La Gaille - Le Boui Boui, Lyon

Camille Lienard at Le Boui-Boui: a night sculpted for our intimate stage

At Le Boui-Boui, we champion performers whose craft thrives in close-up proximity, and Camille Lienard brings exactly that electricity with C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort. The title itself hints at a nocturnal temperament and a mind that never switches off, a perfect match for our candlelit atmosphere and responsive room where every breath, glance, and pause matters. From the vantage point of our stage team, the show’s rhythm—by turns confessional, nimble, and playfully confrontational—benefits from our focused sound and warm lighting, allowing Camille’s storytelling to bloom without distraction. We invite audiences to lean in, because she rewards attention with ricocheting observations about time, rest, and the absurd choreography of modern life. The physical economy of her performance—body angles that become punchlines, hands that sketch out invisible maps of the city at 3 a.m.—lands beautifully here, and the back-and-forth with spectators becomes an extension of the narrative rather than a detour. If you’ve ever found yourself overly awake when the world insists on sleep, you’ll recognize the heartbeat of this piece the moment she steps into the light at Le Boui-Boui.

Inside the pulse of C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort: writing, timing, and the thrill of the present

We admire how Camille Lienard builds a dramaturgy out of the small events that accumulate overnight: phone screens glowing like tiny lighthouses, neighbors with unpredictable schedules, the city’s machinery humming under the quiet. In C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort, she braids these observations into sequences that move with the logic of memory—loops, echoes, and sudden leaps—without ever losing the audience’s hand. Our room’s intimacy gives her the freedom to play with silence, micro-gestures, and quick pivots from tenderness to irony. She treats the stage like an apartment where every object has a secret life: the kettle whispers, the alarm negotiates, the pillow files a complaint. We’ve designed the tech to honor that world-building; the lighting shifts are subtle but precise, allowing tonal changes to register as vividly as a punchline. Expect Camille to measure the room’s breath and adjust her pacing on a dime—an art form we prize at Le Boui-Boui, where the fourth wall is more of a sliding door. Without spoiling specifics, the show balances confessional intimacy with a buoyant sense of play, leaving you with the delightful feeling of having wandered through a city within a city, all constructed by voice, presence, and a finely tuned ear for everyday music.

As a venue, we’re especially excited by the momentum Camille Lienard builds beyond this stage. The appetite for sharp, contemporary stage writing is palpable, and her current creative arc aligns with what our audience loves: character-driven beats, vibrant improvisational reflexes, and a diaristic tenderness that never softens the punch. You’ll recognize, in her timing and framing, a kinship with the incisive energy of recent French talk-and-comedy formats—think the quick-fire wit listeners savor on Drôles de Chroniques or Par Jupiter ! and the observational agility that resonates with fans of Quotidien or Clique—while remaining unmistakably her own voice. C'est pas la nuit qu'elle dort captures a particular cultural moment: the hustle that bleeds into midnight, the phone that turns into a mirror, the way the brain writes lists when the heart just wants a lullaby. After dates like this one at Le Boui-Boui, audiences often tell us the show follows them home; they replay lines while brushing their teeth or waiting for the tram, noticing how Camille’s turns of phrase nest in everyday life. We’ve structured the room to keep that connection tight—clear sightlines, intimate sound, a sense that everyone is in on the secret—so that when Camille Lienard returns with new pages and fresh nocturnal epiphanies, the conversation continues right where it left off.