National Theatre, Belgrade, premiere 10th November 2024
Mikhail Bulgakov wrote multiple versions of The Master and Margarita in order to evade censorship, however he still didn’t live to see his most important novel published. This process is reflected in the novel itself, which combines a critique of Soviet society with the study of philosophy, theism and love. We see it in the titular Master’s creative struggles, and also in his mental health issues as well.
Following his sharp and witty dissection of the Novi Sad Theatre (Ujvideki Szinhaz)’s heritage in Once Upon a Time in Novi Sad/Bilo jednom u Novom Sadu, director Andraš Urban similarly utilizes Bulgakov‘s novel to criticize contemporary Serbia, at the same time adding another dimension through the newest socio-political developments in the country itself.
Berlioz (Nedim Nedimović) opens the performance by immediately breaking the fourth wall and speaking about the team’s creative process. This is typical of Urban, whose characteristic metatheatrical elements are present throughout the whole play. The strongest parts of the performance are the humorous references made by Woland (Pavle Jerinić) about contemporary Serbia, from smartphones and fast-fashion stores to the never ending saga of the Belgrade metro system and the culture of endemic corruption, concluding that “It is not the God who exhausts us, but rather the society itself.”
Kata Đarmati’s dramatization preserves the novel’s multi-layered structure with minimal interventions. From the introduction of Berlioz and Ivan Bezdomni (Dragan Sekulić) to the story of Yeshua’s crucifixion and the reunion of two eponymous lovers, the storylines are carefully intertwined to illustrate how the Devil influences the humans’ actions. The overall rhythm of the performance is established by Irena Popović’s music, played live on the piano, providing the musical background to the vocal parts of the performance. All vocal parts are well performed, however the music sections often feel excessive and disruptive to the pace of the performance.
The costuming (Bojana Nikitović and Stefan Savković) mostly presents us with recognisable references, especially in the burlesque-inspired clothing of Woland and his crew, however the most interesting costume belonged to Pontius Pilate (Vanja Ejdus). Instead of an era-appropriate rendition of Pilate‘s clothing, Ejdus wears contemporary clothes paired with Doc Martens boots, the footwear famously linked to numerous subcultures, both skinheads and punks, highlighting the polarising shift in this character‘s beliefs. Additionally, Pilate‘s initial headache is conveyed by an intriguing headpiece which he takes off when the pain is gone.

The Master and Margarita, National Theatre in Belgrade
Urban’s own scenography is mostly minimalistic, enhancing the performance. An oval sign represents the moon, as well as providing a space for relevant slogans to be projected, like “Religion is the opium of the masses.” Coffins and skeletons are added at Voland’s party bringing a danse macabre-ish quality to this scene, while Yeshua’s crucifixion is presented with the large cut-outs of the crucified criminals. Similar cut-outs, this time in the shape of angels, are used by Hella (Vanja Milačić) and Behemoth (Julija Petković), providing a clear but redundant dichotomy between the idea of good and evil.
The performances of Jerinić, as Woland and Vanja Ejdus, as Pontius Pilate, were particularly enjoyable with Jerinić’s Woland nuanced and amusing, showcasing the character‘s diabolical playfulness, while Ejdus’ Pilate steadily and believably establishes the doubt of this initially strong and unwavering character. Even though the Master and Margarita’s love story is inspired by Bulgakov and his wife, with her being the one ultimately to preserve his manuscripts and help in publishing them, I found the highly symbolic love story to be one of the most boring parts of the novel – this is also true of the dramatization. However, the chemistry between Vučković‘s Master and Šargin‘s Margarita is strong and Šargin really captures the passion of her character.
Although I would have preferred a more reconstructed rendition of the brilliant novel, I believe that Bulgakov’s masterpiece was done justice by this performance, which felt particularly relevant in regards to the ongoing student-led anti-corruption protests in Serbia. These protests started with a need to see justice done for the victims of the Novi Sad railway station canopy collapse, and they have grown into a continual national effort. Seeing the Devil tease the audience at the National Theatre in regards to their fears and indifference, supports the idea of the duality of good and evil, reminding each of audience member that “Cowardice is the most terrible of vices.”
Credits:
Director: Andraš Urban//Dramaturgy Kata Đarmati//Scenography Andraš Urban//Costumes Bojana Nikitović i Stefan Savković//Composer Irena Popović// Choreography Gerđe Kristijan
For tickets and more information, visit: Narodnopozoriste.rs
Further reading: Review of Once Upon a Time in Novi Sad
Ana Ogrizović is a dramaturg and screenwriter from Serbia, recognised by multiple poetry, prose and playwriting competitions in the region. She is the author of two books, Let vremenske veštice (2024, Mladi Maj Award) and Ovde ne cvetaju bugenvilije (2023, Prvenac Award Edition). Her work has been translated into English and Italian.