Review of The Giant | La Poune, without the punch

There is talent galore in The Giantessa musical play dedicated to Rose Ouellette. A show made with heart, which restores the nobility that La Poune deserves, but whose momentum is weighed down by the desire to explain everything too much.

The Théâtre de l’œil ouvert has set itself the mission of talking about the history and culture of Quebec through women. After the success of The Corriveauand shows dedicated to the work of Diane Dufresne and Clémence DesRochers, the troupe this time tells the unique and little-known story of Rose Ouellette, beyond the clichés.

This is the story of the woman behind the comic that is told The Giantess, which is presented at the Desjardins Cultural Centre in Joliette this summer, and which will then go on tour. Born in 1903, Rose is a “flower that grew in the darkness”, that of the poverty of the Faubourg à m’lasse, of the Great Depression, of prejudices.

But the “little tiresome girl from Faubourg” who dreams of doing theater is endowed with an uncommon energy. She became director of the Théâtre Cartier at the age of 25, and when she left for the Théâtre National in 1936, she was the first woman to have directed two theaters in North America. All this while pursuing only one goal: to make people laugh.

There is no doubt about it, Rose Ouellette’s life deserved to be told, if only because she was a pioneer and was never properly recognized. In the title role, Gabrielle Fontaine is invested and radiant, and gives it a joyful glow. The excellent actress and singer captures the demeanor of this little woman who was always moving – in fact, the gestures of the play are very much inspired by burlesque, which was La Poune’s trademark, which gives the whole thing a good-natured and falsely naïve aspect.

The group numbers are particularly successful. And the quality of the original songs, whose music is by Audrey Thériault, is frankly amazing: the catchy melodies perfectly match the characters and situations. The presence on stage of three musicians, including Marc-André Perron who signs the arrangements, is another major asset. They perfectly coat the songs and often even lull the dialogues – we can never say often enough how much live music is superior to pre-recorded tapes in this kind of production.

As for the vocal abilities of the troupe of eight actor-singers, they are truly exceptional, both in the harmonies and in the duets and solos. Each number sung is a real little gem.

The Giantess begins in 1910, when a bus driver takes us back in time aboard a magical tram. We meet the hyperactive Rose, whose world slowly falls into place: her best friend who follows her in her misdeeds, her mother who does not know what to do to control her little girl, a barrel organ player who gives her the joy of making people laugh, the alienating “Factory” where the people of the neighborhood work.

We thus move forward quietly in time, guided by the punctual narration of the Railwayman, who poetically tells where Rose is in her life. This is where the problem lies: rather than seeing the protagonist act, we are told about it.

So, apart from during her youth, we don’t really feel the immense fire that drives Rose Ouellette. After a particularly funny audition scene, the rest will be more evoked than shown. We learn between two sentences about her exploits – spending 17 years playing two shows a day, every day of the week! – without it really being embodied.

The same goes for the social and economic context, which is necessary, of course, but which Geneviève Beaudet’s very well-written text emphasizes far too much. In addition to the Cheminot, there are some people who read the newspaper headlines before each new chapter, a vaudeville duo of evil tongues who embody nasty rumor and heavy decorum, and even a Brechtian chorus that sometimes adds to the harshness of the environment.

It’s a lot of layers, and the show suffers from over-narration and didacticism that weigh it down and make it needlessly long. Thus, La Poune’s joyful fake number and the humorous explorations behind the scenes find themselves drowned in too much information. And what Rose Ouellette was dedicated to in a play, her giant strength, is watered down. Only her relationship with her assistant Gigi, the love of her life, is really well developed.

So we end up with a work that unfortunately does too much out of love for its subject. And the rather useless finale, a mise en abyme that sums everything up as if we had not yet grasped the stakes, makes a link with the present in a way that is too clumsy to be touching.

Too bad, because there is in The Giantess everything you need to be a truly successful show: charm, humor, a message, excellent music and talented performers. Starting with Gabrielle Fontaine and the director and performer of Gigi, Jade Bruneau, whose presence and voice send shivers down your spine. All this makes for a pleasant time despite everything, but which lacks what La Poune had to offer: punch.

Visit the show website

The Giantess

Musical theatre pieces from the Théâtre de l’Œil ouvert. With Gabrielle Fontaine, Jade Bruneau and six other actors.

At the Desjardins Cultural Center in Joliette.

6/10