Glissant Glissant

They talk about faith, art, love, politics, burnout and conviction. Until an extraterrestrial and a “Great Computer” that resembles a technological deity appear, derailing the ceremony. Meaning becomes just another commodity, and what once seemed solid slowly starts to slide.

After its sold-out run at the CTD’A in 2026, the dark comedy Glissant glissant returns at the Cinquième Salle of Place des Arts, with barely more resources than at the Salle Jean-Claude Germain and an even more caustic take on our need to believe.

Directly incorporating its own conditions of creation — lack of funding, precarity, exhaustion — punctuated with delicious jabs at current events, the play is fueled by self-deprecation and excess. With almost nothing on stage, it turns theatre into a fragile but vibrant space, where people can still come together, question things and keep pushing the rock up the hill. “Along the way, we are served up anger, song, dance, a fight, an overdose, near-nudity, delightful political projections, an artificial intelligence that goes rogue, some serious questioning, the end of the world, cries from the heart, a manifesto and endless bursts of laughter.” (Bible urbaine)

Written by François Ruel-Côté (actor, playwright and comedian from the now-defunct duo Brick et Brack) and directed by Cédrik Lapratte-Roy, this offbeat creation by Théâtre La moindre des choses hides under “a layer of absurdity that is fully embraced” (Revue JEU) a clear-eyed commentary on the precarity of the cultural sector and makes theatre “a place where we can still come together to laugh at what is keeping us all down.” 

“As our culture has become little more than a giant billboard where artists are sacrificed, I wanted to make the most of the privilege theatre still offers: to create and speak without compromise. Here, we can do whatever we want… just without any money.” — François Ruel-Côté