Angels
Hell's Angels Hell, it's a quest that explores the visual underground life of the Paris metro. We present extra-ordinary characters, we examine their dreams and harsh realities. We transform the everyday into a beautiful and grotesque masquerade through physicality, slapstick buffoonery, poetry and the Lambada. Angels of Hell creates a world without text that is far from silent. It reflects the deep anguish that words can not reach. Words come when there's nothing more to say.
We are strangers raised together in the dirt and noise and stench. Our patron: the iron box in which we are fighting for space. Our individual lives are at in secret in our heads, like rats running in the dark under the belly of the dragon belching carrier. We cling to our secrets, like the bags that we take tight against our breasts. We do our best not to touch, not to see our fellow citizens of the machine in motion, but rub knees and looks are exchanged harsh. Finally the sound of doors closing, we hold our breath, not breathe the air of others. We are thrown into the dark, below the city, below our real lives. We travel together from one platform to another, an oblong of light, of hope in the dim unreality of this lonely crowd. Finally it's our turn to be released. We well up in a hurry, trying to find the open air.
But the others? Those living in the dark? Passengers, drivers, drunks, musicians, howler and silent viewers? The sleepers on the docks? They are the angels of Hell, who spend every day, briefly, in our lives. Angels of Hell open this secret underground world as a child raises the roof of a doll house and invites you to join us in our journey into the secret lives of these ordinary angels.
The subway is a nightmare, a dream is hell and we? We are angels hell.
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