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

At Le Boui-Boui: Felix Le Braz brings Flashback Generation VHS to Lyon

From our stage at Le Boui-Boui, we’re thrilled to welcome Felix Le Braz with Flashback Generation VHS, a riotous trip through the tactile joys and comic mishaps of the tape era. Our intimate room is purpose-built for this kind of confessional, high-energy storytelling: every crackle of “tracking,” every fast-forward lurch, every collective gasp of recognition ricochets across the brick walls and right back into Felix’s quicksilver timing. Expect a show that revels in shared memory—video-club cards, Saturday night movie marathons, the delicate art of not taping over a sibling’s recording—while staying firmly anchored in the present. Felix is a master at turning generational nostalgia into live electricity, volleying between character voices, razor-sharp observational beats, and spontaneous exchanges with the front row. At Le Boui-Boui, we’ve watched crowds light up as he replays those universal moments: the clack of a plastic cassette case, the slow dread of a chewed tape, the triumphant click when the picture finally stabilizes. Flashback Generation VHS isn’t just a theme; it’s a full-body comedic experience that resonates differently when you’re mere meters from the mic.

Recent creative momentum and the pulse of the show

Felix Le Braz arrives in Lyon with palpable momentum. Within Flashback Generation VHS, he has honed recurring bits that have quickly become audience favorites, including “Video Club Confessions,” a tour-de-force of micro-characters you swear you’ve met in the late-night aisles; “Pause-Play Panic,” a quick-cut cascade of mini-catastrophes that unfolds with the precision of a Rube Goldberg machine; and “Camcorder Chronicles,” a deep dive into family footage and the heroic, often doomed, role of the designated cameraman. He’s also been riffing on the culture clash between analog patience and swipe-age speed, anchoring these contrasts in scenes that feel absurdly true-to-life. You’ll hear him loop back on a motif—say, the unmistakable shudder of a warped tape—and escalate it until the whole room is rolling. As a venue that nurtures comedians at close range, we’ve seen how Felix’s onstage craft thrives in this setting: he sets up a nostalgic tableau, tosses a spark into it, then prowls the edges for the unexpected laugh. The result is a set that breathes, flexes, and constantly discovers new punchlines in the residue of memory.

Our Le Boui-Boui team has leaned into the show’s DNA to create a setting that amplifies Felix’s pace and playfulness. The sightlines and sound in our room carry the faintest vocal shrug or under-the-breath callback, and Felix knows how to use that intimacy to his advantage. Expect sly acts of audience complicity—he’ll test who remembers late-night channel surfing, who can mimic the whine of a rewinding tape, who still owns a treasured cassette—and weave those responses back into the spine of the show. In addition to “Video Club Confessions,” “Camcorder Chronicles,” and “Pause-Play Panic,” keep an ear out for his gleefully chaotic “Saturday Morning Static,” where he reassembles childhood TV rituals with the spring-loaded timing of a sketch troupe packed into a single performer. From the first beat, Flashback Generation VHS feels tailor-made for Le Boui-Boui’s close quarters: a bright, generous hour where shared recollections become running gags and tiny details—labels on spines, handwritten timestamps, the etiquette of recording over commercials—become comedic set pieces. We’re delighted to host a night that proves memory is funnier when it’s communal, and that analog glitches still make the sharpest punchlines in 2025.