Ted Pluviose
Sarah-Jeanne Labrosse, François Bellefeuille, Guylaine Tremblay and Mehdi Bousaidan are back to form the core of performers of Bye Bye 2021, 53rd edition of this long-awaited annual review. This highly talented quartet is supported by many mystery guests that the public has the pleasure to discover throughout the show. Producer Guillaume Lespérance and content producer and director Simon Olivier Fecteau are at the helm of the show for the sixth year in a row.
Simon Aubert runs his entire life on lies. An executive at an aviation company, he lies about everything… Simon’s self-serving lies are so abundant that the universe (governed by a handful of Buddhist monks, it seems) decides to right a wrong by teaching him a lesson and making all of the lies reality on the eve of his company’s crucial meeting with a Russian businessman that Simon absolutely needs to impress in order to prevent the closure of the small-town plant where his twin brother Phil works.
It is a small village somewhere in Quebec with only 215 inhabitants. When young Simon Dubé dies in a car accident, the villagers’ tranquil and regulated existence is thrown out of step. People are decidedly reluctant to talk about the accident. Time seems to lose all meaning. Snowy, frosty winter days stretch out into infinity. Mysterious figures emerge from the fog and commit strange acts. But what seems strange is sometimes more familiar than one might suspect.
George Édouard is a janitor at the Montréal Polytechnique. The only other person he meets at night is a PhD student in physics, Audrey. They often meet to talk about music and science. One day George Édouard sees the return of his long-lost brother, René. The latter attended an exorcism. A ghost of the earthquake in Haiti has haunted him since.
Claire, a recently retired widow, shares her suburban house with her sister Gisele. On a scorching summer day, Julien an old flame, shows up unexpectedly with the intention of winning Claire back. Proof that life never ceases to amaze us.
Que ta joie demeure is not a documentary about being a slave to the machine, alienation, dehumanisation or exploitation. Sound and image, editing and dramatic structure are merely employed to transpose workshops and factory floors into the cinematic space so as to explore the bizarre environments that workers adapt to and with which they skillfully interact, as if humanity had never done anything else since time immemorial.
This is the portrait of two recently released prisoners (Pierrette Robitaille and Romane Bohringer) who learn to live in a sugar shack deep in the forest.
