Yvain Dans Pas Courageux - Le Boui-boui, Lyon

Welcoming Yvain and Pas courageux to our intimate stage at Le Boui-Boui

At Le Boui-Boui, we pride ourselves on being the kind of Lyon stage where you can hear every inflection, witness every raised eyebrow, and feel the room breathe with the performer. That proximity is exactly why Pas courageux is such a perfect fit for our space: Yvain’s comedy thrives on the living pulse between artist and audience. The premise—fear, hesitation, the art of not being a hero—becomes a springboard for razor-sharp observations about everyday survival. In our room, the seemingly small moments that Yvain dissects grow delightfully larger than life: the awkward dance at an automatic door, the sudden paralysis when a phone rings with an unknown number, the micro-strategies people invent for escalators, meetings, and first dates. Our technical team has designed a streamlined setup for this run to keep the focus on his presence and rhythm—minimalist light cues that follow the logic of the joke rather than the spectacle, and a sound texture that leaves space for the spontaneous riff, the unexpected tag, the audience aside. From the first beat, Pas courageux is a conversation, and at Le Boui-Boui that conversation feels personal, immediate, and irreproducible anywhere else.

Yvain’s current momentum: fresh material, sharper angles, and the energy of the room

We welcome Yvain at a moment when his creative engine is running hot. The new pages he brings to Pas courageux this season lean into the paradoxes of modern boldness: the way we curate bravery on social media while bargaining with our nerves in real life, the heroic narratives we tell ourselves on Monday morning and abandon by Tuesday afternoon. On our stage, he turns those contradictions into sequences that build with musical precision—setups that unfold in concentric circles, then collapse into a punchline that makes the whole room recognize itself. As a performer, Yvain uses silence as part of the joke: the half-beat where the audience sees the thought forming, the beat-and-a-half where they realize they’ve had the same thought. That economy of movement and wordplay is precisely the kind of craft our venue loves to champion. If you have discovered his recent club-length bits around town, you will notice how he has tightened the callbacks and woven new threads through the set here, allowing themes from early in the hour to bloom unexpectedly near the end. The result is a show with momentum, a sense that something larger is being sketched in real time, and that our room is part of its DNA.

For those curious about the flavors inside Pas courageux, Yvain currently anchors his hour with a sequence of compact stories that feel like mini-plays: he arrives at the idea sideways, then turns it over until the absurdity gleams. In our latest performances, audiences have responded loudly to bits he has been refining under working titles such as “Panique au Carrefour,” a wonderfully precise analysis of how courage evaporates under fluorescent lights; “Héros d’Appartement,” which maps the epic saga of a buzzing intercom and a pair of slippers; and “Le Courage du Bouton d’Ascenseur,” a sly meditation on etiquette, fear, and the heroism of pressing for someone else. He threads them with quick-hit observational tags about public transport, neighborly diplomacy, and that famously French instinct to look brave while secretly negotiating with one’s nerves. As a room built for comedy’s living heartbeat, Le Boui-Boui gives these segments a tactile presence—laughter that rolls forward, pauses, and comes back stronger when a callback detonates two stories later. If you have followed Yvain’s recent club appearances and studio try-outs across the city’s comedy nights, you will appreciate how this Le Boui-Boui chapter crystallizes his current artistic moment: playful, precise, and deeply connected to the audience sitting a few steps from the mic.