Bérénice

The love between Titus and Bérénice is an impossible one. Neither of them can admit it. Bérénice cannot even conceive of it: her lover has been swearing his undying love for five years now. As for Titus, he prefers to close his eyes to it, drowning his sorrows. But then comes the tragic day. Torn between the way of the world and lovers’ faith, choices must be made. A choice that will tear them apart. And yet it would seem that one word alone is all Titus needs in order to dictate his will to the entire universe and marry Bérénice. She herself encourages him: “Talk, speak!” Why does he remain powerless?... Racine himself gives us the following indication: “All invention”, here, “is about making something out of nothing”. Silently, void of any coups de théâtre, this “nothing” becomes a dividing line which opens up between the two lovers, and separates them. It widens the gulf between them but also prompts their voices to rise up in “majestic sadness”, culminating in a mighty outpouring of undying passion. As we have seen from her directing work in Une Bête dans la Jungle and Un Amour impossible, Célie Pauthe is particularly sensitive to poignant stories such as these in which we find a distillation of the essence of an intimate bond. Her Bérénice, which she came to through her readings of Duras, will be borne out of this same intuition.