“Change of style, change of theme, change of rhyme, healthy and serene calm” sang MC Solaar in À la claire fontaine. It is to this change of direction and style that the Argentinian company Proyecto Migra invites us with this UFO show halfway between the theater of the absurd and acrobatic comedy.
When the character of Tomas crossed the theater with a cauliflower in his hands and timidly offered it to his sweetheart, we immediately knew that Un domingo would not be a Sunday like the others.
When the sweetheart in question (Sofia Galliano) started spinning around him with her teapot, pulled by the bun – in a hair suspension number –, we understood that we had just been thrown – despite ourselves – in the Argentinian surrealist universe.
The storyline can be summed up in a few words: a young man is invited to dinner with his beautiful family on a beautiful Sunday. But as soon as he arrives, everything will be nagged.
His future stepfather will challenge him to a duel (with a sword) before trying to poison him… His stepmother will make advances to him, even the servant will play him… In fact, the stepfather (very funny Tato Villanueva) will attack everyone, and everything will turn into a rat race.
It is impossible not to draw parallels with telenovelas, these television soap operas (soap operas) that are extremely popular in South America. With its beautifully quirky dialogues and deceptively dramatic script, Un domingo presents itself as a parody of telenovelas. Bonus film music.
The show directed by Frenchman Florent Bergal is first and foremost theatrical. And the six performers stand out here for their physical acting, flirting with burlesque, nods to Chaplin or Keaton. The acrobatic dimension here is a means, not an end.
All the brouhaha of Un domingo, with its succession of absurd scenes – sometimes difficult to follow – is also reminiscent of the sketches of the Argentinian-Spanish film The New Savages, which explored with (dark) humor the themes of skids and revenge.
We come out of Un domingo slightly confused, with a thousand absurd (and non-essential) images in our heads and at the same time, with this tenacious impression of having attended a unique performance.