Édouard Louis makes a practice of publishing his novels first — The History of Violence, The End of Eddy, Who Killed My Father — and then adapting them to the stage. With his now established collaborator Thomas Ostermeier directing the stage version, co-produced with Shaubühne Berlin and Théâtre de la Ville, he’s presenting the most recent of his unflinching autobiographical backward glances.
And with it, Louis as his extremely fervent, angry, conflicted, confrontational self. Tall, lean, loose-limbed — not to say loose-wristed — Louis, or Eddy, mixes national politics with family politics as he gads about for approximately 100 minutes on a sparsely furnished stage (Nina Wetzel the designer) and before busy projections (Sébastien Dupouey, Marie Sanchez the designers).
It’s important to understand that Louis is a member of the Yellow Vests (les gilets jaunes), the leftist group formed in November, 2018 and actively protesting then — less headline-grabbing now. That explains, at least to some extent, his stressing French racism at his outset and his return to, as he sees them, French injustices later. (His comments are here, too, as indigenous racism flourishes)
Louis’ subdued introductory rant ends shortly, as he shifts into a lengthy discourse on the rocky relationship with his parents — his father more than his mother. He recalls that as an effeminate boy, his father scorned him. Asked one Christmas for his preferred gift, he said he wanted something to do with Titanic. Told Titanic is a girl’s movie, he balked at other offered gifts and was told he’ll receive nothing.
A box complete with Titanic objects does come his way, at which point he picks up a microphone (he’s been using mics throughout), skids to his knees and lip-syncs while Celine intones “My Heart Will Go On.” For this interlude he doesn’t don a flowing wig but does as another point, flaunting his delight in cross-dressed performing.
Put succinctly, much of Who Killed My Father is an ardent discourse on father-son relations, in particular when what constitutes masculinity is a dominant theme. More to the point, it’s an open display of his accepting himself for who he is and whom he wants to remain.
Eddy’s mother isn’t left out of the charged banter leading up to his decision. Speaking English to make certain the American audience gets it, Louis recounts an ugly confrontation he prompts when his mother says his effeminacy is making the neighbors talk about faggotry. She reports that Eddy is embarrassing her. Outraged, he finds a way to get revenge.
Through the monolog, there are spots where Louis implies that his behavior is the underlying cause of his father’s death — not that it’s entirely clear his father is deceased. But as he nears the end of his benighted tale, he returns to national French politics, to politics by which he at last wins his father’s support.
He brings up the last four French presidents — Jacques Chirac, Nicolas Sarkozy, François Hollande, Emmanuel Macron — and how their policies have strapped the lower-class populace. His unalloyed repudiation of them results in finally obtaining paternal agreement as well as an unsaid accusation of his father’s killers. (He has nothing to say about Marine Le Pen. If he had, it likely would not have been favorable.)
As Louis ambles along his merry/unmerry way, there are drawbacks. Many, unfortunately, are related to the abundant supertitles. Because Lois speaks quickly, the projected translations pass by in the blink of an eye. More problematic is their all being in white lettering, too often against light images. Is there a reason why black letters weren’t used — switching to white when images are dark?
When Who Killed My Father (question mark not included) opens, Louis is sitting at an upstage desk, all but mumbling his lines. It’s as if he’s addressing himself only. Perhaps he is, but he does need to let audience members overhear him. The decibel deprivation recurs intermittently, not, as suggested above, substantially aided by the supertitles.
The projections, shown on a huge screen, are another hitch. At the beginning the prolonged image is of long country roads sliding by, not that Louis is describing copious travels. Later, when his recollections are more explosive, bursts of garish colors are projected and held, obtrusively. There is a sequence of (presumably) him dancing — even moonwalking — along a shore, the tide lapping that does have thematic resonance.
Several times during the dramatic discourse, some form of the French word “regarder” is spoken, most notably when Eddy puts on a musical performance for his father and friends that only has the effect of making his father look determinedly away.
Unfortunately, this is an instance of translation not fully achieving the intent. Usually, “regarder” is transferred to English as “look.” “Regarder” does, however, have a wider implication. It can mean not just look at me but regard me, take me in.
Louis deserves to be taken in. With Who Killed My Father the question becomes: Is he better taken in on the stage or on the page?
Who Killed My Father opened May 22, 2022, at St. Ann’s Warehouse and runs through June 5. Tickets and information: stannswarehouse.org
