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

Le Boui-Boui welcomes Félix Le Braz and Flashback Génération VHS

At Le Boui-Boui, we thrive on the electric spark that happens when a comedian and an audience meet in a room made for discovery, and that is precisely why we are delighted to host Félix Le Braz with his time-warping solo show Flashback Génération VHS. From our vantage point just a few steps from the stage, we’ve watched Félix sharpen a comic voice that blends physical play, razor-tuned observation, and a warm sense of complicity with the crowd. His current artistic momentum is palpable: new short-form clips regularly find their way to social platforms, he actively workshops ideas in clubs much like ours, and he feeds this show with fresh beats shaped by real-time audience reactions. What excites us most at Le Boui-Boui is how seamlessly he connects generations—those who remember the hiss of a rewinding tape and those who have only ever known the infinite scroll—without condescension or easy nostalgia. When Félix arrives, our room becomes a living archive where analog memories collide with today’s hyperconnected habits, and the laughs come from the sparks that fly between those worlds.

Inside the analog time machine: jokes, references, and the pulse of now

Flashback Génération VHS is built like a series of lively scenes that Félix stitches together with the nimble energy of someone flipping through well-worn cassettes: the ritual of blowing on a tape that won’t play, the tracking line that haunts family camcorder footage, the mythical “Be kind, rewind” etiquette, and the unmistakable thrill of a Friday night at the video store. He makes the memories tactile—Minitel codes, the stubborn clack of a VCR door, tamagotchis that always needed feeding—while cleverly pulling in today’s touchstones. Expect pointed, affectionate jabs at the culture of the binge era, where toggling between streaming queues and live trends can feel like channel-surfing at hyperspeed. He peppers the set with current television and digital references—not as name-drops, but as funhouse mirrors to the VHS era—citing shows like LOL: Qui rit, sort!, Top Chef, Quotidien, Drag Race France, and Mask Singer to compare the way we consume pop spectacle now versus then. The result is a rhythm that keeps you alert: physical comedy, rapid-fire call-backs, a knack for character voices, and a sprinting pace that still finds room for unexpected quiet beats. From our side of the lights at Le Boui-Boui, we see the way those contrasts land—how a single mention of 3615 or a clunky remote can set off a wave of recognition, and how a sudden leap to a modern meme format triggers laughter of a different frequency. Félix rides those waves with a conductor’s ear, adjusting and riffing in the moment so each show here feels uniquely alive.

Le Boui-Boui is a room that rewards honesty and presence, and Félix leans into that intimacy. He checks in with the front row about their earliest screen memories, bounces between the aisles to catch an aside, and lets improvisation breathe—those spur-of-the-moment exchanges often become the night’s most quoted lines in the foyer afterward. The setup suits him: close quarters, zero distance, crisp sound, and lights that let you see every raised eyebrow and VHS-era posture he reconstructs. For Lyon audiences discovering him for the first time, this is the ideal way to experience his craft; for those who already follow his work online, it’s a chance to see how new material blossoms onstage before it ever becomes a clip. Across the season, he has been adding fresh angles to Flashback Génération VHS—sharpened comparisons with the algorithmic present, new digs into family home-video anthropology, and sly nods to current pop fixtures that keep the show evolving performance by performance. Whether you grew up queuing at Vidéo Futur or you discovered cinema on a streaming carousel, Félix turns those differences into a shared language. We invite you to take your seat at Le Boui-Boui, lean into the glow, and let the analog dust rise—because in this room, the past plays in crisp present tense, and laughter is the only rewind you’ll need.