I always loved The little life. This brilliant series by Claude Meunier, top-notch, with its garbage, its turkey, its Creton, its bearded Ti-Mé and its Môman à capine is a fierce satire of Quebec society between candor and prejudice. So funny that the general public of the 1990s agreed to gargle with self-deprecation before consuming it. Cult show on home soil. Not just in the eyes of the X-rated, the baby boomers and the seniors above. The craze grew. In 2019, at the Pointe-à-Callière museum, we had to see parents dragging their children to an exhibition dedicated to this universe for apostolate purposes.
The cheerful bad faith of the characters is his trademark. His racist, homophobic and misogynistic replies, with a good measure of salt, pepper, bananas, cherries, shepherd’s pie and hot peppers, ooze and scratch the spirit of Quebec parochialism. Great fans have enjoyed his covers galore.
A heavy legacy to bear. How to renew it? The failures of Ti-Mé show and other Christmas Story have raised fears that the formula is running out of steam. How can we patch up this headless family without losing its lifeblood? You might as well square the circle. Meunier dove.
In real life, Serge Thériault (irreplaceable Môman), in deep depression, is a recluse. Michel Côté has raised the sails. The house shook. In 2020, the black character from an old episode suddenly made the gallery shudder. This portrait of a Ugandan professor in a boubou was denounced as insulting and stereotypical by a spectator. Caricature among the caricatures of The little life, Yet. Radio-Canada censored it, then put it back on the air after an outcry, accompanied by a warning about changing social and cultural representations. We then felt the SRC suffocate with panic and improvisation, like François Legault this week in relaunching the third link.
The fact remains that new sensibilities color all television productions, even when creators seek to escape them. Today, doubts assail us: was Môman taking up the fight for gender diversity in 1993, as an avant-garde icon? Did Pôpa always secretly have a taste for men? Prophetess of contemporary debates, this sitcom? Ah! Ah!
So, we binge the first six episodes of its sequel, set 30 years later. Impossible to see them on traditional TV for three months, to the great dismay of Claude Meunier. We still subscribe to its paid platform HERE Tou.tv Extra (free for the first month, that’s always a bargain). Stung by the sting of curiosity, pitifully endorsing this slap in the face to a series which offered so much to its antenna and to its spectators, whose awakening would have deserved more consideration. In fact, the state channel seems to half disavow the concept.
Mom left. Ti-Mé is bored but is looking for a new flame on an online dating site. His offspring, in costumes more kitsch than ever, are worried. Cell phones ring in a familiar setting, cherries clinging to the kitchen wallpaper. Convention accepted, like the arena of an ancestral theater to be preserved.
It makes you laugh, but not jaw-dropping. The absurd humor is nevertheless there. The Paré family, on the hard core side, on the ramifications side, has taken on the bottle or wrinkles, without losing the enthusiasm of its performers. Thérèse goes on astral journeys, Creton says stupid things, Rénald counts his money, Ti-Mé takes care of his emptying, Réjean lies a lot, Caro moves air, Pogo loses his memory.
The Paré family has aged under the wigs, but emerges from the mothballs shouting: “Hello! »Effect of nostalgia, we believe in his unexpected resurrection. The tone of derision is reassuring, a real benchmark. Yes but… It was still funnier before. Pranks about Alzheimer’s, defibrillators, funeral pre-arrangements seem sinister in the long run. This Little life will the second version still ride on the aging of its heroes during the next episodes in February 2024? The ice is thin and the recurring gags about incontinent diapers are ultimately tiring.
A sign of the times, the debates of the day on personal growth, the liberation of the oppressed, sexual orientation and even transidentity are invited to the joyous party. But it’s at the very end of the sixth episode, when Serge Thériault, alias Môman, returns home, shaking under his jacket, that the crush occurs. Wonderful final twist worthy of Little Nemo ! Throughout the series, we would have wished for other feverish moments to savor at home.