Jérôme Commandeur

Jerome Commandeur's return to the stage feels good to my being, to my soul. With his fine, blade-like sallies, he wants to make laugh that France which is embedded in his body, the one that flows in his veins. From his Normandy undergrowth scented with the verdant hills of the Loire, passing through the salty beaches of the Atlantic, he carries his audience everywhere on his shoulder. Proudly. Outrageously. Go boy, I remove the wheels from your little bicycle and watch you take flight, like a gull drunk on wind above Jersey.