"I felt an urgency to speak to the women of my generation": the Astrid Veillon show to see in Mandelieu-la-Napoule and Carqueiranne

There are plays that make you laugh. Others that move you. And if we talked about it , Astrid Veillon's new creation, to be seen in Mandelieu-la-Napoule this Tuesday evening and in Carqueiranne on August 21, does both at the same time. On stage, Astrid Veillon and four other actresses, Léa François, Christine Lemler, Valérie Baurens and Célia Mocydlarz, explore with infectious energy the multiple facets of femininity, all carried by a staging that invites the spectator into this living room, to the heart of the secrets.
Far from the boulevard play, Et si on en parlé is a dive into a birthday party unlike any other, that of Loulou, who is celebrating her fiftieth birthday. Around this novelist in crisis, three friends, as well as Loulou's daughter, meet to take stock. Halfway between comedy and confession, the play is an invitation into a living room where we laugh, we are moved, and sometimes, we cry. Without grandstanding, Astrid Veillon proves that truth and sincerity are the most beautiful weapons of communion and communication.
A little over twenty years after The Bathroom , what made you want to write a new play?
Following the success of The Bathroom , many people asked me to write a sequel, but I had nothing to say at the time. Writing just for the sake of writing, I didn't really see the point. Then turning fifty inspired me, I felt an urgency to talk to women of my generation, about women in their entirety, beyond age, in a world where debate is becoming rare. I had this impression that we had to seize the moment, that we no longer had a choice, these words had to come out so that we would feel less alone.
In your opinion, female emancipation does not necessarily rhyme with greater happiness. Why?
We've gained more freedoms and rights, but I'm not sure we're happier than our grandmothers. Today, women combine independence with a huge mental burden. Some still can't afford to leave a toxic partner; it's not that simple. We're asked to be everything at once, and after a while, it takes its toll. Freedom, yes, but at what cost?
In your play, you talk about sexuality, menopause, and desire—themes that are still rare in theater. Why this freedom of tone?
I didn't even ask myself what people would think, it was obvious to me. Talking about women without bringing up these subjects would be missing the point. Saying that we sometimes fake it, that we don't always get off, that some don't like sex... it frees up speech in a way and opens up dialogue, even in couples. Many women feel alone and think they have problems, when no, that's not the case. I didn't invent anything, I fed off what was happening around me.
And men, how do they react to the play?
They love it! It allows them to open their eyes, and also to enter into a kind of feminine intimacy, because they are rarely invited to this kind of gathering. The most boorish will say that they take it on the chin, and the more refined will say that it feels good. I have seen spectators, with tears in their eyes, say to me: "But it's so hard to be a woman."
Before going on stage, do you have any rituals to combat stage fright?
We have a little collective battle cry with all the actresses and stage managers, and then we say a big "shit!". I go on stage as if I were going to spend an evening with my friends. I don't even think about the audience, I'm Loulou, not Astrid. We're there to give pleasure, not to save lives. If we don't take pleasure ourselves, we can't transmit it.
This Tuesday evening at 9 p.m. at the Robinson Theater in Mandelieu-la-Napoule. Tickets range from €25 to €33.
August 21, at the Clair-Val Auditorium in Carqueiranne. Tickets from 25 to 30 euros.
Var-Matin