It is not new that Pascal Brullemans courageously explores the troubled relationships that unite Eros and Thanatos. For three decades, first in collaboration with Eric Jean, and now alongside the director of Projet MÛ, Nini Bélanger, the playwright has shed his light on inextricable tangles of intimate and collective problems. Being no exception to the rule, Homicidethe show that the tandem is currently presenting at the Prospero theater, is freely, but above all very cleverly, inspired by what has been called the Magnotta affair.
At the heart of a captivating echo chamber, a clever device of screens and geometry imagined by Marilène Bastien (scenography), Cédric Delorme-Bouchard (lighting), Julien Blais (video) and Navet Confit (music), Dany Boudreault appears like a pontiff of new technologies, a lucid madman, a wise confabulator, a philosopher in his underwear, perched on stiletto heels, applying nail polish while questioning the civilizational foundations of violence, from Zeus to Romulus , through Jesus. Why is the assassin so fascinating? Why does his quest for love and recognition arouse so much curiosity? What does his homicidal gesture, steeped in narcissism and cruelty, reveal about human nature? Brullemans refuses to dodge these disturbing questions.
Duty of memory
As perilous as the exercise may be, there is probably no better place than the stage to understand a sordid murder, while staying away from the many pitfalls such as sensationalism, caricature or even virulent condemnation. By observing what happened in Côte-Des-Neiges in May 2012 from various angles, adding to the psyche of the killer that of the victim, by having the murderer’s mother and a few experts of all kinds heard, Brullemans and Bélanger make sure to convey the complexity of the case. We even find benevolence in this spectacle which derives from the duty of memory a desire for reparation, reconciliation, a need for consolation, appeasement.
While embracing the cruelty of the story, recognizing the horror of the actions committed, the director creates what is commonly called an object of beauty. Without falling into pure aestheticism, the emulator of Gisèle Vienne and Joël Pommerat gives birth to splendid images, where bodies and faces are multiplied, distorted, diffracted, poeticized. Dany Boudreault carefully embodies all the states of his character, from rage to lucidity, from candor to perfidy. He does this without falling into imitation, showing admirable sobriety. Christian Rangel offers a remarkable performance in the role of the victim, notably during a moving ventriloquism scene.
By evoking without showing, by naming without explaining, by relating while resorting to invention, Pascal Brullemans and Nini Bélanger manage to expose the ins and outs of a dark affair, the ramifications of a hyper-contemporary and yet immemorial crime. . A news item of mythological scope and a terribly revealing nest of vipers, whether we like it or not.