‘Perchés…’ – Cie Chabatz D’entrar

'Perchés…' - Cie Chabatz D'Entrar - given to us by Alliance Française and the French Art and Film Festival 2012, is what the French are good at – simple stories, well told and with a slightly surreal edge to them.  Last night, after wending a long way into the velvet and sparkling city of Kuala Lumpur, and beyond, from my suburban home - we eventually discovered Kuala Lumpur Performing Arts Centre (KLPAC). That home for all things performance based was secreted within a park at Sentul, almost hidden amongst the verdant foliage and ponds of robust Koi carp.

As we waited to shuffle our way to the theatre hall we were becoming increasingly bethronged by the usual kissy, kissy, lovey, lovey wet-cheeked crowd who generally turn out for such city theatre performances. I could not help but notice that in this multi-cultural, multi-ethnic equatorial city of Kuala Lumpur there was a large(ish) crowd of pale Europeans and a much smaller crowd of locals. It could have been the expat French contingent flocking to support their motherland’s endeavour, or simply a lack of interest on behalf of the more local inhabitants of our emerald city, but the disparity was noticeable.

It was a fine performance, spoilt only by an irritatingly rude blonde woman who was objecting to my camera clicking, and brusquely demanding that I cease. No amount of explaining would suffice that harpy who then proceeded to chitter-chatter her way through the entire performance – hence making more noise than my few camera clicks could ever have made. Nevertheless, and despite aforementioned harpy, those few short minutes being enthralled by 'Perchés…' - Cie Chabatz D'Entrar will live on in my memory long after that spell-weaving troupe has packed up and returned back to the land Liberté, égalité, fraternité.

The story of 'Perchés…' - Cie Chabatz D'Entrar, was a far from straightforward romance. In its own unique way that story of enduring love and equilibrium was reminiscent of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and his engaging tale of the Little Prince blended, perhaps, with all the charm of Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain (Amélie) and the beguiling humour of Jacques Tati’s Monsieur Hulot.  The performance was a delightful, charming, balance between theatre and circus, referencing both while maintaining uniqueness unquestionably French. There was a fine matureness in the story (and performance) seldom seen in these equatorial lands, unfortunately.

With the long ‘legged’ movements of the only two characters/actors on that stage at KL PAC, as they were strapped onto their stilts, I was, at once, reminded of two things. One was of the French philosopher Jean-Paul Satre and his theses on balance, equilibrium - and the other, of certain memorable works by the Spanish painter Salvador Dali. Dali, if you remember, had flirted with the French Surrealists, and painted Sur réalité in his Paranoid Critical method. As I watched Anne-Karine Keller and Olivier Léger perform, those be-stilted figures reminded me of Dali’s elephants. There was a grace and elegance to those elongated, spindly, legs which brought to mind Dali’s Temptation of St. Anthony. That revelation brought home the weight - physical and metaphorical, that those stilts carried on that KL PAC stage floor, and the nuanced layers of meaning spinning like plates before us.

The short love story we were presented with, was in itself simple. Middle-class lovers play in circus inspired choreography. Theirs is the perfect life. They play, they tease, but the darker side appears as their societal position does not allow them to bend and pick up the caste away spoons/saucers which have been scattered - littering the stage. Tragedy arises in man’s fall; there is the pain of separation, realisation of sacrifice and the joy of reuniting amidst all the bathos and pathos of a remarkable performance, minimalist stage set, and music which both brings to life the actions on stage as well as audibly perfuming the theatre. The disappointment, if disappointment it was was only in the entire length of the performance and, as P.T. Barnum, or was that Walt Disney, said - always leave them wanting more – and that was how I, and many members of the audience were left – wanting more. I know that I most certainly did.