a surreal yet gentle puppetry-storytelling that melds absurd humour and poignant tragedy
As part of MimeLondon, Compagnie Focus & Chaliwaté’s Dimanche is a surreal yet tender meditation on climate change and environmental protection. It is a tour de force of puppetry, where meticulously crafted, lifelike puppets, including polar bear, migratory bird, and an elderly lady, serve not only as characters but also as allegories for our warming world. With a “rule-of-three” comedy structure fused with Lecoqesque movements, the performance interweaves absurdity and tragedy with its alarming prophecy.
The opening scene features three journalists (or scientists) driving to the Arctic Circle to observe and shoot its ecosystem. You might never imagine that a physical mime can actually realise the cinematic sequence from a long shot, a medium and eventually a close-up. The puppeteer-performers transform their bodies into snow-capped mountains for model cars to navigate. Gradually, a larger-scale model enters the scene, and ultimately, the “camera” shifts to reveal the trio inside the vehicle, driving and eating. Equally breathtaking is the auditory precision and unrivalled delicacy of sound technology on display (Brice Cannavo). Together with the scene sequence, you may discern the slight volume differences of the background music (Paul Simon’s “50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.”)
As the story goes on, one journalist accidentally plummets through fissures in ice and unfortunately loses his life. A footage (Tristan Galand) seamlessly links this human tragedy with the animal world, where a polar bear cub forever separates from her mother by melting ice. The puppetry is so vivid that even with the puppeteer in view, you momentarily forget they are mere puppets, but view them as real.
Global warming affects humans as well. We then witness a family battling against heat, where a couple uses an array of electric fans to cool themselves, and an ice bucket offers their puppet-portrayed mother a refreshing reprieve. Under endless heatwaves, accompanied by an operatic soundscape, their furniture gradually and mysteriously melts in a surreal, almost magical manner, like a Dali painting. Suddenly, the old lady loses her life out of a shocking electrocution when operating on a floor lamp, which functions abnormally due to relentless and unstable weather condition. The rule of three applies again, only this time in a tragic way.
This darkly comic yet deeply tragic tableau sets the tone for what is to come. A tornado deprives another journalist’s life, and a migratory bird is forced to crash through the window of the bereaved family, who in turn absurdly roasts the bird for a feast. With nice dress, glasses of wine and an eternally-blown-out candle, the stupid couple fails to enjoy the bird as the hurricane blows everything away. A tsunami devours the last journalist as well as the family’s sleeping patriarch, who are now drifting in the water, absurdly co-existing alongside with sharks, jellyfishes and his kitchenware. An alarm endeavours to wake him up, but ultimately fails.
In the last scene, writers, directors and major performers Julie Tenret, Sicaire Durieux, and Sandrine Heyraud display some mercy, warm emotion and a glimmer of hope. Jellyfish, a symbol of earth’s emerging, thriving prosperity even without human species, is exquisitely performed through hand puppetry. This underwater scene, bathed in striking black with an eerie, almost mystical quality, showcases excellent precision from lighting (Guillaume Toussaint Fromentin), enabling the puppeteers to remain unseen.
Finishing with the last journalist surviving the tsunami in a lifeboat and clumsily fishing out the family’s water bottle, Dimanche delivers a gentle storytelling. In a world often bombarded by overt propaganda and self-important declarations, the performance opts for a quiet, reflective tone that speaks both to the heart and to the mind. The interplay between the animals’ domestic warmth and the stark, surreal imagery of numb and indifferent humanity compels us to ask: How much time do we have left? Just like the trio team’s camera, the battery is already low.