All you have to do is walk through a small door on rue des Martyrs, on the Butte Montmartre, in Paris, to find yourself in another world and out of time.
Stéphane, the maitre d', welcomes you in such a benevolent way that you would think you were coming to dine at his house.
We eat, then at 10 p.m., the show begins.
To perfect the atmosphere, Gregory, the master of ceremonies, sings three pretty songs before giving way to the eight Michettes and their new show.
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We are at Michou's and we are good there.
The death of the founder has not changed anything in this room of barely 70 seats where conviviality is essential.
The numbers of the transformists follow one another, the clones of Régine, Patricia Kaas, Céline Dion, Mireille Mathieu, Brigitte Bardot... follow one another on the stage.
Les Michettes sing for us and with passion these variety tunes that have entered the collective unconscious.
Towards the middle of this anthology,
Le Moumousse in love,
by André Valtier, a jewel of the Montmartre cabaret of the 1950s. In short, we sing on stage and often very well, and so joyfully that the public gets into it too.
Even the most stuck up get caught up in the game!
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This exercise of men singing women's roles may seem a bit caricatural, but it is precisely one of the keys to the recipe since it is a question of laughing heartily and allowing yourself to do so.
On this 3 m² stage, the Michettes achieve feats.
Their numbers are set to the millimeter, and that's good: perched on their vertiginous heels, one misstep and they would fall into the plates in the front row.
As a grand finale, they offer a round of flowers whose allusions to their
“bouquet”
trigger thunderous applause.
Proof that the public had a good evening, they slowly leave the premises.
Cabaret Michou, 80, rue des Martyrs, Paris 18th (01.46.06.16.04).
