La Gaille - Le Boui Boui, Lyon

Le Boui-Boui welcomes Camille Liénard with C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort

At Le Boui-Boui, we are thrilled to open our stage to Camille Liénard and her new one-woman show, C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort, a pitch-perfect fit for our intimate room where the smallest detail of timing and expression lands with precision. The premise is as simple as it is inexhaustible: what happens when night refuses to be a lullaby. Camille explores the jittery poetry of insomnia, the hilarity of late-hour logic, and the offbeat rhythm of a day that starts before it should. In our close-quarters setting, her finely tuned storytelling, expressive physicality, and quick-fire crowd work bloom—every sigh, micro-pause, and punchline ripples through the rows. Expect a set that oscillates between sharp observational writing and disarmingly vulnerable confessions, the kind that makes you laugh first and recognize yourself a beat later. Le Boui-Boui is built for this kind of encounter: unfiltered, human-sized, and powered by the electricity that only live comedy can generate.

About the artist and her current momentum

In recent months, Camille Liénard has been on a creative sprint, sharpening new material in clubs and small theaters while steadily widening her audience with late-night slots and early-evening try-outs that keep the energy raw and immediate. Her stagecraft shows the confidence of a comic who knows how to let silence work as hard as a punchline, and her voice—both literal and literary—has matured into a distinctly nocturnal register: supple, agile, and a little mischievous. Fans who’ve been following her latest sets will recognize recurring bits she’s been workshopping, with playful labels that have stuck among regulars: “La sieste stratégique,” an absurd masterclass on turning six minutes of rest into a life philosophy; “Message à 03:12,” a cascade of voice-note catastrophes that only happen when the city sleeps; and “Le frigo qui parle,” her deadpan debate with an appliance that knows all your secrets. At Le Boui-Boui, these motifs thread through C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort like constellations, guiding the audience through a nightscape of anxious pragmatism, tender self-mockery, and crystalline jokes that click into place at exactly the right second.

What makes C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort sing in our venue is how Camille sculpts the evening’s arc to the room itself. She builds momentum with quick, bright beats near the top, then settles into longer-form stories that unravel with cinematic patience—an insomnia clinic that feels like group therapy, a dawn bus ride that becomes a rolling confessional, a neighborly encounter that flips into surreal farce when the hallway lights shut off. The close proximity of Le Boui-Boui means you feel her calibrate the pace in real time: she leans into chuckles until they crest into laughter, pivots when a whisper lands louder than a shout, and keeps a hand on the wheel with audience moments that are inviting rather than intrusive. Her writing balances delicacy and bite; even when the subject is familiar—phones, work, family, the tiny failures of self-control—she finds a slanted angle and toys with it until it yields a fresh surprise. If you’ve been craving stand-up that treats form as seriously as punchlines, Camille delivers an hour that feels both meticulously composed and joyously alive. We’ve tuned our lights and sound to keep the room warm and the beats crisp, and we’re excited to watch this show grow with each performance at Le Boui-Boui, where connection is not just a promise; it’s the architecture of the night.