We thought we knew everything about L’Osstidcho, an emblematic show of the Quebec cultural revolution. To L’Osstidquoi? L’Osstidcho, a documentary that embraces the complexity and depth of the work while emphasizing its social impact.
The impact of L’Osstidcho has been dissected many times over the decades, to the point where we no longer thought we could learn much new about this legendary show that broke taboos and helped bring Quebec culture in modernity. We talked about the influence of Californian rock on Charlebois, the need to kick the clams, the thirst for freedom of young baby boomers who aspired to free themselves from the education of their parents.
L’Osstidquoi? L’Osstidcho, a documentary directed by Louis-Philippe Eno on a screenplay by Francis Legault, nevertheless manages to take a not new, but more complete look at the happening enthusiastically staged by Louise Forestier, Mouffe, Yvon Deschamps and Robert Charlebois in May 1968 at the Quat’Sous with the collaboration of the Quatuor de jazz libre du Québec. The reason ? His creation is eloquently put into context here.
What stands out, first, is that even if L’Osstidcho remains of course linked to Charlebois – its songs are the most easily accessible legacy – it was the work of four creators and performers.
That this show not only marked the birth of Yvon Deschamps as a monologist, but also of Louise Forestier as a songwriter (Quand t’es pas là), as journalist Marie-Christine Blais points out, one of the many people invited to shed light on this cultural shock and its legacy.
At the heart of the film, there are first its four main craftsmen, all dressed in white (as in the show) and all quick-witted, who look back without nostalgia on their young years and the desire they had for everything. fuck up. Yes, there was the fragmented form of the show, the desire to get out of the shackles of the chansonniere song (even Charlebois was wise at its beginnings), embodied in particular by free jazz and improvisation.
What makes Francis Legault and Louis-Philippe Eno’s documentary so captivating, however, is the care it takes to dissect the social significance of L’Osstidcho. To appreciate it, one must understand the Quebec in which its creators had grown up: the great darkness of Duplessis, a society where workers worked all their lives without earning enough to ensure their old age, a world where the arrival of the pill is not just a symbol of olé olé freedom, but downright of survival when we have known women who have had abortions with knitting needles…
The Osstidcho was not just a show of artists wishing to break with a cultural establishment, it was that of young women and young men breaking with the vision of the world inherited from their parents. Les unions, qu’ossa gives takes on an almost tragic depth when Yvon Deschamps recounts how his grandfather was sent home at 65 with a simple watch as a gift after working his whole life in a factory. Deprived of a salary, he could no longer pay rent for his wife and himself, and they had to resolve to go and live with their children. Separately…
It was this Quebec that the youth of the time, represented by the artisans of the show, rejected. A youth of course large enough to make their voices heard – we are talking about the baby boom generation, after all – and educated and lit enough to see what was happening elsewhere.
It’s not just “French Canada that no longer wants to be subjugated,” as historian Éric Bédard points out, it’s Quebec that feels close to Martin Luther King’s dream. His death was quite a shock, confirms Yvon Deschamps on the screen. “To kill someone because they want to get things done and get rights for the black community, it touched us deeply,” he said. As if he were our brother. »
The Osstidcho is described in this film as a tremendous momentum, without ever lapsing into “it was better before”. Louise Forestier, whose legacy is often underestimated, on the contrary looks at today’s society with generous empathy. “Perhaps our job as elders is not to convey despair,” she concludes, “but to inspire courage.” »
