To age is to be granted a privilege. To age in good health and full fitness is a dream we dare not speak aloud, lest we jinx it. To age surrounded by loved ones and friends, while still perfectly recalling the years gone by, seems truly a miracle. Among the heroes and heroines of this year’s Divine Comedy program, there is no shortage of beneficiaries of fate’s generosity, but there are also those from whom longevity is slowly stripping away everything they hold dear and important.

Statistics do not lie; we are an aging society. It is therefore no surprise to see productions that explore this subject with immense empathy and attentiveness, presenting it from various perspectives, without condescension or unnecessary coyness. Thus, there is no shortage of the naked bodies of aging actresses, nor of poignant confessions and stories of illnesses that afflict not only the physical vessel but also our most precious possession—memory.

One certainly cannot deny courage to the star of contemporary European theatre, Florentina Holzinger. In her "A Year Without Summer" (Rok, w którym nie było lata), she lays bare (quite literally) all our contemporary maladies. She speaks without taboo about the body, the environment, disease, anomalies, spreading decay, and old age as an immanent part of life. The Austrian artist treats old age as yet another, though at times unbearable, stage of life—burdened with illness and a lack of full fitness, reliant on the help of others. Meanwhile, in "The Restless Retirement Home" (Dom niespokojnej starości), Michał Buszewicz weaves a tale of a senior utopia that might just come true. The play’s protagonists are elderly friends who decide to create a shared living space. The director focuses not merely on the motif of cohousing; there is also ample reflection on the sexuality of older people, their relationships with loved ones, and contemplations on ultimate matters.

Celebrating another birthday of the head of the family can be a perfect occasion not only for reminiscing about youth but also for bitter confrontations with the past. Małgorzata Bogajewska’s "The Celebration" (Uroczystość) is a brutal reckoning with the esteemed father of a multi-generational family. The titular event becomes a pretext for the ghosts of the past to take a seat at the dinner table alongside the guests. The protagonist of the monodrama "My Name Is Hanka" (Mianujom mie Hanka), directed by Mirosław Neinert, also reaches back into her memories. The actress from the Silesian Theatre has created an unforgettable role, through which she tells the story of the fate of a woman and a Silesian—as strong as she is experienced by fate and history. The production does not shy away from humor, and Grażyna Bułka moves virtuoso-like between different tones, holding the audience’s attention from the beginning to the very end of her monodrama.

The protagonists of Anna Karasińska’s "What I’ve forgotten" (Was ich vergessen habe) will no longer share their memories. The director explores the experience of old age paired with dementia, examining the phenomena of memory and forgetting. The production demonstrates the power of the artistic strategies developed by the director and the necessity of retelling the story of what connects and divides us—precisely so that we do not forget. Music seems to be the remedy that, if only for a moment, anchors the author’s grandmother in the present in "Reminiscence" (Reminiscencja). From a micro-story about loving grandparents, Malicho Vaca Valenzuela spins a tale of the collective memory of the city and inhabitants of Santiago de Chile. This incredibly sensitive, political, and intimate biographical documentary essay provokes us to ask: what will become of our traces when we are no longer here?

Take a look at the festival program to meet all the divine heroes and heroines, regardless of their age.

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