Fanny Simon - Mais Que Vont Dire Les Voisins ?

Fanny Simon at Le Boui-Boui

At Le Boui-Boui, we take pride in welcoming artists whose craft blossoms in an intimate room, and Fanny Simon’s Mais que vont dire les voisins ? is designed for exactly that closeness between performer and audience. From the moment she steps on our stage, the premise becomes a playground: neighbors as mirrors, judges, confidants, and comic foils. The intimacy of our Lyon room lets you catch her sly asides, quick pivots, and the micro-expressions that turn a simple observation into a rolling laugh. She navigates everyday pressures with a light touch and razor timing—turning a hallway greeting into a standoff, a whispered rumor into a symphony of misunderstandings, a shared wall into a battleground of domestic diplomacy. We see crowds respond to her clarity and musical sense of rhythm; pauses land, callbacks snap, and the energy loops back from the tables to the stage. Our team has watched the show tighten night after night, and the pleasure is in the detail: a shifted posture that becomes a character, a look that rewrites a scene, an anecdote that swells into a full-blown farce without losing the ring of truth.

Current artistic moment

Fanny’s momentum is unmistakable: club dates, word-of-mouth bursts, and a growing audience eager to see the full hour that her online snippets have only teased. For spectators who follow the new wave of francophone stand-up, the sensibility will feel delightfully current—fans of Paname Comedy Club, Montreux Comedy Festival, or Stand Up France will recognize the sharp, contemporary punchlines and the quick, cinematic shifts of perspective. In Mais que vont dire les voisins ?, she folds in the nervous music of city life—stairwells, intercoms, and thin walls—alongside the comic codes of family dinners, office etiquette, and those building-wide chats that turn every tiny incident into a referendum. The writing balances warmth and bite; one minute she’s anatomizing courtesy as a competitive sport, the next she’s sketching the sweet absurdities of cohabitation. As programmers, we love how the piece breathes: she’s left room for improvisation, a space where local color filters in and each night gains a unique Lyon accent. It’s a living show, responsive to the room, and the kind of hour that thrives where the front row is a conversation partner and every seat feels like the best one.

On our side of the footlights, we’ve set the conditions for that immersion: clear sightlines, close sound, and the quiet hum of anticipation that makes a punchline feel communal. Le Boui-Boui’s format heightens the tension Fanny builds and releases—the hush before a confession, the collective gasp at a reveal, the ripple of recognition when a universal quirk is named out loud. If you’ve been following her current artistic news, you’ve seen how the schedule fills with additional nights as word travels; between dates, she keeps feeding the hour with fresh polish, shaping transitions, testing tags, and sharpening the show’s playful thesis about appearances, gossip, and the odd tenderness of living side by side. For audiences who keep up with today’s comic culture, references and textures align with what you might love elsewhere while remaining resolutely hers; it’s that blend of precise writing, freewheeling play, and a generous stage presence that makes an evening here feel both crafted and spontaneous. In short: a perfect match between an artist in stride and a room built to amplify her voice—right here at Le Boui-Boui.