A political prisoner in a cell as a symbol of defiance. Written by dissident and writer Václav Havel.

They are virtually invisible and nameless, yet the most powerful fear them: those who dare to confront tyrannical regimes and make their voices heard. Their stories give hope that the world might be a better place, albeit slightly. They shine as rays of light in tyranny and darkness. Ever more such female writers, journalists, students, artists, workers, and others raise across totalitarian states.

One of them was a playwright turned president Vaclav Havel, who was jailed as a political prisoner before being elected to the superior office. In early 1989, he wrote a letter to his wife from the prison cell, containing an absurd farce about the routines of a convict. The text, titled Perpetuum mobile, is the main source of inspiration for the production. Apart from Havel’s prison experience, the creators follow from the testimony of Belarusian prisoner of conscience Palina Sharenda-Panasiuk and her friends, art installations and narratives by Chinese dissident and artist Ai Weiwei, and oral statements given by current Russian political prisoners in courts.

The production directed by Petr Boháč and featuring a sole performer, Roman Zotov-Mikshin, follows on their successful joint piece The Last of Soviets, praised by French critics: “Les performances de Roman Zotov-Mikshin révèlent un cri de l'âme.” (La Provance) or “les artistes rendent un hommage vibrant et glaçant à ceux dont la voix a été ou est bâillonnée.” (M La Scène)