In ‘Freaky Friday Face Off’, misplaced generalizations make way for empathy

‘Body swapping is a story form in which two people end up in each other’s bodies. B-movies and pulp novels in particular use this narrative form.” Before the red curtains roll up, Tessa Jonge Poerink from De Warme Winkel gives a brief explanation of the satirical game with body swaps that will soon begin. “The characters who are confronted with this body swap are often miles apart. Young becomes old, gay becomes straight, black becomes white.”

A work of art in itself is Theun Mosk’s rotating decor, divided into four rooms, on which we see a Moroccan living room, a Chinese restaurant, a toilet and Ryan’s home. A luxurious apartment full of art, books and a designer lamp. Ryan, a tastefully dressed man, stands in front of the mirror. Ryan is almost 70, depressed and gay. After introducing himself, Jonge Poerink presents Ryan with his real name and personal backstory. “Florian Myjer is not a transformative actor. He plays himself or a variation on himself. He finds playing differently dangerous.”

In the same way, the four players introduce each other with extensive profile descriptions and sometimes a typical youth event. Myjer describes Yassine Chigri as someone who was spoiled by his parents, because his parents were afraid that he would end up in crime. As a Moroccan Dutchman, Chigri is mainly cast in roles called Achmed or Aziz: “That’s why he’s playing Harry tonight.”

Wine Dierickx and Yassine Chigri in his family’s living room in the performance ‘Freaky Friday Face Off’.
Photo Sofie Knijff

Dreamy atmosphere

Wine Dierickx has been assigned motherly roles since her teenage years, it is said, and this time too. As Jamie, she is Harry’s mother, widowed and sexually frustrated. Lindsay (Tessa Jonge Poerink) is Harry’s sister, has a growth disorder and always struggled with setting her boundaries. She lets her mother’s hysterical frustration get over her in the role of Lindsay without too much resistance.

The absurdist dialogues sometimes seem improvised, typical of De Warme Winkel and co-producer Wunderbaum. They are bursting with dated stereotypes and generalizations, such as the ‘aesthetic’ gay, the sexually frustrated widow and the Scarface-imitating Moroccan. They symbolize an underlying pattern that constantly pushes people and actors into boxes.

This is best reflected in a candid conversation between Harry and Ryan, after the two meet in a Chinese restaurant. Misplaced generalizations slowly make way for empathy. “Never again should gays be played by straights. They don’t know your history and so they can’t play you,” says Harry. In turn, Ryan says: “If you see a Moroccan on television, he or she is pathetic or criminal. If that’s all you see, that’s all you can become.”

Candid conversation

When the long-delayed body swaps finally occur via a fortune cookie from the restaurant or a leftover ketamine from Harry’s bag, the characters appear to have more than understanding for each other. They also get something from each other. Ryan is finally young again and Harry lives on the canal belt for a while. Lindsay and her mother finally become closer.

Young plays old, white plays black. The believable and amusing way in which the actors portray each other after the body swaps makes you wonder whether it is so inappropriate for actors to adopt a completely different identity. At least not in this performance.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2mzC92gQ17g

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