Anemone Valcke and Verona Verbakel’s The Ego emerges from Ontroerend Goed’s theatrical lineage with characteristic Belgian fearlessness and appetite for (self-)reflection. What begins as an exploration of rejection’s impact on bruised artistic egos spirals into more complex territory—transgressive behavior, internalized misogyny, and the peculiar phenomenology of performance itself.
Structured essayistically, the work moves from theoretical frameworks (ego as “everything everyone thought about you,” onion-layered identity models) through personal case studies of ego interference re-enacted with uncomfortable intimacy. The discreet metatheatrical framing gradually creates productive instability: are we witnessing confession, performance, or calculated provocation?
The performers’ distinction between “good lying” and “bad lying” in acting — with self-declared favoring of authentic self-revelation over technical deception — forms the basis of their methodology. This results in moments of genuine vulnerability alongside calculated shock tactics. Anemone’s classic acceptance speech fantasy as compensation for failing to win any of multiple award nominations in a single gender neutral ceremony, captures something both funny and painfully true about female ambition’s psychological costs. Meanwhile Verona’s story of a Director’s Muse having to hide her turd is more of a comedy of the absurd variety. But by the end there are so many crying video sequences throughout the show it is hard not to question their deployment as potentially strategic.
In balancing vulnerability and provocation, the deliberate ambiguity feels like a double edged sword. While the #MeToo vengeance narrative and gender-reversed power dynamics attempt meaningful intervention, an intentional progression toward pornographic fantasy appears to risk sensationalism over insight. The two co-authors do not present themselves as a harmonius double act, potentially also letting the notion of ego get in the way of feminist allyship? Finally, the duo resort to a secret video guest appearance of another Ontroerend Goed star as a welcome distraction when they get stuck on how to end the piece, although this means the overall trajectory toward conflict-free resolution feels forced rather than earned.
Anemone Valcke and Verona Verbakel are charming performers who succeed best when indeed exposing and performing their authentic selves and acknowledging their manipulation of audience response. It is this tension, rather than any singular revelation about ego or gender, that provides the work’s most compelling moments.
This post was written by the author in their personal capacity.The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not reflect the view of The Theatre Times, their staff or collaborators.
This post was written by Duška Radosavljević.
The views expressed here belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect our views and opinions.
