Yvain Dans Pas Courageux - Le Boui-boui, Lyon

At Le Boui-Boui: an intimate encounter with Yvain

At Le Boui-Boui, we relish the kind of night where laughter bounces off our intimate walls, the stage is within arm’s reach, and the performer can hear the audience’s breathing change as a punchline lands. That is exactly why we are proud to host Yvain in his new hour, Pas courageux. Our room’s close-up setting thrives on performers who blend narrative finesse with quick-fire crowd rapport, and Yvain’s sensibility fits that bill: conversational, razor-observant, and joyfully self-deprecating. Expect the pace and precision that this space demands—beats sharpened by proximity, expressions magnified by the low lights, and spontaneous asides that only happen when a comedian can truly see every smile and raised eyebrow. In Pas courageux, Yvain treats timidity as a playground, transforming hesitation into momentum and awkwardness into a shared secret. At Le Boui-Boui, we’re primed for those sparks: a mischievous shrug becomes a callback, a tiny pause becomes a roar, and our audience gets to feel like conspirators in a performance that keeps reshaping itself in real time.

Yvain’s current momentum, from fresh bits to onstage polish

We’ve watched Yvain’s current creative streak gather pace, with new pieces surfacing in clubs and online before settling into the architecture of Pas courageux. The comic’s recent sketch titles—Le mode courage, Extincteur émotionnel, Appels masqués, and Entretien d’embauche (pas prêt)—have given audiences a taste of his evolving voice: a knack for turning minor embarrassments into miniature epics. He’s also teased playful set pieces like Le voisin du dessus and Panique au rayon frais, blending character work with sharply tuned physicality. Those building blocks now anchor a fuller arc in our room: a show that moves from the brave face we wear in public to the whispered doubts we carry into elevators, job interviews, and first dates. From our vantage point at Le Boui-Boui, it’s been exciting to see how these fragments have matured—tighter tags, warmer transitions, and a performer increasingly willing to embrace silence before detonating it with an unexpected angle. This is the kind of creative moment we love to host: a comedian consolidating ideas, testing new risks, and letting the room shape the rhythm.

Pas courageux at Le Boui-Boui is built like a conversation you didn’t know you needed. Yvain opens with the small stuff—unreturned calls, phantom alarms, the “I’ll do it tomorrow” trap—then escalates into the bigger fears that shadow everyday life: standing up for oneself, confessing affection, saying no. In our intimate Lyon hideout, the material becomes tactile; you feel each beat as Yvain toggles between mischievous storyteller and flustered anti-hero. The show’s centerpiece bits stitch together running threads from earlier sketches: a cleverly choreographed sequence that nods to Le mode courage and Appels masqués, a flurry of one-liners that echoes Extincteur émotionnel, and an audience riff that retools the panic of Entretien d’embauche (pas prêt) into a joyous group exercise. Because our stage is so close to the seats, the performance can stretch and breathe: quick crowd work, glances that turn into improvisations, and callbacks that loop the entire room into a single wavelength. It’s stand-up with the volume of humanity turned up—timid confessions that bloom into catharsis, and a performer who understands how to transform a small fear into a big communal laugh. For Le Boui-Boui, that is the magic we hope for every night: a show that belongs to the audience as much as to the artist, and a comedian whose craft rises to meet the energy of a room ready to lean in.