As Long as our Hearts Blaze

A culture night less surprising than usual, since I'd booked.

When I go see my friends' shows – especially in small venues where you can't hide – I always prepare a line to say afterwards in case I hated it. ("You made me dream," Françoise Sagan is said to have told Jeanne Moreau after a play she slept through.)

I'm happy to say I didn't need it.

(I'm going through a time when my friends are doing amazing things. Here and there, for example.)

The play is simple, intimate, yet uncompromising. It builds. The staging is delicate, made of small objects and small gestures that come back here and there and tell a story. It was also a chance for me to see the path and the talents of someone I know come into their own in a personal, powerful play. Very moving. But don't worry: you don't need to know her to enjoy it.

Oh, and also: you'll learn things (about Chile, about Louise Michel...) and you'll come out a little less stupid. Which isn't true of most shows, or, let's be honest, of most of my films.

Tant que nos Coeurs Flamboient with Lorena Felei, written and directed by Laurent Contamin. At the Théâtre Essaïon until April 30th.