Magnus Jakobsson

It starts in one room: a young man in pajamas lies down and sleeps. He agitates, turns, returns. He is recovering, sits on his bed and a cloud of smoke is coming from his skull, he loses an arm, a leg. He enters a fantasy world where all objects come to life. The swallowed pillow passes his door, a reflection of the mirror emancipates, the portrait of the table rebels and sings his dismay. Dishes and utensils are transformed into a fabulous bestiary where dragon and rhinos are fighting. Gags in cascade, anachronistic nose-feet in acrobatics, juggling on the trapeze, dancing lyric songs, James Thiérrée puts the reality upside down and takes us into a surreal and dreamlike symphony played by interpreters to staggering energy.