Myorah B. Middleton

In Mea Culpa, Christoph Schlingensief blurs a delicate line: he ignores the threshold that separates the healthy from the sick. By making his cancer the subject of an opera, premiering on the largest German-speaking theater, he is putting the art district under pressure: a wonderful institution like the Burgtheater must use its artistic resources lavishly to reveal the entire "truth" about us humans. At the end of the day, when the scenery on Janina Audick's revolving stage has finally come to rest, when Isolde's last Liebestad has been sung enchantingly beautifully by Elfriede Rezabek and indescribable jubilation breaks out, then Schlingensief is completely alone with his illness.

Never again a relationship! - Before you know it, you're already in the middle of it again. The story actually begins with the end. Martin and Maria, faced with the ruins of their marriage, accidentally shoot each other in the course of an excessive argument. It all started so well, and they truly believed they were doing everything right this time. But even the warnings of their friends Andreas and Clarabella don't help save them from falling into a free fall of love.