Cyclorama: Can a Play Solve the Tension Between Francophones and Anglophones in Montreal?

Cyclorama – presented at the Centaur Theatre from October 11th to November 5th and written by Laurence Dauphinais– is a play that presents bilingualism as unusual, but necessary, as it allows two estranged communities to communicate.

As a francophone myself, I –Marie-Anne– have gotten used to constant bilingualism. While I study and spend my day in English, once I come home, I live in French. Rebecca, my colleague, has always loved Montreal for its multilingualism and the laughter of children who understand each other through gestures. She often eavesdrops on conversations in Arabic, in Korean, and in Russian, even if she does not understand a word of it. She thinks people laugh more naturally when they are speaking their native language. Even if we are used to the multiple languages of Montreal, we must not forget that these differences used to –and still– separate us.

The first act takes place at the Centaur Theatre and Laurence Dauphianis –playing herself– explains the goal of the night: to understand why and how a riff formed itself between the two halves of Montreal’s theatre scene and is it possible to reconnect them? Helped by Alexandre Cadieux, a francophone UQAM historian and professor, Erin Hurley, an anglophone McGill theatre professor, and by Laurence’s friend, Antoine Yared, together, they are able to answer the difficult question. 

While the historians are able to explain to the audience the history of Theatre in Montreal and Laurence presents her path to theatre, Antoine still questions his presence in the play as he has not been in Montreal for many years –having pursued his studies in Ontario. 

Montreal prides itself for its acceptance of all languages, for its “bonjour hi,” for its marriage of French and English. It’s what makes the city unique, what sets it apart from Toronto or Quebec City. 

History and geography, however, tell a different story. 

Francophone-Quebecer Laurence learned about the art of theatre in French; most of her plays are written and presented in French. Yet, when she attended a Montreal anglophone theatre award show, despite her decade-long submersion in the theatre industry, she felt out of place. Out of thousands of Montreal anglophone artists, she barely knew the names of a few.

Cyclorama oscillates between français and English. When the actors speak in French, subtitles are projected on a screen in English. Once the actors  switch to English mid-sentence –which happens often–, the subtitles become French. Throughout the play, this smooth oscillation between the two languages attempts to join the two artistic communities.

Using multiple historical documents –Images, maps, videos, audios and more–, the group is able to contextualize the rise of anglophone Theatre and the history of the Centaur Theatre. In a both creative a humouristic way, Cyclorama explores Montreal’s theatre history and exposes its division and duality. It covers the separatist movement, the Quiet Revolution, and other significant events and how they’ve altered Montreal’s theatre community. Alexandre and Laurence deliver a performance that showcases the francophone perspective while Erin and Antoine present the anglophone viewpoint.

The public is then invited on an STM bus for a guided tour of Montreal along the Saint-Laurent Boulevard, the clear and definitive line drawn between francophones and anglophones. Using audio cues and small booklets, the audience is immersed in the history of the city. 

The third act takes place at the Centre du Théâtre d’Aujourd’hui where the plays takes a more personal angle on the different characters. Antoine finally explains his vision of theatre and how, choosing English over French for its opportunities, he now feels disconnected from Montreal and his French roots. Laurence and Antoine, at times, bond over similarities; at times they argue over differences. Their stories tangle with each other’s and lead the audience to a lucid conclusion: art and emotion puncture translation flaws.

In an almost prop-less environment, the scene is divided in three zones: the front where Laurence and Antoine interact, a bigger screen on which Alexandre and Erin continue to project historical references, and the background where the actors interact as if they were in the artists’ loge, away from the audience. 

Through intricate light-play and carefully chosen historical elements, we are pulled inside of the story and immersed in Montreal’s history. The proximity with the actors also makes us feel as if we were part of the dialogue, the question, and, of course, the answer. 

Cyclorama entertains and provokes us through an amalgam of poignancy and wittiness. It makes the audience laugh with greatly-timed, oddly specific and somehow relatable anecdotes, but it also arouses tingles of melancholy. The play raises important questions on the sociopolitical tension between anglophones and francophones, their shared yet separate history, and their way of cohabitation.

Cyclorama suggests a future, a shared one between both artistic communities –one that allows art to transcend linguistic barriers.