The Great War had its share of misfortunes. The devastations led to what came to be known as “broken faces.” This is what Eugène experienced starting in 1916. Injured in the face at Verdun, he met at the Val de Grâce military hospital surgeons who were to become the true architects of his future.
With his stage mask, he would experience in the theater, at the Comédie Française, through the interpretation of Cyrano offered to him by Sarah Bernhardt, “the incandescent hearth of all dreamed or lived passions.” Thus, he would become a “vibrant.” A superb staging between tulle and translucent curtains, very cinematographic, with sound effects evoking, among other things, the soldier’s nightmares. One leaves deeply moved by this finely nuanced and hopeful show.
Written by young author and actress Aïda Asgharzadeh and directed by Quentin Defalt, this theme of resilience, of transcending life through Art, leads to a certain identification of the character with the one he embodies, Cyrano: the same lack, the same impediment.
Rostand’s words make him accept his condition, he realizes! We as spectators also need these words to understand the world, and the actors, in pronouncing them, make it even more moving. Through his heightened sensitivity, the actor captures and returns the essence of things to the audience, making them resonate within himself before making others resonate. It is the gift of self, a kind of intercessor that an actor is on stage.
Here they are four to interpret nearly fifteen characters: the author herself, Aïda Asgharzadeh, Benjamin Brenière, Mathieu Hornuss, and Amélie Manet. Exhilarating and sublime! It’s no wonder people have been flocking to it since 2014.
Roland Haugade
