INTERVIEW - Blocher parodist Walter Andreas Müller: "The Swiss are extremely sensitive when it comes to humor"

When he talks about Federal Councillors like Samuel Schmid or Hans-Rudolf Merz, he suddenly takes on their voices and dialects, so internalized has Walter Andreas Müller's parody characters. We're sitting in the restaurant of the Casinotheater Winterthur, where "Dinner for WAM," a comedy written especially for his eightieth birthday, premieres next week. He says that the participation of such greats as Viktor Giacobbo, Christian Jott Jenni, and Maja Brunner is a great honor.

WAM, as he is known, has remained modest. Yet he is arguably the most popular and successful folk actor in the country. He has been omnipresent for fifty years, whether in the sitcom "Fascht e Familie," as a parodist in countless satirical programs, in dialect plays on stage, or on the radio. WAM has become almost as much a fixture in German-speaking Switzerland as the train station clock or the yellow post office mailboxes.

Mr. Müller, your website says you can be booked as Christoph Blocher. Has he booked you yet?

No, but I don't do that anymore either. Blocher is now at an age where he's slowing down a bit. Young people don't even know him anymore. That's my problem as an old parodist: All my characters are either dead or retired. But Blocher and I have a very good relationship.

You have often said that whenever he needed new glasses, he bought two, one for himself and one for you, for the Blocher parody.

He really appreciated my parodies. Blocher has a great sense of humor; it was always fun when we met. He often came to my premieres, too. Once, he spoke to my mother afterward; she told him how meticulously I prepared for the parodies, including my appearance. I was very careful to wear the right watch, the right glasses, and so on. He said, "It's good that you told me that. Next time I need new glasses, I'll buy two. One for your son and one for myself." When she told me about it, I thought he was joking. But then, shortly afterward, his new glasses actually arrived. I was very happy about that.

What about other Federal Councillors? You often parodied Hans-Rudolf Merz and Samuel Schmid, for example.

Once, we were filming a Samuel Schmid parody in front of the Federal Parliament Building – and by chance, the real Samuel Schmid passed us. We exchanged a few words; he was clearly pleased to see us. Hans-Rudolf Merz called me after a sketch and said he'd like to meet me. We had lunch together and stayed in touch afterward. He just sent me a two-page handwritten letter for my eightieth birthday. That's wonderful.

Is it a compliment if the parodied like the parodist? Or is it a sign that the parodist wasn't sharp enough?

That's a fair question. For me, it was a compliment. I've always treated my characters with great respect, never going below the belt. One mustn't forget that we Swiss don't like it when people take aim at them, which is why we have an ambivalent relationship with parodies. A news anchor once wanted to sue Birgit Steinegger, claiming she had ridiculed her with a parody. The Swiss are incredibly sensitive when it comes to humor. In America or England, it's different; parodists have entirely different options there. Here, you always have to be careful not to offend or hurt anyone.

Today too?

It's gotten a little better. When I started, I wasn't used to it at all; I always had to expect the sensitivity to take over.

Today it may be easier to shoot people, but all kinds of minorities are more easily offended.

Birgit Steinegger felt this more than I did. Once, she parodied a Black African woman, which triggered a tremendous shitstorm. From an acting perspective, I didn't understand it. We play all kinds of roles; it's our job. Socially, it's more understandable, but I still think it's a shame when such a parody becomes a political issue.

Moritz Leuenberger once said that he did not find it funny how he was parodied.

That was a very special case. A few young people asked me to imitate him for a CD production. I only said one line, but it was then played continuously over the large loudspeakers at a demonstration by opponents of the southern corridor approaches on Bundesplatz. Leuenberger heard it through the open window in his office. The next day, his secretary called me and told me that the Federal Councilor was very disappointed in me; he didn't find it funny at all. I apologized to him. I hadn't realized the recording would be used for that purpose. Nevertheless, there was a certain icy period between us afterward. Eventually, things settled down again. We're good friends now.

Although they parodied politicians, it was never about their politics, but rather about the characters. It was essentially political satire without politics.

We certainly didn't just do superficial satire. But we didn't want to take a political stance or be offensive. Birgit Steinegger and I parodied politicians for 28 years on the radio show "Zweierleier." We repeatedly had to defend ourselves against the authors when we felt they went too far. When they insisted on their version, we said, "Please, the ombudsman will just have to sort this out."

Did you never feel like getting involved in politics? Today's satirists often see themselves on a political mission, parodying someone to expose them.

It was always clear to me that, as a parodist on a public broadcaster, I had to do justice to everyone. It would be unfair to take sides. I do have my own personal political views, but I have consciously never made them public. Many artists of my generation handled them that way. Walter Roderer, one of the most successful and popular comedians, was politically far to the right, even further to the right than the SVP. But he, too, never commented on politics because he believed he would otherwise lose part of his audience. That may be petty behavior, but that's just the way I am. I once let myself be persuaded to appear at a political event, but that was a big mistake.

What was there?

In 1992, a large demonstration for EEA accession took place at Zurich's Platzspitz. The atmosphere was tense, and at the same time, EEA opponents were demonstrating in the Münsterhof. The author Charles Lewinsky asked me if I would like to give a speech to the supporters in the guise of Christoph Blocher. He said it would be fun to walk into the lion's den as Blocher. So I agreed. The moderator announced me to the crowd: "Dear friends, I have a surprise: Christoph Blocher has agreed to speak to you." I then stepped up to the microphone. People shouted, swore, and booed me. They didn't realize I wasn't the real Blocher! I was just talking nonsense—that was the plan—but no one was listening. Unfortunately, a film crew from the "Tagesschau" news program was there and showed an excerpt of this speech the next day. This also drew the anger of the EEA opponents onto me. I was verbally abused and received a lot of anonymous mail saying, "We know where you live," and there were even several death threats. That was a shock for me; I was really scared.

Sounds terrible.

I think such reactions also have something to do with the Swiss mentality: We immediately become aggressive when someone steps on our toes. Unfortunately, that's the way it is.

Unlike most comedians, you've never written your own lines. Did that ever appeal to you?

I didn't think I could do it. I thought I couldn't do it. Even though I wrote the radio presentations myself. The only thing I've dared to do is the "Globi" radio plays, which I write myself based on the books. I've never dared to write cabaret scripts, though. I've never directed a play myself either. I think it's wonderful to have such great writers supplying you with material and directors who take care of the production.

You completed classical acting training and initially performed in established city theaters. So, you were at home in a world where people tend to turn up their noses at entertainment. How did you get into the so-called lighter genre?

After my acting training, I spent four years in classical theater in Germany. However, at 1.62 meters tall, I constantly had to play boys, even though I was already 35 years old. Back in Switzerland, I worked at the Winkelwiese Theater in Zurich, where I was still very much into classical theater. To keep myself financially afloat, I also worked in radio. There I met people like Hans Gmür and Kurt Felix, who hired me for other shows. Gmür also asked me if I would like to act in children's Christmas fairy tales; I could play the brave little tailor or Puss in Boots. That's how I got into dialect theater. I then acted alongside Ruedi Walter and Margrit Rainer in the "Little Niederdorf Opera." That opened other doors. Hans Gmür then wrote comedies for me. Suddenly, I was a comedian. Eventually, television came along. None of this was planned; I simply fell into the entertainment scene, almost by accident.

You became really famous through the quiz show “Traumpaar,” in which you played the quarreling couple Adam and Eva Chifler together with Ursula Schaeppi for many years.

Charles Lewinsky came to me and told me about the idea of ​​the Chifler nightmare couple. It was a huge hit. People suddenly recognized me everywhere, and I was passed around from one TV show to the next. It was like a snowball that kept getting bigger. I'm amazed myself: somehow everything fell into my lap. I never had to fight. But I did have to work a lot.

You had the feeling that everywhere you looked there was Walter Andreas Müller.

I was the early Sven Epiney, dancing at many weddings. There were times when I acted in a children's fairy tale in the afternoon, and in the evening I was on stage in the "Niederdorf Opera" (a part of the Corso), which meant I didn't get home until after midnight, but I had to be back in the radio studio at 4:00 a.m. to host the morning show. Sometimes I squeezed in a radio play recording somewhere. I was truly a hard worker, and slept very little. But I never had any money worries.

Today, it's no secret that you live with a man. What was it like at the beginning of your career?

The subject was taboo, even at home. I kept it a secret from my parents that I was gay. This was even more true during my apprenticeship and in secondary school; no one was allowed to find out. Nobody was ever asked about it. I was ashamed back then; I felt like I wasn't normal. I never spoke to my father about the subject at all, not even when I brought my boyfriend home. For him, it was just "a colleague." My mother, on the other hand, confronted me once; she was a psychiatric nurse at Burghölzli. I admitted it to her, and there were many tears. She found it really bad at first, but later accepted it. She also thought my future boyfriend was great. I don't know if she ever talked to my father about it.

What's it like for a young gay man when sexuality is taboo? Do you sneak into a gay bar?

Yes, exactly. Back then, there were two or three gay bars in Zurich, one of them in Seefeld. I remember vividly the first time I went. I was very nervous; I paced back and forth in front of the bar for about half an hour, not daring to go in. I imagined all sorts of things, that the conditions there were like Sodom and Gomorrah. At some point, when I was sure no one was watching, I ventured in. It was a completely normal bar where people were drinking beer. But I was never really involved in the gay scene and rarely went to clubs. That's not my world.

When you were more famous, were you afraid of being outed by the press?

This fear persisted for quite a long time. I admire young people today for how openly they are about everything. I didn't have that courage. Later, it wasn't a problem anymore. In the theater, people are open about it. At some point, my homosexuality actually became a topic in the media. I can't even remember who first made it public—probably Blick. But it hardly triggered any negative reactions.

You have never shown your partner, with whom you have been together for over 35 years, in public.

He had a stroke 16 years ago and is now in a nursing home. Before that, he was a teacher, teaching German as a second language at a secondary school. So, he had contact with many young people from cultures where homosexuality is despised. Outing him could have had serious consequences. There are plenty of cases of gay teachers being attacked. I always kept him away from the public eye to protect him. The school administration and fellow teachers knew, of course, but he wanted to keep it a secret from the students. Now he's a seriously ill man, and there's no question of appearing with him at public events.

As Adam and Eva Chifler, you and Ursula Schaeppi became the nation's heterosexual couple; you played this role on Swiss television for fifteen years. Did your gay friends actually pick on you for that?

No, never. I never considered that it was actually a funny combination. The discussion that heterosexuals shouldn't play gay people, and vice versa, only came up later. I think that's nonsense. It's our job to play a husband or a murderer, to breathe life into the characters, regardless of whether it has anything to do with our private lives. Very often, though, people thought Ursula and I were actually a couple. I was often addressed as "Mr. Schaeppi." Many people also thought Ruedi Walter and Margrit Rainer were a couple.

A few years ago, physical attacks on gay men increased in Zurich. TV presenter Kurt Aeschbacher subsequently criticized the political left for refusing to acknowledge that the perpetrators primarily came from immigrant communities. You remained silent, even though your partner was also affected. Why?

I fully support Kurt Aeschbacher in this matter, but I'm holding back on my own statements. I'm not a gay activist who marches ahead with the flag. I lack the courage and self-confidence for that. I admire colleagues like Viktor Giacobbo, who constantly take political stances, for example, on Platform X. I can't and don't want to do that. While I'm very interested in what's happening in the world, I'm happy to help out behind the scenes if asked, but I prefer to stay in the background. In that sense, I'm a bit like the eighth Federal Councilor.

You've played a huge number of roles over the past few decades, in theater, in TV productions like "Fascht e Familie" and "Lüthi und Blanc," as well as hosting countless radio shows and producing "Globi" radio plays. What are you most proud of?

It's difficult to say. My roots are in theater, in acting. I also did radio for over 40 years, partly to earn money. But I absolutely loved it. The television productions and parodies were also great opportunities. But nothing is as rewarding for an actor as direct contact with the audience. Experiencing immediate reactions. That proverbial spark that jumps across, that energy from the audience – you don't get that in television or radio plays. And that's ultimately what defines our profession.

Birthday comedy «Dinner for WAM» with Walter Andreas Müller, Viktor Giacobbo, Christian Jott Jenny, Maja Brunner and others. Casinotheater Winterthur, 3 to 28 September.