“What is this? Is it a plane crash? Are they chasing kangaroos, or what is going on here?”
As the lights dim, a dog wags its tail as it looks up at its master, a tall, clean-cut man whose silhouette fills the doorway leading to the Roode Bioscoop’s cozy dressing room. The pair are tough to separate, the young pup’s presence as necessary as drumsticks to Han Bennink, the canine’s doting owner. Bennink takes a moment to pet his pal before heading up the aisle to perform for a small but erudite audience made up mostly of friends and longtime admirers.
The Roode Bioscoop, a former Communist movie theater (, or red, relating to the venue’s political leanings rather than a wall
