A gripping theatrical experience and a haunting lesson in the fragility of reason against the storms of the human mind
‘A gripping theatrical experience and a haunting lesson in the fragility of reason against the storms of the human mind’
From the opening lines of Dr Freud Will See You Now, Mrs Hitler! I felt that rare thrill when theatre blurs into lived history. Written by Laurence Marks and Maurice Gran , the script is so meticulously researched and sharply written that for stretches of the evening I could almost believed the meeting between Sigmund Freud and Adolf Hitler truly took place. The language, the psychological detail, the wry humour, all of it carried the authority of truth, even as Freud’s daughter (our narrator) reminds us it is an exercise of imagination.
That layered text gives the play an undeniable cinematic quality. I could easily see it adapted into a film: the pacing, the sly shifts between narration and direct action, the taut exchanges that read like finely crafted screen dialogue. Yet the intimacy of live theatre, being only a few feet from the actors, added something a camera could never capture. In moments of fury or revelation, their intensity felt as if it pierced the very air between us, cutting straight to the core.
The title itself signals the play’s central provocation. Immediately I thought of the eternal debate over nature versus nurture, the archetypal tug-of-war between mother and father, tenderness and tyranny. Throughout the play the shadow of the almost absent, abusive father looms large: the classic “monster” origin story. We follow Hitler from a wounded child to a volatile adult, each scene a speculative encounter with Freud, as though therapy might divert the course of history.
But, as Freud’s daughter gently prods us to consider, could it have changed anything? My own conclusion leans toward no. This Hitler, crafted with unnerving plausibility, is a narcissist and a psychopath. He would have found some excuse to feed his hunger for power and cruelty. In this imagining, the very man who might have “cured” him becomes, ironically, a catalyst, the push Hitler needs to crown himself the “hero” he believes he must be.
The script slyly references Otto Rank’s The Myth of the Birth of the Hero, which unpacks how so many hero myths are really about the child’s Oedipal struggle and the tension with the father figure as authority, repression, and violence, versus the pull toward the mother as nurture and protection. In this play, the symbolism cuts even deeper. When Freud hypnotises the partially blind Hitler, it feels less like healing and more like another form of control. The father figure once again exerts power over the child. For a moment Freud and Hitler’s biological father blur into one archetype: abuser, tyrant, authority. And rather than freeing him, the “voice” Hitler hears under hypnosis becomes a prophecy twisted to his own ends, a dark justification for the monstrous path ahead.
The acting was superb across the board. Each performer inhabited their role with precision and depth, from Freud’s wry intellect to Hitler’s unnerving volatility. The set design is spot on: period-appropriate furniture, the classic therapist’s couch, and stark written panels, all evoking the early 20th-century Viennese consulting room while allowing the psychological drama to take centre stage.
Darkly funny in flashes, painfully relevant throughout, this play speaks urgently to the present as well. As we watch new crises unfold around the world, we’re reminded that the making of a “monster” is never just history. It’s a pattern humanity may face again. Dr Freud Will See You Now, Mrs Hitler! is both a gripping theatrical experience and a haunting lesson in the fragility of reason against the storms of the human mind.