Posted at 7:00 p.m.
Reality often exceeds fiction, as we know. What we sometimes forget is that in reality, each life hides tender, sad or happy stories just waiting to be told to those who listen.
For Not lost, the final part of their triptych of scenic documentaries presented at the Center du Théâtre d’Aujourd’hui, Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette and Émile Proulx-Cloutier put their magnifying glass on the existence of eight seemingly disparate people, but whose destiny is intimately bound. A speech therapist, a video game enthusiast, a nursing student, a craftsman who weaves snowshoes, another who sews baby carriers…
These eight men and women of different origins and ages confided in Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette, who captured dozens of hours of audio recordings. The creators have extracted from this abundant harvest of testimonies the narrative framework of the show, weaving at the same time a deeply human quilt under which it is good to slip. Especially in these perilous times when humanity is mistreated and where closeness to others must be tamed again.
As with previous scenic documentaries real worlds (2014) and South Pole (2016), the protagonists come on stage to reproduce the small and large gestures of their daily lives, while their voices resonate in the room, crack under the emotion or cascade in great bursts of laughter.
Unique characters
What they say, we will keep quiet, so as not to reveal too much about the astonishing bond that unites them. But each one, in its uniqueness, manages to move us, make us laugh, make us think. Together, they force us to question our relationship to memory and history, all under the watchful eye of Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette. The latter remains on stage for the duration of the play to reassure by her mere presence all these non-actors who come to reveal themselves on the boards.
It is also thanks to Anaïs Barbeau-Lavalette’s immense ability to listen that the three scenic documentaries, all very poignant, were able to see the light of day.
We realize it quickly in Not lost : the filmmaker and author welcomed all these stories with an open heart, without judgment or a priori. She thus guides each spectator towards this state of openness that it is so good to frequent.
To the staging, Émile Proulx-Cloutier managed to add a nice dose of poetry with video projections of great beauty (signed Marielle Dalpé) and lighting design (Mathieu Roy) which skilfully play with the silhouettes of Dominic, Yaëlle, Réal and the others. In this almost bare scenic space, life can spring from all sides. Simple gestures are magnified, rediscovering a sacred side.
Humanity, when told so well, is more beautiful than the news says. And hope finds a breeding ground to be reborn. At last.