French director Marion Siéfert keeps a finger on the pulse of our digital life. In “2 or 3 Things I Know About You,” she playfully tackled oversharing on Facebook, before addressing the dangers of online streaming in “_jeanne_dark_” — a show that violated Instagram’s moderation policy when it broadcast live on the platform.
With ‘Daddy’, a sharp, unbridled new production at the Odéon-Théâtre de l’Europe in Paris, Siéfert ventures even further into the dark corners of the internet. In it, a 13-year-old is cared for online by an older man and gets lost in a virtual reality game that exploits teenage girls for profit.
It also marks a new phase in Siéfert’s career. ‘Daddy’ is her first big-budget production for a major theater and one of the most anticipated premieres of the Parisian season. So Siéfert swings much bigger, in all areas: larger cast, more atmospheric sets and a somewhat indulgent playing time of three and a half hours. Yet her biting originality remains intact.
Reality is no match for screen entertainment in ‘Daddy’. The main character, Mara, is a quiet teenager from the South of France. A delicately written scene introduces her family early on: her parents, a nurse and a security guard, are too exhausted from their low-paying jobs to pay much attention to their daughters. It’s no surprise that whenever she can, Mara escapes into the bright landscape of online gaming.
In an unnamed video game, she joins Julien, a smooth 27-year-old who is her frequent online partner in crime. The easy intimacy they have built up is demonstrated through a spectacular video sequence: on a screen the size of the Odéon stage, we see a 3D game designed by video artist Antoine Briot in which the avatars of Mara and Julien attacking enemies shoot guns before jumping on fluorescent skateboards.
All the time we hear Mara and Julien banter over their headphones. “You’re the toughest girl in this game,” says Julien.
The foundations have been laid for the violent dynamics that arise. When they first meet outside the game, on a video call, Mara confides in Julien that she dreams of becoming an actress. He compliments her and tells her about “Daddy” – a new game that allows players, says Julien, to become avatars sponsored by sugar daddies, showcasing their talents to a “fan base”.
Siéfert has a knack for assembling captivating unconventional actors, and just as “_jeanne_dark_” was tailor-made for Helena de Laurens, a shape-shifter who isn’t afraid to lean into grotesque physicality, “Daddy” owes a lot to his two central performers. As Mara, 15-year-old Lila Houel, who came to the production with limited stage experience, is rudely candid in these early scenes, with turns of phrase emphasizing the character’s blue-collar background. Opposite her is Louis Peres, best known as a screen actor, a surprising descendant of Christian Bale’s tech generation in “American Psycho”: sleek, controlled, smooth creepy.
Siéfert’s smartest move is to leave video and special effects behind once the two enter the game world of “Daddy”. The virtual space becomes a sinister, almost empty stage dotted with what appear to be snow hills, where Mara encounters other young women who are victims.
The rules of “Papa” are not entirely clear. Men invest so that teenage girls can perform routines that earn them points from fans. For example, Houel performs a scene from the movie “Interview with the Vampire”; the bubbly Jennifer Gold, who plays reigning star Jessica, delivers cabaret-style numbers, including Marilyn Monroe’s “My Heart Belongs to Daddy” from the 1960 movie “Let’s Make Love.”
The points and the fans are never shown — Siéfert deliberately keeps it vague. The focus is on the dynamics of child abuse, and the erosion of Mara’s individuality and willpower by Julien. While some scenes of verbal and physical abuse are disturbing enough to make you fear for Houel’s sanity, she tackles the occasion with astonishing sang-froid, quietly pursuing and then seething in act two.
Siéfert co-wrote “Daddy” with Matthieu Bareyre, and some of the points they make don’t take that long to get across: cuts would be welcome. Still, “Daddy” speaks to the zeitgeist and lives of teens today with a blend of ease and critical distance few directors can match.
And even at 11:30 p.m., a final scene had the audience sitting up and leaning forward. After a bloody narrative twist, the back wall of the stage slid away to reveal the street outside, and a performer stumbled into the play from the leafy quarter of the Odéon – while a few passersby stopped in amazement to watch the action on stage. In Siéfert’s theatre, the real and the virtual repeatedly collide in refreshing ways.
Daddy
Through May 26 at the Odéon — Théâtre de l’Europe in Paris; theatre-odeon.eu.