As funny as it is endearing, Michelle Desrochers offers her first solo show, Pelote, where she is not afraid to play with self-deprecation, without everything revolving around her.
The first comedy shows, like all the first works in fact, are often an opportunity for the artists to introduce themselves, to talk about their life until now, to give the public the chance to meet them. We rarely escape the strong biographical tendency. Michelle Desrochers shows us who she is, but in another way. Above all, she reveals to us her very endearing personality by talking about everything and nothing. She tells her story, presents us with anecdotes from her life, but she also offers observations on everyday facts (with a slight tendency to focus on the work of others) and it is through her vision of the world that we also discover it.
During the Montreal premiere of the show, when she arrives on stage at the Gesù – where she will return on December 9 –, after a solid opening performance from Jessica Chartrand, Michelle Desrochers begins with aplomb. A long first issue is devoted to her “butt”, or the lower part of her stomach, of which she speaks in tender terms, but also very amusing.
Body acceptance will be part of the show, from the beginning, in a few comments throughout, and then at the very end.
After a few minutes of listening to it, we are frankly captivated. His performance is impeccable and captivates us. If her monologue is not a long linear narration, she excels in transitions, so much so that we never let go. His facial expressions, his gestures and even his silences also provide a comic effect.
In short, the technique is good. Above all, the content is more than good. The funny moments of her life make us all laugh when it’s her who recounts them. The time when her thighs rubbed against each other in the village of yesteryear, her parents’ divorce that took too long, her grandfather’s funeral, her escapades at the gym, her (mimed) misadventures with the divacup: l he comedian manages to provoke laughter every time, even with what, on paper, doesn’t necessarily seem very amusing.
The direction, by LeLouis Courchesne (who is also an author), is as simple as it is effective. Under pink and blue neon in the shape of a ball of wool, Michelle Desrochers is only accompanied by a classic stool on stage (which she sometimes uses for her gags). Lisandre Coulombe’s lighting design plays a huge role in the impact of the show. Subtle, but skillfully considered, the play of light allows relevant changes of atmosphere throughout the comedian’s narration.
Michelle Desrochers has fun at her own expense, but also at the expense of others. She wanders in the middle of the show towards a very amusing skepticism, which mainly first attacks the profession of land surveyor, a profession which “does not exist”, according to her. The number that follows is excellent, one of the best in the show. And because she is launched into the professions, she then attacks the optometrists and imitates them, in another striking moment of her monologue. Ultimately it is the real estate brokers, who scare him, who go there.
Without being irreverent, she is not entirely wise either. She asks her audience which of them have 9 to 5 jobs and notices the “little suicide clap” when the people concerned respond with applause. She brings up the fact that she studied literature, which is why she slips a little “however” between “two seed jokes”. She allows herself to note that she finds it strange that “the most beautiful dogs are given to the blind”. “We should give them the ugly ones,” she pleads, frustrated at not being allowed to pet the service dogs.
Constant and pleasant to listen to, very funny and sometimes even hilarious, Michelle Desrochers has everything right with this first show.