Catherine Dorion | Sciences po 101

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. 

A true gem of contemporary Mexican theatre, Mi madre y el dinero (literally “My Mother and Money”) tackles work, theatre, and economics in a heady blend of social critique, tender lyricism, and political observation. It features director Anarcasis Ramos alongside his mother.

In a room in Port-au-Prince, by the light of a candle, a couple trembles, loves, cries, remembers, and tears itself apart to the rhythm of a city gripped by violence. Zily wants to leave with Ferah, but he, who works at the city hospital, cannot bring himself to abandon his island. How can one love in a city that is collapsing? How can one love their city while being forced to consider fleeing it?