One morning, Joël Maillard writes Résilience mon cul, an (almost) uncensored and (mostly) uncompromising stand-up routine. He peppers it with some either very funny or downright sinister songs, it depends. His lyrics are not always ironic nor poetic, and offer more or less clear-sighted and optimistic views on our common future.
On stage, there is a microphone, an old keyboard and Joël Maillard. As for the staging, it amounts to almost nothing.
Bemused by the fact that people are so quick to invoke resilience in the face of every catastrophe, rather like a magic formula, he nevertheless vaguely touches upon the subject, as well as some more intimate areas. With the help of punchlines that he attempts to land, and some well-hidden alexandrines, he tackles interesting notions such as meditation, faith in the future, but also some touchy subjects.