The porcupine anniversary program: I still have a Tesla in Berlin

Berlin’s political cabaret gets a futuristic twist in Ich hab’ noch einen Tesla in Berlin, a fast-moving show about debt, power, rent, cars, and a capital that may be Germany’s last valuable possession. I like the clever 2028 setting and the way the story turns current political tensions into comic theater. I also like that you see the performers up close in Die Stachelschweine, one of Berlin’s best-known cabaret venues.

The main consideration is simple but important: the performance is entirely in German, and the humor depends on wordplay, political references, and timing. If you understand German well, this can be a lively night out. If you do not, the two-hour show may be difficult to follow.

Key points at a glance

• A 2028 political fantasy: Germany faces crushing debt, high prices, corporate flight, and a possible sale of Berlin.
• A classic Berlin cabaret setting: The theater entrance is in the basement of the Europacenter.
• Three named performers: Santina Maria Schrader, Mirja Henking, and Sebastian Stert lead the show.
• Music and black humor: The production mixes songs, satire, and quick comic scenes rather than offering a straight play.
• German is required: This is not a visual comedy that you can easily follow without the language.
• A flexible two-hour plan: Tickets cost $45 per person, with free cancellation up to 24 hours before the performance.

Entering Die Stachelschweine beneath the Europacenter

Your evening begins at the entrance to Die Stachelschweine, located in the basement of Berlin’s Europacenter. That location gives the experience an urban, central feel before the curtain even rises. You are not heading out to a distant theater district or a large concert hall. You are going into one of Berlin’s dedicated cabaret spaces, where the audience sits close to the action.

The venue is presented as Berlin’s first cabaret theater. That matters because cabaret in Germany is not simply a night of stand-up comedy. It often mixes political commentary, theater, music, caricature, and social criticism. The format gives performers room to respond to public life in a sharper way than a standard musical or comedy show.

You should plan to arrive before the performance begins. Your voucher must be exchanged at the box office, and you choose a seating category rather than a specific seat. That means the ticket gives you a general level of seating, but you do not control the precise place where you will sit.

The activity lasts about two hours and ends back at the theater. Since there is no extended walking route or group transfer, the schedule is easy to fit around other plans in Berlin. Check the available start times when booking, since the performance schedule can vary.

The future Berlin imagined for 2028

The show opens its comic world in 2028, with Germany facing a chain of political and economic problems. Chancellor Wagenknecht and Vice Chancellor Pistorius are under pressure as national debt keeps rising. A cheese roll costs 14 euros. BASF and Bayer have moved to Asia, while Volkswagen and BMW belong to Tesla.

The details are deliberately absurd, but the joke works because the problems are recognizable. Rising prices, industrial decline, foreign ownership, public debt, and political promises are all pushed into one exaggerated future. The show does not ask you to treat the scenario as a forecast. It uses the future as a funhouse mirror for the present.

Germany’s credit rating has fallen to BB, and half of all taxes go toward interest payments. In this version of the country, even ordinary public spending has become hard to sustain. That sets up the central political problem: how can the government pay for its promises when the national budget is already in trouble?

This premise gives the performers plenty to work with. The humor comes not only from individual jokes, but from the collision of grand election promises with very ungrand financial facts. Retirement at 55, free public transport, and rent controls at 1989 levels sound attractive. The trouble is paying for them.

The secret plan to sell Berlin

Vice Chancellor Pistorius proposes a solution. He calculates that Chancellor Wagenknecht could fund the promises with one bold measure: sell off Berlin as Germany’s silverware.

That idea drives the story. Berlin becomes more than a city in the plot. It becomes a piece of national property, a political bargaining chip, and a symbol of how far a government might go when the accounts no longer add up. A well-known electric car developer and owner of a microblogging service acts quickly, and the plan begins to take shape.

The setup is pointed without being heavy. Berlin is famous for its political identity, its cultural life, and its reputation for doing things differently. Turning the capital into something that can be bought and sold lets the show poke at government, technology billionaires, privatization, and the idea that everything has a price.

The story then follows the classic cabaret pattern: an apparently clever plan creates more problems than it solves. The promise that nothing can go wrong is followed by the certainty that everything will go wrong. That reversal keeps the pace moving and gives the cast a steady supply of political targets.

You should expect satire rather than a carefully plotted political thriller. The story exists to create comic situations, sharp exchanges, and musical moments. If you enjoy fast changes of mood and exaggerated public figures, the premise should give you plenty to follow.

Three performers, quick scenes, and musical punch

Santina Maria Schrader, Mirja Henking, and Sebastian Stert perform the show. Their work is supported by writing from Frank Lüdecke and Sören Sieg, with Lüdecke also directing. Luca Fazioli provides the music, and Martin Rosengarten handles the arrangements.

The production combines spoken scenes with music. That mix is central to the cabaret style. A song can mock a political position in a few minutes, then give way to a scene that takes aim at a government plan or a powerful business figure. The result is more varied than a series of speeches or a single long comedy routine.

The show is described as fast-paced, topical, and subtle. Those three qualities point to the kind of evening you are buying. It is not a slow character drama. It is built around current ideas, rapid comic turns, and social criticism that may reward close attention.

I especially like the way the production uses Berlin serenity alongside panic. The city is treated as a place that can face ridiculous danger with a certain dry calm. When the secret plan begins to unravel, the comedy comes from watching official certainty collapse while the city keeps its ironic cool.

The black humor may not suit every audience. Political satire can be pointed, and the show’s targets include government leaders, economic systems, large companies, and technology entrepreneurs. You are likely to enjoy it most if you like comedy that asks you to think about the joke after you have laughed.

Why the German language matters so much

German fluency is required. This is the most important booking detail.

Political cabaret relies heavily on language. A translated summary can explain the story, but it cannot carry every pun, political reference, vocal inflection, or change in meaning. Even if you understand some German, you should consider how comfortably you can follow rapid dialogue for two hours.

The central storyline is clear enough from its premise: Germany is in debt, Berlin may be sold, and the plan falls apart. But the pleasure of the show lies in the details. The sharper jokes will likely come through only if you can follow the language as it is performed.

This makes the experience a strong choice for German-speaking visitors and people who already enjoy German theater. It is a weaker choice if you are searching for a performance that communicates mainly through music, movement, or visual spectacle.

The show is uncensored, according to its description, so you can expect direct political commentary rather than a carefully softened version of the subject matter. That is part of the appeal, but it also means the evening is best approached as adult political comedy, not a neutral introduction to Berlin.

What the $45 ticket includes

The ticket costs $45 per person and includes admission to Ich hab’ noch einen Tesla in Berlin at Die Stachelschweine. You are paying for a two-hour live performance, not a guided tour of the Europacenter or a broader Berlin sightseeing package.

The value depends mainly on your interest in German-language theater. If you would otherwise buy a ticket for an evening performance, $45 is a reasonable price for a dedicated cabaret production with named performers, original writing, music, and a central location. The small-group booking limit of six participants may also appeal to people who prefer a more personal arrangement than a large organized outing, though the performance itself is still a theater event rather than a private show.

The price is less attractive if you cannot follow German. In that case, you may understand the broad scenario but miss much of the wordplay that gives political cabaret its force. Paying for a performance you cannot comfortably understand is rarely good value.

You can reserve now and pay later, which helps if your Berlin schedule is still changing. Free cancellation is available up to 24 hours in advance for a full refund. Those terms reduce the risk of booking a performance before your daily plans are completely settled.

Seating, timing, and the box office routine

You can choose a seating category, but not an exact seat. If sitting close to the stage matters to you, select the best available category rather than expecting to choose a particular chair. The booking system does not promise a specific location within that category.

Before the performance, exchange your voucher at the box office. Do not treat the digital voucher as your final admission ticket. Give yourself enough time to find the theater entrance in the basement of the Europacenter and complete the exchange before the show starts.

The two-hour length is well suited to an evening plan. You can build dinner or a walk around the performance, but you should avoid scheduling another timed activity too close afterward. A live show has a fixed start and end, and the box office exchange adds one small task before you take your seat.

The activity returns you to the meeting point because the theater is both the starting place and the ending place. There is no separate return transfer to arrange. The venue is wheelchair accessible, another useful point for planning, though the ticket details still require you to select a seating category rather than an exact seat.

Who will enjoy this Berlin cabaret

I would recommend the show to you if you meet most of these conditions:

• You understand German comfortably.
• You enjoy political comedy and current affairs satire.
• You like live theater with music rather than a conventional sightseeing tour.
• You want an evening in a traditional Berlin cabaret setting.
• You are comfortable with black humor and direct political criticism.
• You appreciate comedy that mixes entertainment with social commentary.

The production may be especially rewarding for people who follow German politics. The names, policies, and institutions in the story will carry extra meaning if you already know the public debates being parodied.

It can also suit a repeat visitor who has already seen Berlin’s major sights. Instead of another view from a tower or another museum route, you get a local cultural experience built around the city’s political character.

I would be cautious about booking it for children or for anyone expecting a language-independent show. The available information describes an uncensored political cabaret, not a family performance. It also requires German, and that requirement is central rather than minor.

The tone: laugh first, think afterward

One of the strongest reasons to choose this program is its balance. It aims to make you laugh, but it also asks you to notice what sits underneath the joke. The economic figures are ridiculous, yet the concerns about public debt, housing, transport, industrial change, and private power are familiar.

That combination gives the evening more staying power than a collection of disconnected jokes. You follow a story about a national crisis, watch politicians produce a drastic answer, and then see the answer generate fresh chaos. The comedy has a clear engine.

The production also carries the weight of a 75th anniversary program for Die Stachelschweine. That does not turn the performance into a history lecture. Instead, it places this new satire within a long-running cabaret tradition. The anniversary gives the theater a reason to present a large, topical program with music and a strong comic premise.

The best response to this kind of show is to arrive ready for both sides of it. You may laugh at the 14-euro cheese roll, the Tesla takeover, or the plan to sell Berlin. You may also leave thinking about why those jokes feel close to real public arguments.

Should you book Ich hab’ noch einen Tesla in Berlin?

Book it if you speak German and want an evening of sharp Berlin political theater. The $45 price is fair for a two-hour live cabaret performance, especially with music, three performers, original writing, and a central venue. The 2028 premise is specific enough to give the show a story, while the political targets keep it topical.

Skip it if you need English, prefer a quiet drama, or want an activity that introduces Berlin without requiring cultural and political context. This is not a sightseeing stop with a few jokes added. It is a language-heavy cabaret show.

For the right audience, it offers a close look at Berlin’s comic side: dry, political, musical, and willing to imagine the worst possible solution to a national crisis. Just confirm the start time, arrive early to exchange your voucher, and choose your seating category with care.

FAQ

Where does the cabaret performance take place?

The performance takes place at Die Stachelschweine. The theater entrance is in the basement of the Europacenter in Berlin.

How long does the activity last?

The performance lasts about two hours.

What does the ticket include?

The ticket includes admission to Ich hab’ noch einen Tesla in Berlin at Die Stachelschweine.

Is the performance in English?

No. The play is performed in German, and knowledge of German is required.

Can I choose my exact seat?

No. You can choose a seating category, but the exact seat is not selectable.

Do I need to exchange my voucher?

Yes. You must exchange your voucher at the box office before the performance begins.

Is the theater wheelchair accessible?

Yes. The activity is listed as wheelchair accessible.

Can I cancel the booking?

Yes. You can cancel up to 24 hours in advance for a full refund. You can also reserve now and pay later.