After introducing his “artistic family” in Les Idoles (Odéon, 2019), Christophe Honoré calls upon his own family for Le Ciel de Nantes. The author, director, and filmmaker has long cherished this project as “an imaginary film.” But it is finally on a theater stage resembling an abandoned cinema that he brings it to life. The family, resurrected at Christophe’s call, comes to see his film, which is said to have borne witness to them all. Three generations are present. Odette, known as Mémé Kiki, a war widow, had ten children, eight of them with Father Puig. Among them are Jacques, Claudie, and Marie-Do. Against a backdrop of social history, workers' struggles, immigration, the Algerian War, and the rise of the far right, the plot intertwines six destinies across three generations. Fifty years of unspoken words and scores to settle. Many memories too, shared like gifts: televised matches of the "Canaries" (FC Nantes football club), melodies by Sheila and Joe Dassin… A family portrait where, for the duration of a performance, the need to speak to loved ones is expressed with heart-wrenching tenderness.

Once again, Christophe Honoré delivers one of the family epics he has mastered. But this time, however, it is his own to which he dedicates himself. Before the audience's eyes, he unfolds the thread of a film never made, retracing the history of his maternal family. A family too large, too sensitive, decimated by violence, addiction, and death. And yet, a family where love and care reign supreme. Throughout the play, carried by a magnificent lightness and narrative skill, each character opens up, learns to understand one another, to share with us a powerful story, one to which no one can remain indifferent.

In an old, disused movie theater, the young Christophe Honoré has arranged to meet with a select group of family members to discuss what could be seen as a lifelong project: an autobiographical film, a tribute to a fractured family, victims of every excess.

Present are his grandmother Odette, known as Granny Kiki, his grandfather (played by the stunning Harrison Arévalo), three of his uncles and aunts, and finally his mother, the only one of this merry band still alive (cleverly portrayed by Julien Honoré, the director's brother, and therefore his own son). Against a backdrop of social history and class struggle, Christophe Honoré orchestrates a magnificent ballet where the living and the dead mingle and disentangle themselves, to tell us about their joys and sorrows, and lay their cards on the table to revisit three generations of unspoken words and secrets. It is a heart-wrenching portrait of a broken family where each member, by revealing their truth, tries to piece together, not without difficulty, all the scattered fragments. As the narrator struggles to unravel his story, each character offers their own anecdote, their own version of events, inviting us to rise above the heavy drama that hangs in the air thanks to an underlying irony and biting, often humorous, dialogue. A kind of impressionistic puzzle, teeming with tenderness, from which emerges an ode to life and family, brought to life by impressively talented actors. Each in their own way, the performers reveal themselves with a perfectly controlled precision, making us feel their emotions as they speak.

The scenes flow seamlessly, punctuated by videos and musical interludes that only Honoré seems to possess the secret to. From Sheila to Joe Dassin, by way of Barbara and the music of his close friend Alex Beaupain, the director delivers a touching epic, a true testament to the love he bears for his decimated family. A tribute that, despite his initial fears, seems entirely worthy of this family so profoundly affected by life. A moment of grace that prompts us to reflect on the importance of legacy, of passing things on, and on how the dead continue to influence us every day.