New Yorker Zachary Oberzan became famous with Nature Theater of Oklahoma. But this is one artistic all-rounder who is more than capable of making a mark on his own. As he is demonstrating this week in two shows that draw on his own life. Chances are, he will have you roaring with laughter, but Oberzan is certainly not the happy-go-lucky type. “I have to convince myself every day that there’s a point to living,” he told us.
The theatre director, film-maker, singer-songwriter, and all-round actor Zachary Oberzan went solo in 2010. His first show, Your Brother. Remember?, was given its world premiere at the Beursschouwburg. And now he is back there again with this bizarre, highly entertaining, and yet quite harrowing production that consists for the most part of a low-budget video, with Oberzan providing live commentary. We see him and his brother Gator alongside excerpts from Kickboxer, Faces of Death and other footage. In both 1990 and 2010 the brothers acted out the parts of Jean-Claude Van Damme and Co. But whereas in 1990 it was, for them, a piece of adolescent fun, in 2010 it was a desperate attempt to make contact again after a decade of silence. In the meantime, Gator had overcome a drug habit he got over in prison and Zachary suffered from depression.
Oberzan is also presenting a second, more recent show at the Beursschouwburg. If anything, Tell Me Love Is Real is even darker than its predecessor: it looks at his failed suicide attempt in February 2012. As he tells it, he collapsed after taking an overdose of Xanax on the same night and in the same hotel as Whitney Houston. With the difference that Oberzan is able to tell us about his attempt. His new lecture-performance looks at his search for a new life, in the course of an existential journey via Bruce Lee, Gainsbourg, and Buddy Holly that aims to arrive at love.
Zachary Oberzan and the brotherhood of JCVD
You do everything yourself: directing, filming, singing, and acting. Why did you leave Nature Theater of Oklahoma?
Zachary Oberzan: Without going into the social entanglements: for each of us, it was time to take a different direction. We had met at school and worked closely together for fifteen years, a superteam! After doing really beautiful things with a partner, it’s a good idea to distance yourself. Even though it hurts. Lennon and McCartney also made great art, but they went their separate ways. I stopped too. Because I really can do everything myself. Working hard is something I like doing. These days, I do have a small team. I pay a producer, a manager, and a technician. But I don’t rule out any collaborations.
How did you come up with the idea of working with your brother on Your Brother. Remember?
Oberzan: We come from a dysfunctional family. My brother and I, moreover, didn’t have much in common. As teenagers, we found a shared interest in films: Jean-Claude Van Damme in Kickboxer and the Faces of Death series. We were really into making our own versions: great, stupid, and fun. Those first home videos are now 24 years old. I had absolutely no idea that twenty years later a new project would emerge from them. Gator and I didn’t talk to each other for ten years. We were each grappling with our own problems. Acting out again those scenes we had done when we were young was a way of seeking for a rapprochement, a therapy. And we were also testing whether we could conjure up our youthful innocence and happy times again. Flashes of them came back and our relationship improved. Your Brother. Remember? is a love letter to my brother and to Jean-Claude Van Damme – whom I regard as an honorary brother.
Zachary Oberzan: Without going into the social entanglements: for each of us, it was time to take a different direction. We had met at school and worked closely together for fifteen years, a superteam! After doing really beautiful things with a partner, it’s a good idea to distance yourself. Even though it hurts. Lennon and McCartney also made great art, but they went their separate ways. I stopped too. Because I really can do everything myself. Working hard is something I like doing. These days, I do have a small team. I pay a producer, a manager, and a technician. But I don’t rule out any collaborations.
How did you come up with the idea of working with your brother on Your Brother. Remember?
Oberzan: We come from a dysfunctional family. My brother and I, moreover, didn’t have much in common. As teenagers, we found a shared interest in films: Jean-Claude Van Damme in Kickboxer and the Faces of Death series. We were really into making our own versions: great, stupid, and fun. Those first home videos are now 24 years old. I had absolutely no idea that twenty years later a new project would emerge from them. Gator and I didn’t talk to each other for ten years. We were each grappling with our own problems. Acting out again those scenes we had done when we were young was a way of seeking for a rapprochement, a therapy. And we were also testing whether we could conjure up our youthful innocence and happy times again. Flashes of them came back and our relationship improved. Your Brother. Remember? is a love letter to my brother and to Jean-Claude Van Damme – whom I regard as an honorary brother.
Where did that fascination with Van Damme come from?
Oberzan: I’m struck by the similarities between his life, mine, and my brother’s. When I watch Kickboxer these days, I think it’s a superb film. I have met Van Damme, an exceptionally interesting human being, a number of times. What a mercurial, strange man! Plot doesn’t mean much to me in cinema. I’m more interested in the people than in suspension of disbelief. So I have nothing but respect and admiration for Van Damme.
Oberzan: I’m struck by the similarities between his life, mine, and my brother’s. When I watch Kickboxer these days, I think it’s a superb film. I have met Van Damme, an exceptionally interesting human being, a number of times. What a mercurial, strange man! Plot doesn’t mean much to me in cinema. I’m more interested in the people than in suspension of disbelief. So I have nothing but respect and admiration for Van Damme.
This is not exactly a cheerful show. It shows that you guys didn’t get much love. It also looks at Gator’s drugs problem. Why do so many people laugh?
Oberzan: I always put humour into it. What I find funny and what the audience finds funny, however, are often miles apart. For example, hardly anyone laughs at the story of poop, the tale of how my brother, when he was in prison, made a candy bar out of shit. I find that hilarious. But the 120 times that I have played this show, things were deadly still in the theatre – apart from a little sniggering. Reactions ranged from disgust to bafflement. When Jean-Claude Van Damme cries in front of the camera, everyone is doubled up. If my brother does that, everyone is ill at ease. The piece is about what people accept and how generous they are in their sympathy.
(Photo on the left: © Nicole Schuchard)
Tell Me Love Is Real is based on a very difficult period. You literally ask yourself what life means and why we “are stuck with our lives, like being forced to read a crazy crime novel.”
Oberzan: I struggle every day with the why of life. I also went through a number of episodes in which I didn’t reckon it was worth the effort any more. Lots of intellectuals write about questions of life and death. According to Camus, there is just one philosophical question: whether or not to commit suicide. I have tried it and afterwards I had a more abstract outlook on existential questions. Sadly, for me the line between life and death remains very thin. Every day I have to actively think up reasons to do things, to remain occupied, to come into contact with other people. Sometimes even, to brush my teeth. That’s simply part of my brain: I suffer from extreme depression. In the show, I ask the audience to help. So the cliché of the artist who searches for himself in his work is true of me. I’m conscious of that. So I try to avoid self-pity and to offer a personal message that other people can identify with.
Oberzan: I always put humour into it. What I find funny and what the audience finds funny, however, are often miles apart. For example, hardly anyone laughs at the story of poop, the tale of how my brother, when he was in prison, made a candy bar out of shit. I find that hilarious. But the 120 times that I have played this show, things were deadly still in the theatre – apart from a little sniggering. Reactions ranged from disgust to bafflement. When Jean-Claude Van Damme cries in front of the camera, everyone is doubled up. If my brother does that, everyone is ill at ease. The piece is about what people accept and how generous they are in their sympathy.
(Photo on the left: © Nicole Schuchard)
Tell Me Love Is Real is based on a very difficult period. You literally ask yourself what life means and why we “are stuck with our lives, like being forced to read a crazy crime novel.”
Oberzan: I struggle every day with the why of life. I also went through a number of episodes in which I didn’t reckon it was worth the effort any more. Lots of intellectuals write about questions of life and death. According to Camus, there is just one philosophical question: whether or not to commit suicide. I have tried it and afterwards I had a more abstract outlook on existential questions. Sadly, for me the line between life and death remains very thin. Every day I have to actively think up reasons to do things, to remain occupied, to come into contact with other people. Sometimes even, to brush my teeth. That’s simply part of my brain: I suffer from extreme depression. In the show, I ask the audience to help. So the cliché of the artist who searches for himself in his work is true of me. I’m conscious of that. So I try to avoid self-pity and to offer a personal message that other people can identify with.
You find the answer in love. So the story is a positive one, after all?
Oberzan: Love in all its forms saves a person’s life. It is a very bogus answer, but it is a raft to float on in this vast, meaningless ocean. But is love really genuine? Is it an invention of our brain? Something chemical? Or something between animals? The show – the title, by the way, comes from an old Buddy Holly song – deconstructs those ideas about love. I want to see another person saying that love is genuine. And then I’ll believe it.
ZACHARY OBERZAN • FLOODING WITH LOVE FOR THE KID (film), 10/4, 14.00, free, YOUR BROTHER. REMEMBER? (performance/theatre) 11 & 12/4, 20.30, €8/10/12, TELL ME LOVE IS REAL (performance/theatre), 18 & 19/4, 20.30, €8/10/12 Beursschouwburg, www.beursschouwburg.be
Oberzan: Love in all its forms saves a person’s life. It is a very bogus answer, but it is a raft to float on in this vast, meaningless ocean. But is love really genuine? Is it an invention of our brain? Something chemical? Or something between animals? The show – the title, by the way, comes from an old Buddy Holly song – deconstructs those ideas about love. I want to see another person saying that love is genuine. And then I’ll believe it.
ZACHARY OBERZAN • FLOODING WITH LOVE FOR THE KID (film), 10/4, 14.00, free, YOUR BROTHER. REMEMBER? (performance/theatre) 11 & 12/4, 20.30, €8/10/12, TELL ME LOVE IS REAL (performance/theatre), 18 & 19/4, 20.30, €8/10/12 Beursschouwburg, www.beursschouwburg.be
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