Ich, Akira

In the organizer's words:

Monologue play for a dog with a question by Noëlle Haeseling and Leo Meier

People love their dogs. Dogs love their humans. Akira is a dog, and he loves his human, Attila.

Attila took Akira from the animal shelter when he was a baby, nursed and raised him, washed him, brushed him, cuddled him, everything. "My dad Attila even cleaned up my poop," says Akira, and that he, for his part, was there every time dad did something important: When Dad opened his first vegan snack bar, when Dad wrote his third vegan cookbook, when Dad publicly campaigned for animal welfare and organic food, when Dad attached a Reich flag to the hood of his Porsche and drove around in it, when Dad shouted something about Hitler into a megaphone at a rally, when Dad was insulted on Instagram ("Hirsehitler", "Avocadolf"), when Dad got his first criminal complaint, when Dad ran away to Turkey. Attila Hildmann. Vegan, self-made man, anti-Semite, racist. Beloved man and dad to Akira.

A dog speaks, we listen. At the end, he will ask us a question that has it all.