In the vast, empty halls of a large building — maybe a school, a church, or some combination of both — Mademoiselle Kenopsia occupies a sliver of space. She checks on the rooms, inspects the industrial kitchen, and takes calls from a distant supervisor. She is entirely alone. Unless she isn’t. There’s really no point in describing Denis Côté’s latest any further: Like the eponymous character, Mademoiselle Kenopsia simply exists, waiting for us to take notice. It’s a performance piece, and a meditation on loneliness and the isolation, embodied in one person.
