Ubu Roi, ou, les Polonais

In this uproarious five‑act drama, listeners are plunged into a nightmarish domestic tableau where power is reduced to crude farce. Father Ubu, a blustering, vulgar would‑be monarch, and his equally scheming wife bicker over crowns, capes and hollow ambitions, while an entourage of grotesque officials and bewildered soldiers shuffle about in absurd rituals. Their dialogue crackles with vulgar humor, absurd metaphors and a relentless stream of nonsensical threats that turn everyday concerns into a carnival of chaos.

The setting feels both familiar and fantastical—a ramshackle palace filled with half‑eaten roasts, a flickering green candle, and a cast of characters ranging from pompous captains to self‑important courtiers. As the couple plots to seize a distant throne, their petty grievances spiral into outrageous demands, exposing the thin veneer of authority that holds their world together.

All the while, the play’s language is a whirlwind of inventive wordplay, vivid slapstick and biting satire, inviting listeners to laugh at the grotesque while glimpsing a pointed commentary on the folly of power. This lively performance promises a delightfully disorienting listening experience that captures the anarchic spirit of its original staging.