First Time Ever: Freek Disappoints

The other night I saw the latest show of Dutch comedian and theater star, Freek de Jonge. I've been a fan since the 1970s, when he made waves as a leading member of Neerlands Hoop. They came up during the late 1960s, were of the left (the thinking left), which meant critical of the United States and its war in Vietnam, among many other things. (Did I mention they were also a killer rock band? Well, they were). During the 1970s, one could say in hindsight, they became prominent representatives of a push-back from below against the Cold War order, especially its disregard for human rights (whether these were violated in communist countries or under right-wing dictatorships). In 1978 they launched a campaign for a Dutch boycott of the soccer world cup in Argentina, where a right-wing military dictatorship was busy jailing and killing its political opponents. Today, even a member of the victorious Argentine squad argues that the tournament should not have been held, and I wish I had been more sympathetic to Freek's campaign. (Instead, as a seventeen-year old, I was rooting very hard for the Dutch team, and I remember being heartbroken when they lost the final match against Argentina, certainly not staying for the party Jurriaan van Wessem had organized at his house). Not too long after that, Freek struck out on his own, putting together a long series of brilliant one-person shows. As far as I've been able to track his career the past 20 years (I own a lot of it on cd), he has continued to push himself and his audience in programs that are invariably original (though usually addressing similar themes) and searching, not to mention extremely funny. Just last spring I came away very impressed from De Laatste Lach: after all these years, and still dealing with his familiar themes (let's call it: the meaning of life) he continues to make it interesting. But not this week with De Limiet. Freek himself said it best in the current VPRO gids: he can do a show like this on auto-pilot. Unfortunately, it showed. He seems to have written the thing on auto-pilot, and even a performer of his ability could not really take this material (just sports--a mistake, in hindsight) beyond its very obvious limits. After the break there was a musical part unrelated to the first half, which gave the whole evening a slapped-together kind-of feel. It wasn't a disaster, it just wasn't up to Freek's own high standards. If you're in Holland, you can see for yourself: tonight, Friday, they'll show De Limiet on tv; next Friday, it will be De Laatste Lach.