Dramaturgy of the Paris Olympics Opening Ceremony

There was a lot going on in the Paris Olympics Opening Ceremony! There are some helpful online explainers in French, including on French Wikipedia and this article by dance critic Delphine Goater.

Director Thomas Jolly is interested in creating community through theatre, embracing the spectacular, and juxtaposing high culture with popular culture. In one interview published in Exhibition magazine, he explains these interests as a product of having grown up in the internet age: “The accessibility of cultural objects, whatever they may be, leads to their de-hierarchisation. On my computer screen I can have open, simultaneously, a Beyoncé video and an article on Deleuze whilst I am reading Maeterlinck.” We can see this mingling of literary and historical references with popular culture throughout the Opening Ceremony. In some cases, such as Lady Gaga's iconic performance of Zizi Jeanmaire's "Mon Truc en plumes," Jolly arguably celebrates popular culture as a form of high culture. Palimpsestuous layers of meaning resound, culminating in Céline Dion’s bravura performance of the Edith Piaf standard “Hymne à l’amour” while styled as if she were playing the lead in Evita. But it begins with Aya Nakamura in gold, with golden fireworks and golden background dancers, in a dress that reminded me of this image of Louis XIV as Apollo:

 

In following the performance, the clearest dramaturgical indicators for me were the section headings. The ceremony was divided into chapters that riff on the core values of the French Revolution. In addition to the standard three (Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité), which are grouped together as Chapter 4, these are Enchanté, Synchronicité, Sororité, Sportivité, Festivité, Obscurité, Solidarité, Solennité, Eternité. All of these nouns have the same « -té » ending in French. In English they would be Enchanted, Synchronicity, (Liberty, Equality, Fraternity), Sorority, Athleticism, Festivity, Obscurity, Solidarity, Solemnity, and Eternity. The first one (Enchanté) is particularly playful, because the word literally means “Enchanted,” but it’s primarily used as “nice to meet you” in rituals of introduction. So the ceremony positions itself as enchanting the Seine and the city, while also introducing itself and welcoming spectators.   

I am especially interested in the Liberté and Festivité sections, which have been the most controversial and also offer many layers of meaning. But I'll steer clear of Festivité for the moment, other than to say that Dionysus looked like Papa Smurf to me and there are lots of comments from French spectators who agree (because Les Schtroumps maintain a level of popularity in France that is much higher than in the U.S.). DJ Barbara Butch says that her costume represented the goddess of music (I have also learned that Barbara Butch is apparently her given name). 

“Liberté” begins with an excerpt from the musical Les Misérables (adapted from Victor Hugo’s novel), in a revival that will premiere at the Théâtre du Châtelet in November 2024. Next, a headless Marie-Antoinette sings the revolutionary song “Ça ira,” whose lyrics recommend hanging aristocrats from the nearest lamppost. She is in the Conciergerie, where the historical Marie-Antoinette was imprisoned prior to her execution, and is apparently not the only Marie-Antoinette in the building. She is holding her severed head, which suggests martyrdom. So a rehabilitated revolutionary Marie-Antoinette sacrificed herself for the good of France? We can’t think too hard about that in the moment, because French metal band Gojira takes up the theme of “Ça ira” in a new musical idiom. Opera singer Marina Viotti sings lyrics of “Ça ira” to the tune of Carmen’s habanera (from Bizet’s French opera set in Spain). Some lyrics are heard in English (“Without fear of fire or flame.”) Red streamers shower from the windows of the Conciergerie.

This is not the end of the Liberté section, which transforms into a segment filmed in the hallowed halls of the Richelieu site of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. I would characterize this segment as exploring libertine ideas and scenarios. The three characters flirt with each other as they encounter various titles of French literature exploring love and sex. Most of these feature a love triangle, and/or forbidden love. Some are by authors important to the LGBT community because they were involved in same-sex relationships (Verlaine, Radiguet). The pansexual throuple offers a utopian rewriting of the power dynamics involved in a literary love triangle. Here's a list of the works shown:    

Paul Verlaine, Romances sans paroles (Romances without words, 1874)

Alfred de Musset, On ne badine pas avec l’amour (No Trifling With Love, 1834 ; first performed 1861)

Maupassant, Bel-Ami (1885)

Annie Ernaux, Passion simple (Simple passion, 1992)

Leïla Slimani, Sexe et mensonges (Sex and Lies, 2017 ; English translation 2021)

Raymond Radiguet, Le Diable au corps (The Devil in the Flesh, 1923)

Choderlos de Laclos, Les Liaisons dangereuses (1782)

Molière, Les Amants magnifiques (1670)

Marivaux, Le Triomphe de l’amour (1732)

The Marivaux is the most interesting to me, because a woman disguises herself as a man in order to gain access to the household of the man she hopes to marry for political reasons (he has a legitimate claim on her throne and could attempt a coup). Manipulating her disguise, she manages to captivate two men and a woman. She rejects one man and one woman at the end of the play, deploying a subversive performance of gender for the purpose of upholding political order.                

I am as fascinated by French culture as I am by the amount of discourse emerging from this Olympics Opening Ceremony! I may try to write more about this.