A sketch comedy by Jean-Pierre Martinez
English translation by the author
From 2 to 20 actors or actresses
If an old suitcase could speak, it might have some funny stories to tell…
This text is available to read for free. However, an authorisation is required from the author prior to any public performance, whether by professional or amateur companies. To get in touch with Jean-Pierre Martinez and ask an authorisation to represent one of his works CONTACT FORM
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The Suitcase, or the Theatre of Every Departure
In Des valises sous les yeux, fifteen sketches are brought together around a single motif: departure. The characters are preparing to travel, to leave someone, to change their lives or, sometimes, to leave existence altogether. The suitcase signals that movement is imminent, yet its destination often remains uncertain. It may contain a traveller’s belongings, the remnants of a life, or simply the desire to see what lies elsewhere. Each scene thus captures a moment of transition, when one is still hesitating between staying and leaving.
The writing makes virtuoso use of all the expressions associated with travel: packing one’s bags, carrying too much baggage, taking flight or making the final leap. An ordinary phrase is taken literally, then pushed towards the absurd through a succession of shifts and misunderstandings. The dialogues seem to go round in circles, yet every detour moves the situation forward. An innocuous conversation about a suitcase, a journey or a separation gradually opens onto more unexpected questions. The comedy lies less in the event itself than in the characters’ inability to agree on the meaning of words and on the reality those words are supposed to describe.
Beneath this lightness, the collection develops a bittersweet meditation on what it means to leave. Travel may represent a promise of freedom, but also exile, separation, old age or death. Some characters dream of an elsewhere about which they know nothing; others discover that, at the end of a lifetime, everything they own fits into a modest suitcase. The object then becomes a metaphor for the baggage each of us carries: a few memories, some habits, regrets and the fragile hope of a second chance. Even the final departure is subjected to administrative procedures, commercial logic and linguistic mishaps, as though society were trying to make the unknown as ordinary as a package holiday.
Finally, the suitcase is a profoundly theatrical prop. Easy to move and immediately evocative, it is enough to suggest a railway station, an abandoned home, a prison or the edge of an abyss. With a cast ranging flexibly from two to thirty performers, a handful of actors can successively inhabit a multitude of lives. The first sketch shows characters ready to leave the stage because there is no audience; the last turns an investigation into a firework display of theatrical references before one final exit. Between these two moments, the play appears as a succession of entrances and departures. For living, like acting, may simply consist in occupying the stage for a while before picking up one’s suitcase and making room for those who come next.