 2025 Tbilisi International Festival of Theatre.
