Riviera : Vígjáték két felvonásban

In the glittering upper floor of a massive Budapest department store, a night shift turns into an unlikely stage for comedy. The set is framed by glass cabinets and a vacant display case that once held a luxurious wax‑figure salon, now waiting to be repopulated. A small troupe—two workers, a servant, and three couples of polished ladies and gentlemen—buzzes through the aisles, their manners as polished as the storefront they inhabit. When the curtains rise, the audience meets Misch, a dapper yet exhausted sales assistant, whose weary optimism is matched only by his quick wit.

Misch's routine is interrupted by a pair of firemen on a midnight inspection, sparking a lively exchange about “the Riviera” he plans to stage for the affluent patrons. Their banter weaves together longing, satire of high‑society pretensions, and the absurdity of staging a lavish show in an empty glass case. As the evening unfolds, the characters juggle flirtations, pretenses, and the promise of a spectacular night that might finally lift Misch out of his drab existence. The first act sets a playful tone, inviting listeners to linger in the sparkling chaos of a store that never truly sleeps.