La Cage aux Folles – Théâtre du Châtelet, Paris

La Cage aux Folles continues at Théâtre du Châtelet, Paris until 11 January 2026.

Star rating: four stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ✩

Laurent Lafitte commands the stage as Albin/Zaza in this French reimagining of Jerry Herman’s beloved musical, now playing at the Théâtre du Châtelet. Lafitte blends dramatic vulnerability with comedic brilliance, his rich baritone voice adding warmth to Herman’s score while navigating both glamorous excess and genuine heartbreak with remarkable skill. Whether engaging playfully with audience members or delivering emotionally charged moments, his performance radiates charisma and depth. 

This marks the first significant French production of La Cage in many years, arriving after the Châtelet’s well-received Les Misérables last year. The timing suggests Parisian theatergoers are increasingly receptive to Broadway adaptations drawn from French sources – a trend exemplified by the 2019 success of An American in Paris. The previous production of La Cage at Théâtre Mogador struggled to find an audience in Paris in 1999 because the French couldn’t get away from Michel Serrault’s legendary performance in the film trilogy (1978-1985) so snubbed Jerry Herman’s musicalisation.

Director Olivier Py, a prominent figure in French theatre who previously led the Avignon Festival, honours the material’s French theatrical heritage while infusing it with modern sensibilities. His staging pulses with nightclub energy, evoking the Riviera’s glamorous atmosphere through immersive design choices. Py’s script restoration is particularly interesting – he reintroduces elements from Jean Poiret’s original 1973 play that Broadway’s version omitted, including a comedic toast mishap and an amusing plate sequence that French theatre enthusiasts will especially appreciate. 

The narrative remains timelessly resonant: Georges runs a drag club in Saint-Tropez with his partner Albin, who performs as the spectacular Zaza. Their comfortable existence faces upheaval when their son announces plans to marry a conservative politician’s daughter – a plot point that echoes uncomfortably with contemporary far right movements in France. The ensuing comedy of mistaken identities showcases Herman’s memorable compositions, including the defiant ‘I Am What I Am’ and the charming ‘(A Little More’ Mascara’, both celebrating authenticity against conformity. 

Py’s new French lyrics demonstrate considerable wit and emotional intelligence, crafted for today’s audiences with clever wordplay and touching sentiment. However, they occasionally feel less organic with Herman’s melodies than Alain Marcel’s 1999 translation achieved. 

Damien Bigourdan delivers a grounded, likeable Georges, his lighter vocal style reminiscent of operetta traditions and Poiret’s original play. His chemistry with Lafitte feels genuine, particularly in tender duets like ‘Song on the Sand’.

The supporting ensemble sparkles throughout. Émeline Bayart fully commits to the broad comedy of Marie Dindon with theatrical flair, while Emeric Payet provides memorable comic relief as Jacob. Gilles Vajou and Lara Neumann contribute solidly, backed by a talented ensemble representing France’s musical theatre community. 

Pierre-André Weitz’s scenic design impressively transforms the space through fluid transitions, conjuring a luxurious Saint-Tropez world of shimmering bars and starlit nights that balances spectacular scale with intimate moments. The costume work – more than 150 pieces – generally dazzles, particularly Zaza’s extravagant feathered gowns and sequinned creations. The red and gold ensemble numbers are stunning, successfully mixing flamboyance with emotional authenticity. 

Some visual elements disappoint, however. The Cagelles’ opening costumes lack individual personality, presenting an all-male chorus (departing from the original’s mixed casting) in matching, generic outfits. Ivo Bauchiero’s choreography has energy but shows inconsistent precision, and surprisingly omits the can-can during the title number – a curious choice given how effectively the 1999 Mogador production incorporated police routines into that moment. 

Christophe Grapperon conducts the Orchestre des Frivolités Parisiennes through Herman’s exuberant music, though the reduced ensemble of nine musicians cannot replicate the original orchestration’s fullness. String sections particularly suffer from this scaling down, resulting in thinner textures. The theatre’s acoustics occasionally obscure lyrics, and Py’s textual choices don’t always align smoothly with the melodic lines. Large choral sections lose some impact, though projected subtitles help clarify the words. 

The show’s history reveals its remarkable cultural journey. Poiret’s 1973 comedy – influenced by works like Charles Dyer’s Staircase – ran nearly 1,800 performances in Paris before inspiring Édouard Molinaro’s movies starring Ugo Tognazzi and Serrault, which earned Golden Globe recognition.

Mike Nichols’ 1996 American film adaptation The Birdcage, featuring Robin Williams and Nathan Lane, grossed over $185 million internationally. The Broadway musical debuted in 1983 with Harvey Fierstein’s book and Herman’s final major score (he died in 2019), claiming six Tony Awards including Best Musical and spawning successful revivals in 2004 and 2010. 

For its time, the show broke significant ground. It revived lavish Golden Age musical traditions when such styles were declining, aligning Herman with his earlier successes like Hello, Dolly! and Mame rather than the more intellectual approaches of contemporaries like Stephen Sondheim (whose Sunday in the Park With George lost the Tony to La Cage).

Most daringly, it centred a loving gay couple raising their son within a drag club setting – a bold choice in 1983 that worried creators during previews, as Broadway had few precedents beyond subtle references in shows like Cabaret or Applause. The production ultimately won broad acceptance through romantic songs like ‘Song on the Sand’ and ‘With You On My Arm’, which emphasised universal themes of partnership. London’s production faced conservative opposition, including health-related warnings, which curtailed its run at the Palladium, a venue traditionally associated with family entertainment. 

Despite its technical limitations, this revival bursts with vitality and emotion. It successfully reconnects the musical to its French theatrical roots while addressing contemporary questions of identity and acceptance. Through Lafitte’s magnetic central performance and Py’s ambitious if imperfect vision, the production offers an uplifting celebration wrapped in sequins and Herman’s enduring, generous melodies. 

Patrick Honoré