A one-woman comedy about love, madness, and modern relationships
The one-woman comedy Crazy About Love! by Katja Restović alias Eva Lucas is a witty yet relentlessly honest theatrical dive into the emotional landscape of the contemporary woman. Through a monologue form, the performance dissects infatuation in the digital age—relationships sparked by messages, calls, apps, and projections that often have little grounding in reality.
The story follows a woman caught in the whirl of a virtual romance: from initial euphoria, erotic charge, and idealisation, to doubt, silence, emotional breakdown, and obsessive self-questioning. The stage is minimalist yet dynamic—the space shifts continuously with the protagonist’s inner state, while the phone, messages, and calls become almost equal “characters” in the piece.
As both author and performer, Restović spares neither herself nor the audience
On the contrary, the text boldly hovers on the edge of discomfort, irony, and dark humour, opening up themes of emotional dependency, fear of rejection, women’s expectations, and male silence.
— “These are situations women often go through in their lives. Everyone manages emotions in their own way, but infatuation strips us all bare,” says Katja Restović.
At the core of the monodrama is not only a love story, but the very mechanism of falling in love as a state in which reason loses control and emotions take over body and mind. The performance captures inner monologues that many recognise, but rarely dare to speak out loud.
— “Love can be chaotic, blind, and exhausting—but it is beautiful. I can’t imagine life without it,” Restović emphasises.
Crazy About Love! is Restović’s second monodrama
Crazy About Love! is Restović’s second monodrama centred on a powerful female role, and that unwavering focus on a woman’s perspective makes the piece intensely relatable. The audience—especially women—will easily recognise their own experiences in this comedic, yet painfully truthful work.
The monodrama offers no simple answers and no moral lessons. Instead, it holds up a mirror: sometimes distorted, sometimes brutally clear, but always human. It reminds us that infatuation is a state of risk—and that its strength lies precisely in that uncertainty.
