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Cannibales
José Pliya
Cannibales
photo : Danielle Vendé
Actes du théâtre n° 81.[ imprimer ]
A garden, a baby carriage, three women, a voice: ‘‘My daughter is gone.’’
No one has seen or heard anything. The mother can’t believe it. The investigation can now begin. A metaphysical investigation which, through the evocative power of language, pulls you into a cyclone of violence, desire, fantasies and mourning around maternity. As in all detective stories, Jose Pliya creates many wild goose chases, cleverly prolonging the agony and tormenting you with three exceptional actresses who keep pace with this initiatory journey through subtle touches and phrases. Three goddesses, three detectives, three women to ponder the enigma of our ambiguous relationship to childbirth.


Opened at the théâtre 71, scène nationale de Malakoff, January 20-30, 2015. Then on tour: at the Théâtre National du Luxembourg February 12 and 13, at the Théâtre Le Passage in Neuchatel, February 20.

Staged by the playwright. Set design: José Pliya, Danielle Vendé. Lighting design: Philippe Catalano. Sound design: Jordan Allard. Costumes: Florie Vaslin. Artistic advisor: Danielle Vendé. Cast: Marja-Leena Junker, Claire Nebout, Lara Suyeux.

Characters : 3 women -
Editions de L'Avant-Scène Théâtre, Coll. des Quatre-Vents - www.avant-scene-theatre.com

MARTINE For pity’s sake, my friend - for Martin’s sake - speak more softly. You are greatly worried and it’s understandable, and that’s why I promised you my full attention. But please, complain more discreetly, be less haughty in your despair because no conflict or even catastrophe - and even less the end of the world - is worth waking up a little boy that is sleeping. As a mother you can understand that. I must admit that for the moment you are showing a certain amount of restraint. That’s good. But I wanted to warn you because I feel that behind your casual composure there’s a stifled fierceness, an explosive panic, a fit of hysteria that could shatter everything: the style of this place, the song of the last nightingale, nightfall, this woman’s meditations that you’ve already interrupted and the baby’s sleep. Please, do not give in to that racket. And I could hear you better.