Yvain Dans Pas Courageux - Le Boui-boui, Lyon

Le Boui-Boui welcomes Yvain with Pas Courageux

At Le Boui-Boui, we champion comedy that feels close-up, personal, and alive to the moment—and that is exactly why we are thrilled to host Yvain with his show Pas Courageux. Our stage is built for quicksilver timing and conversational honesty, the kind of setting where a comedian can turn everyday anxiety into laughter that ripples through the room. From the opening minutes of Pas Courageux, Yvain leans into vulnerability with a playful defiance: awkward encounters, small acts of bravery that never quite happen, and the slippery courage it takes to admit you’re not feeling heroic today. The humor is agile rather than aggressive, carried by attentive storytelling and a knack for throwing open a door in the middle of a sentence to reveal a punchline hiding in plain sight. We hear that intake of breath audiences make when they recognize themselves, followed by the release that only sharp, humane comedy can deliver—an atmosphere our room is designed to amplify.

Onstage now: the craft behind Pas Courageux

What sets Pas Courageux apart on our stage is the way Yvain fuses crowd-aware banter with finely shaped stories. He lets the room breathe: a rhetorical feint, a pause for a sidelong look, a detour that pays off two beats later. You’ll catch him reframing those micro-panics that define modern life—texting etiquette, the performance of confidence at work, the strange heroics of grocery shopping—then threading them back to a single through-line: courage isn’t a roar, it’s a whisper you learn to trust. Fans of contemporary French stand-up will feel at home; if you follow the energy of Jamel Comedy Club, the tight, club-ready punch of Le Paname Comedy Club, or the precision showcased at Montreux Comedy, you’ll recognize the craft instincts at play, even as Yvain’s tone stays resolutely personal. As a room, we love the way he uses our intimacy to build running jokes across the night—callbacks that click into place and make you wonder how he managed to plant them so casually earlier on. It’s deft, unshowy technique that keeps the surprises coming without ever breaking the conversational spell.

We’re equally excited about what Pas Courageux signals for Yvain’s current artistic moment. He arrives at Le Boui-Boui in a phase of focused creation, polishing new angles on fear, friendship, and that quiet tug-of-war between impulse and hesitation that shapes daily choices. You can feel the workshop spirit—bits scaled down to their nimblest form, then gradually widened to take in relationships, city rhythms, and the brittle optimism of a generation learning to cope with uncertainty. In conversation with the audience, he sometimes improvises bridges that become seeds for the next story; it’s the sort of iterative work our room was made for. Listeners who keep up with contemporary comedy conversations via shows such as Le Paname Comedy Club, Un Bon Moment, or the festival-format spotlights surrounding Montreux Comedy will recognize the current: a move toward candor, stakes, and emotional payoff without losing the snap of a classic tag. At Le Boui-Boui, we see that evolution up close: Yvain shaping Pas Courageux into a show that laughs at fear without dismissing it, and invites everyone in the room to share the relief of naming what we’d rather dodge—then laughing because, together, we finally did.