Adolf attempted to get into the Academy of Fine Arts, while August sought a place at the Conservatoire of Music. August was successful. Adolf failed. Twice.
For light relief, after Bullock, Laurence turned to Freud: A Life For Our Time, Peter Gay’s study of Sigmund Freud. There he read that Dr Freud had helped set up that Viennese children’s clinic; if Frau Hitler had taken Dr Bloch’s advice, little Adolf might have been treated by Dr Freud himself!
We knew this could make the beginning of an arresting story; an embittered, unemployed young Hitler, mooching around Vienna at the very time that Freud is in his pomp, seeks out the professor, the only man who ever took a serious interest. What might have happened if they had reconnected? Would Hitler have been deflected from his journey from street-peddler to Führer? And dare we suggest such a thing, or should we steer clear?
Steering clear never crossed our joint mind. Nor did we question why we were so fascinated by this improbable relationship.
.png?f=3x2&w=732&q=0.6)
The poster for the play with cast members Jonathan Tafler as Sigmund Freud, Nesba Crenshaw as Martha Freud, Ruby Ablett as Anna Freud, Sam Mac as Hitler, Brendan Lyle as Otto Rank and Neil Chinneck as Carl Jung[Missing Credit]
We’re instinctive writers; we don’t write because we have a point to prove but because a story demands to be told. Once the computer is warmed up, we like to get on with it and let the characters lead us where they will. And they took us to some unexpected places.
But now I wonder whether we were motivated, unconsciously, by the desire to examine the awful mystery that I’m sure troubles most Jews at least some of the time; why do they hate us? What did we do wrong? Of course, not all of them hate all of us. But whenever we think the noxious weed of antisemitism has been wiped out, it sends out new tendrils. Though Laurence and I are godless “cultural Jews” who married out and merrily mix meat and milk, we still, to quote the Haggadah, know we are “us” and not “you” and that we will always be quite Jewish enough for the haters.
You may wonder why it took nearly 30 years for this play to reach the stage. I’ll explain. The first version was written for the big screen, since we were convinced our story deserved to become a major motion picture. Unfortunately, the movie business didn’t seem to agree. We tried to turn it into a TV drama, but in those pre-streamer days it was far too esoteric. We rewrote it for the stage. Still no traction. Too Jewish?
Rather than give up completely, we managed to sell the play to the BBC’s radio drama department and in 2007 Dr Freud Will See You Now, Mrs Hitler was broadcast on Radio 4. It was well received, and we were asked to stage a rehearsed reading at the Tricycle Theatre in aid of the Freud Museum. And there the story ends, until last year, when Laurence went to Upstairs at the Gatehouse to watch a friend’s new play. He was introduced to one of the theatre’s trustees, who had been at that Tricycle evening years before, and who wondered if there had ever been a full stage production. Laurence’s answer was “No. But there could be.”
And now there is. Should there be, though, at such a tricky time to be Jewish? Shouldn’t we keep our heads down? Haven’t we got enough tsuris? But it’s never not a good time to remind the wider public of the deep, twisted roots of antisemitism. We will never forget, but they might.
Upstairs at the Gatehouse is barely a mile from the house in Hampstead where the exiled Freud spent his last months. He never met Hitler, but if he had, would it have made any difference? Please come and see for yourself.
For tickets: upstairsatthegatehouse.com
