I was tipped off before the show started about what had happened elsewhere on this play’s international tour. In February 2026, in Bochum, North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany, one of the cast was yelled at, then had fruit hurled at them, before two patrons got on the stage, allegedly with a view to dragging the actor off the stage. The attempt did not succeed. At the National Theatre, there was some isolated whistling towards the end of the play and, at least from my vantage point, some deep sighs of frustration at what was going on, but the actor who had the floor for an extended period wasn’t in danger of being assaulted, as far as I could deduce.
To explain either the rather British reaction to proceedings as well as the more visceral response elsewhere requires delving into spoiler territory. Catarina Eufémia (1928-1954) was killed during a workers’ strike. She and some other workers complained to their employer, wanting an increase in pay. The supervisor was sufficiently spooked by the demand that he called the police, and to cut a long story short, a police lieutenant shot Eufémia three times, shattering her vertebrae. As this play would have it, a family whose members all identify as Catarina, regardless of gender, to this day seek to avenge Eufémia’s murder by continuing the anti-fascist resistance which Eufémia was a part of. Every year, they hatch a plan to kidnap a member of the far-right and shoot them three times, just like Eufémia was shot three times.
The play, which rattles on for 150 minutes (that is, two-and-a-half hours) without an interval, explores strong arguments both in support of and against continuing this annual ritual. After all, if they keep doing it, how effective is it at keeping the far-right at bay, given that, in the world of this play, the far-right have secured a parliamentary majority in Portugal? It was, to me at least, an intriguing back-and-forth: is killing fascists itself a rather fascist thing to do? Far from a dry and academic consideration of the ethics and morals of using violence to fight fascism, this play considers the personal convictions of those in the family who really believe killing fascists is the way to deal with them, and those who are wondering how much of a deterrent it really is if they’ve been doing it for decades with no end in sight.
Now for the aforementioned spoiler: this year’s captured fascist gets to speak, and gets the final word of the play. But his monologue rattles on for possibly twenty minutes or so, though it felt considerably longer, because it went on and on, in the manner in which far-right speeches go on and on. Tedium was a rather odd way to end a play that had, until that point, been mostly riveting. There was condemnation of minorities, hate speech, and even an outright denial that there should be any form of state intervention with regards to domestic violence. I’m still not sure what to make of it: the speech wasn’t delivered particularly impressively, aside from the actor’s ability to remember that many lines, especially as the whole show was in Portuguese with English surtitles, such that there was no room for ad-libbing or saying the lines in a slightly muddled order. I was also under the impression that the actor didn’t really believe anything they were saying themselves (fair enough), though there might also have been an attempt at conveying the character’s lack of independent thought, for instance when there was talk of following the instructions of ‘the leader’ and towing the party line. Still, it explains why some people wanted the actor off the stage. (Or even wished there was a unanimous backing in favour of shooting their character after all.)
It wasn’t wall-to-wall fascism and anti-fascism – there was talk of swallows (the play could have done better to explain the bird’s symbolic meaning in Portuguese culture), veganism (the annual fascist killing ritual involves a family feast) and the notable works of Bertolt Brecht. The humour in the play is, as one might expect given the subject matter, sometimes very dark indeed, but also, given the subject matter, very much needed. It’s not didactic – there’s nothing to suggest there is a definitive way to combat fascism. In a hurried and harried world, this production is nuanced, unsettling and thoughtful.
Review by Chris Omaweng
South Portugal, 2028. Catarina is about to kill her first fascist. It is a rite of passage, steeped in tradition and family lore. A day of celebration, of beauty and death.
But when Catarina refuses to kill the hostage, her decision drives a wedge between the family. As ghosts of the past arise, unresolved questions emerge – what is the price of democracy? Is there room for violence in the fight for a better world?
THE COMPANY
Isabel Abreu
Romeu Costa
António Fonseca
Beatriz Maia
Marco Mendonça
António Parra
Caroline Passos Sousa
João Vicente
CREATIVES
Text, Direction – Tiago Rodrigues
Artistic Collaboration – Magda Bizarro
Stage Design – F. Ribeiro
Light – Nuno Meira
Costumes – José António Tenente
Sound Design, Original Music – Pedro Costa
Choirmaster, Vocal Arrangements – João Henriques
Voiceovers – Nadezhda Bocharova, Cláudio be Castro, Pedro Moldão and Paula Mora
Choreography – Sofia Dias and Vitor Roriz
Weapon Coordinator – David Chan Cordeiro
Translation (English) – Daniel Hahn
Surtitles – Patricia Pimentel
CATARINA AND THE BEAUTY OF KILLING FASCISTS
National Theatre, 19 to 26 September 2026
International tour continues to 14 May 2027
