Camille Lienard - C'est Pas La Nuit Qu'elle Dort

Camille Liénard brings C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort to Le Boui-Boui

At Le Boui-Boui, we relish artists who turn intimacy into electricity, and that is precisely what happens when Camille Liénard walks onto our stage with C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort. In our close-quarters room in Lyon, her timing, her eye for the absurd, and her conversational rhythm land with a clarity you can feel. We’ve invited her because her current momentum is palpable: a new hour that she’s been refining with a striking mix of storytelling and razor-edged punchlines, a pace that never sags, and a physical presence that translates every thought into motion. Audiences here love the way she circles a subject—workday fatigue, social projections, friendships that ping at 3 a.m.—then strikes from an unexpected angle. This season, she arrives at Le Boui-Boui with fresh material and sharper stakes, delivering a show that pokes at the late-capitalist calendar and the culture of “always on,” all while keeping the room laughing, leaning forward, and nodding in recognition.

Because C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort is both a title and a thesis, Camille builds the night in front of us: a cascade of scenes where insomnia becomes a duet partner and everyday rituals glitch into surreal comedy. From our vantage point, we can see how she orchestrates the set, threading recurring motifs that reward attentive listeners. The show’s backbone is a suite of sketches—Mode Avion Social, Les Voisins de 2h17, Le Bureau des Couchers Tardifs, Inbox Zéro (Mais Jamais), and Le Frigo Philosophique—that she shapes live with the audience, adjusting beats and pauses until the laughter crests just right. Her recent stage work has leaned into this dynamic architecture: tighter callbacks, bolder act-outs, and a refined knack for turning personal confessions into communal games. On our stage, the lights catch the micro-expressions, the sound picks up her breath before the punch, and the room becomes a conspirator. It’s in that conspiratorial warmth that Camille Liénard’s current artistic voice truly glows.

On our stage: new pages, new laughs

Le Boui-Boui champions comics who are writing in the present tense, and Camille Liénard’s latest pages are blazing. Over the past months, she has been road-testing bits that now anchor the heart of C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort, notably Les Notifications Fantômes (a playful cascade of imagined pings and delayed replies) and Héroïne de Service (a wry riff on being the “reliable friend” at unreasonable hours). As a room built for discovery, we witness the evolution nightly: the way she teases a premise, squares it against a sharply observed detail, and then snaps the thread with a turn that sounds inevitable only after you’ve heard it. The result is a living, breathing hour that thrives in our black-box intimacy—full of winks, quick-fire riffs with the front row, and the kind of laughter that sprints, then rolls. If you know Camille Liénard from her recent club runs and festival buzz, this is the version you’ll want to see up close; if you’re discovering her here at Le Boui-Boui, you’ll see why she’s become a name whispered by comics and crowds who chase the next great set.