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A strike is on at the sawmill, reeking of sweat and lust. Beyond the picket lines, hungry eyes turn to Querelle, a worker who is impossibly handsome, perfectly free, and perhaps dangerous. Under the eyes of Jézabel, one of the few female workers at the mill, his provocative presence stirs up masculine desire and virility. Bottles fly and bats swing as rage explodes into violence.
Raw and lyrical, Kev Lambert’s award-winning novel is adapted by director Olivier Arteau into a play rooted in physical passion and anger. It challenges heteronormativity and neoliberalism while raising a troubling question: is violence the only way to make yourself heard when you belong to a minority—as a queer man, Indigenous person, or struggling worker? Shifting between fantasy and reality, set to factory noise and a thrumming organ mounted on an 18-wheeler, Arteau’s show unfolds in visions and projected images, with the audience in the role of voyeur. By the end, Querelle is not just a man, but an enigma reflecting our own obsessions.
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