Serbian National Theatre, premiere 26th March 2025
Written in 1930, The Centrifugal Dancer is Todor Manojlović’s first play. Steeped in the spirit of Romanticism and the avant-garde, it laid the foundations of modern Serbian drama. The play was staged that same year and has not been performed since. Now the dust has been brushed off this interwar drama by the well-coordinated creative team of director Jug Đorđević and dramaturg Tijana Grumić, together with the ensemble of the Serbian National Theatre.
Understanding the title reveals the meaning and significance of the play in a contemporary context. Set in a seaside resort, the mysterious floor dancer and dreamer Bil (Vukašin Ranđelović) falls in love with the passionate, spoiled, and untamable minister’s daughter, Liliana (Ivana Pančić Dobrodolac). They discuss the importance of living freely. This centrifugal leap, a break from the monotonous, enclosed, familiar, and outdated, is the core idea of the piece. Liliana becomes enchanted by this concept, which becomes the foundation of their mutual recognition. As she says: “To jump out of the carousel! Going round and round, to the same supposedly rich and exciting, but monotonous and hollow music, in the same tastelessly decorated golden carriages that never touch the ground. I would also like to jump out of those desperate carriages, to be flung out centrifugally from that dazzling and foolish enchanted circle.”
However, a centrifugal escape from the cyclical repetition of history does not exist, so Bil will ultimately return to war by the end of the play. While the central plot focuses on the melodramatic romance between two young people who come from different social classes and share a forbidden love, the play conveys a powerful message about social inequality, the unavoidable suffering of war, and the pain and trauma of past conflicts from which we have learned nothing.
The play successfully avoids instilling a sense of helplessness, which is quite an achievement given the themes they explore. It is the symbols that Todor Manojlović skilfully incorporates into the text, and the director consistently follows their meaning that enabled that. The lovers meet in the water, the resort is located by the sea, and a hotel guest gazes up at the sky. Water and the sky are symbols of life’s dynamism. As The Dictionary of Symbols says: “Everything comes from the sea and everything returns to the sea. It is a place of birth, transformation, and rebirth. The sea, as moving water, symbolizes the transitional state between abstract possibilities and concrete realities.” This realm of intuition, metaphysics, and the beyond, within which a grounded narrative unfolds, provides a sense of lightness and comfort. The set design reflects the inseparable relationship between the sea and sky, with the actors remaining in the hotel hall throughout the performance, standing on a parquet floor that extends up the wall. This parquet flooring also hints at the world of dance, symbolizing an identity from which the dancer cannot escape.
The Centrifugal Dancer, Serbian National Theatre
In addition to the main characters, there is the Secretary (Marko Savić), the Minister (Liliana’s father, Aleksandar Gajin), and the Advisor (Milorad Kapor), all presented as archetypes. Significantly, they are identified solely by their social roles, which strips them of individuality. Their purpose is to serve as a backdrop, casting an even stronger spotlight on Bil and Liliana. Although their characters are psychologically simple, the three actors performed their roles effectively. As representatives of the old, traditional, established, and static order, they naturally become objects of ridicule and frequent subjects of conflict between the old and the young in avant-garde literature. They are the ones from whom one longs to be centrifugally launched away. Their opposites are the workers (Anđela Pećinar, Rade Perović) and the hotel owner (Sanja Mikitišin), who are practically in charge of maintaining order at the resort and represent the lower social class, also destined to be torn apart by the outbreak of a new war. The three actors irresistibly evoke early Hollywood films in the best possible way. Pećinar and Perović struck a perfect balance of humour and have divine singing voices in the musical numbers with the band.
The most emotional and touching scene features an encounter between Oleg, Bil’s wartime comrade, portrayed compellingly by Aleksandar Sarapa, and the Lady, a hotel guest, played with wit and sharpness by Draginja Voganjac. Initially perceived as mad or at least charmingly confused, the Lady occasionally reveals herself to be strikingly lucid and perceptive. She mourns her sons, pilots who never returned from the war, and often gazes up at the sky. Together with Oleg, she concludes that in the sky, in that in-between space, there is no such thing as death. This realization is ultimately shared with Liliana, reinforcing Manojlović’s avant-garde idea that love is a transcendent force capable of saving and liberating us. One could interpret love here as a sudden centrifugal force that appears and frees us from pain. In this adaptation, the female characters (the Lady and Liliana) are far more developed than in the original text. Rather than being passive, subdued figures, they have become characters with agency, making decisions and gaining strength.
Đorđević approaches the play as a dance, with a live band on stage throughout the performance, playing jazz and swing music as couples dance. The men, who will eventually go off to war and become just another statistic, wear numbered costume tags on their suits from the very beginning. This choice helps Todor Manojlović’s world avoid clichés, anachronisms, and outdated ideas, resulting in a fresh and vibrant energy. The smoothness of the performance is largely due to the actors’ playful approach. Through clear articulation, movement, and agility, they bring a text that is nearly a hundred years old to life in a remarkably contemporary way. Ranđelović and Pančić Dobrodolac create a modern, flirtatious tone and expertly shift the dynamics of their relationship without falling into pathos. Dobrodolac Pančić, portraying Liliana, strikes a fine balance between being a spoiled daddy’s girl and a free-spirited young woman eager to change her world.
Ultimately, the impression conveyed is one of pain, heaviness, and bitterness, but there is also a sense of comfort in the understanding that while history repeats itself, so does love.
Author: Todor Manojlović // Director: Jug Đorđević // Dramaturg: Tijana Grumić // Composer: Nevena Glušica // Scenography: Andreja Rondović // Costume: Velimirka Damjanović // Choreography: Milica Sarić
Cast: Draginja Voganjac, Sanja Mikitišin, Aleksandar Gajin, Milorad Kapor, Marko Savić, Vukašin Ranđelović, Ivana Pančić Dobrodolac, Anđela Pećinar, Aleksandar Sarapa, Rade Perović // Musicians: Đorđe Kujundžić, Aljoša Zakić, Kosta Vukašinović, Anja Riđešić, Stefan Jocić, Nemanja Tasić
For more information, visit: SNP
Divna Stojanov is a dramaturg and playwright. She writes mainly for children and young people.
