Félix Le Braz - Flashback - Génération Vhs - Le Boui Boui Lyon

Le Boui-Boui welcomes Félix Le Braz

At Le Boui-Boui in Lyon, we’re thrilled to open our intimate stage to Félix Le Braz for his new one-man show, Flashback: génération VHS. Our room is designed for proximity: the kind of space where a raised eyebrow can ripple through the audience and a callback lands with the precision of a punchline. That closeness suits Félix perfectly. He builds comedy from the textures of everyday life, and here you can feel every detail of his storytelling—the squeak of a rewinding memory, the awkward pause of a forgotten button sequence—turn into laughter. Flashback: génération VHS marks a fresh chapter in his artistic momentum: a finely tuned hour shaped across clubs and small theaters, sharpened by the energy of full rooms and the quicksilver timing of live retorts. As a venue dedicated to the living pulse of stand-up, we’ve watched him stretch and tighten this material in real time, slipping new tags into familiar beats and bringing the audience into the act with a conspiratorial grin.

About Flashback: génération VHS on our stage

Félix Le Braz brings the tactile world of tapes, remotes, and cathode-ray rituals to vivid life, and Le Boui-Boui amplifies every shade of that nostalgia. In Flashback: génération VHS, he toggles between generations as smoothly as a thumb on a plastic playhead: childhood living rooms, the ceremony of recording over a favorite tape, family debates about which film to keep, and the universal horror of tracking lines while a scene is peaking. He leans into physicality—little sound effects, a hunch of the shoulders, that knowing glance toward a crooked antenna—and lets the audience complete the scene. Within the hour, he threads a series of compact comedic vignettes that fans often nickname “Minitel Dating,” “Tracking Lines,” and “Le Videoclub,” recurring bits that function like Side A and Side B of the same cassette. From the first minutes, you can feel how our low ceiling and warm acoustics turn these small, analog details into big laughs; the show breathes, and the crowd breathes with it.

What distinguishes Félix right now is the way his current work interlocks: fresh riffs he’s been developing pop up inside Flashback: génération VHS like hidden B-sides. Regulars at Le Boui-Boui will catch new chunks—often introduced on stage as “Play/Record,” “Le Magnétoscope de Papa,” or “Mode 12:00”—riding alongside the cornerstone stories that anchor the set. He’s in that fertile moment where the hour is alive: he might slip a brand-new tag into “Be Kind Rewind” one night, then pivot into a spontaneous exchange the next, letting the audience’s collective memory steer the joke toward a surprising ending. We tailor our light and sound to keep that elasticity intact: warm, analog hues that nod to the era without turning the show into a museum piece, and a crisp mix that preserves off-the-cuff asides from the front row. For Lyon’s comedy lovers, this is the sweet spot—an artist with a fully formed vision who’s still adding fresh paint to the canvas, a show that balances precision with play, and a venue that brings you close enough to hear every chuckle before it becomes a wave of laughter. At Le Boui-Boui, Flashback: génération VHS lands exactly where it belongs: in a room that remembers how it felt to hit the big red button and record a moment worth keeping.