Directed by Arthur Nauzyciel
Theater de la Colline, Paris (1)
Its majestic silhouette emerges, impassive, in the shadows. An owl, whose flights will punctuate the room, observes the strange ritual that takes place below. The day is coming to an end for the lumberjacks: one by one, they knock their boots against each other, and sit down at the table, chainsaw in hand. They are four brothers: Pascal, Adama, Frédéric and Guillaume, bearing the first names of the actors who play them – respectively Greggory, Diop, Pierrot and Costanza. They live in a monumental steel house, on the edge of the woods, and share the same object of desire: their servant Marie, Marie-Sophie Ferdane. She is suspicious and carefully locks her bedroom double. But every night, men come to his door to spread their dreams of possession. Harassed by this desire, the voracity of which pushes back all limits, the young woman gradually knocks out the weapons of a terrible revenge.
The play, which opened like a tale with scathing humor, then turns into a trashy fable. With My brothers, Rambert examines the nature of male desire when it turns into a desire for domination. The four actors, in a total commitment get naked – literally – to auscultate the behavior of their own sex. In front of them, Marie-Sophie Ferdane, with radiant power, is the embodiment of the suffering endured by women for centuries. In a staging regulated to the line, in particular thanks to the precise collaboration of the choreographer Damien Jalet, Nauzyciel operates a subtle shift from the farce to a suffocating gravity. Suddenly, the grotesque characters no longer make people laugh, but their victim, by the abominable story of his existence – symbolized by an ivory prosthesis – embraces the public with all his revolt. In the tradition of Greek tragedy, My brothers questions one of the great curses of humanity. Chilling but necessary.