Juste pour rire

At first, I was hesitant to go. Not a fan of big crowds, I was I glad though that I did in the end.

Exiting the metro, I was greeted by one of many elaborately dressed performers on stilts, and the steady, steady sound of African drums. Overhead, the papermache head of Hardy, with his iconic thin smile and moustache, gazed down at the gathering crowd with his goofy eyes. Festival Juste pour rire de Montreal ("Montreal Just for Laughs Festival"), is not just laughs and gags, but an elaborate series of festivities, shows and colours that lasts for almost an entire month.

For much of July, downtown Montreal is turned into a giant podium. Against the backdrop of skyscrapers and the normally crowded main thoroughfares of the city, the city's heart beats vibrantly in the heat of Summer, as hordes of revellers from all over the place descend on Montreal to... have a good laugh. Best of all, at no (one's) expense. Already in its twenty-third year, the festival combines acrobatic acts with pantomimes, games, slapstick comedy and street performances of all sorts and sizes. Making people laugh is the central theme, with each day jam packed with a variety of parades, live music and dance.

With friends, I stood on the St Catherine, the city's main artery, waited and watched the night's carnival go by. From the political to the spectacular, from outright outrageous makeup and masks to costumes and floats with important messages. There were surprise tricks, pranks and games played with the cheering crowd. It was a confused and yet delightful feast for the imagination. Fish dancing in synch, political leaders caricatured and spoofed, walking light bulbs, and a flock of forlorn and stained flamingos served as a critique and reminder of the seriousness of the latest oil spill-- an environmental catastrophe of unmatched proportions, which after four months is still unsolved. People aligned the pavements, tiptoeing to catch a glimpse of the action, clapping along with the music, sounds and noises blaring flutes, horns, drums or strange instruments made out of recycled materials and a stretch of the creativity. Signs and billboards carried important messages, about the need for tolerance, the beauty of celebrating diversity and differences. Even the colourful decors of shop windows and bright neonlights of (in)famous "dance clubs" seemed to join in the cacophony of lights and sound.

Perhaps the highlight of the spectacle, and host of the festival, is the midgety green mascote of Juste pour rire, Victor. He has a cheeky grin, fangs and devil-like red horns.. Yet despite his looks, his intentions are simple and pure. Victor makes sudden appearances on stage, next to dancing tongues, mock versions of Japanese robots, and can-can girls, "preying" on unsuspecting victim to infect them with the precious gift of... smiles and laughter. Children, grown-ups, teens; nobody is immune to his powerful spell of causing mayhem, chaos with colourful dance routines and catchy show-tunes. Victor's girlfriend, Rose, also makes surprise appearances. Though perhaps ten times taller and fatter, Rose 'floats' and waves around the various stages. The finale was a romantic reunion of the two lovers... under moonlight, under falling confetti in the shape of hearts, and under the magical, mesmerising lyrics of love songs. Cupids flew and dangled high in the sky, spreading red flames and light snow showers to bless the world with awe, love and laughter.

Standing there, merely "a face in the crowd", I felt a sense of joy. Joy brought about by my own laughter, the laughter of friends, and the laughter of countless others.