B.flank the mane, strong and resounding the voice, decisive and sure the judgments: there are no doubts or diplomatic dance, e he does not deny anything of his past, including films ignored by the public or massacred by critics. “They taught me to avoid certain mistakes, and they encouraged me to improve as a filmmaker.”
You listen to it with respect, you admire it. Claude Lelouch belongs to that generation of filmmakers who knew and know how to do everything: writing, shooting, editing a film, taking care of the lights, producing. And above all to risk continuously, without ever giving up. An example among all: when in 2004 Les Parisiens was mistreated by the press – le Monde called it “indigestible”, Libération a “pathetic disaster” – the director decided to open 400 theaters in France for free to anyone who wanted to see it. The most recent film of her is L’amour c’est mieux que la vie – he claims it’s the last, but it sounds unrealistic.
Claude Lelouch on the red carpet of his film “L’Amour C’est Mieux Que La Vie” during 47th Deauville American Film Festival on September 9, 2021 in Deauville, France. (Photo by Foc Kan / FilmMagic)
Claude Lelouch, in the limelight since 1966
Eighty-five years old next October, Lelouch has been on the international limelight since the days of One man, one woman – Oscar in 1966 for the best screenplay. His life is an adventure novel, from when he was a young boy already shooting with the camera given to him by his father, then the shorts during his years of military service, and again the documentaries he wrote, produced and shot at full speed. For a season he was the most popular of the French authors.
We met him at the presentation of the documentary Tourner pour vivre directed by Philippe Azoulay, who followed and filmed him for nine years. «A human and spiritual adventure» explains Lelouch enthusiastically, where you meet collaborators and actors – Anouk Aimée, Jean Lous Trintignant (recently deceased, ed), Johnny Hallyday, Christopher Lambert, and admirers such as Quentin Tarantino and Karl Lagerfeld.
Anouk Aimée and Jean-Luois Trintingnant, protagonists of “A man, a woman” (1966).
From his office-museum he collects hundreds of awards, Lelouch talks to us about his world, of his vision as a director still and always looking for new experiences and emotions. It is his inexhaustible curiosity for human nature that forces him to reflect, through images, on the reality that surrounds him.
It was 1966 when the resounding success of One man, one woman made her, then a twenty-nine-year-old semi-unknown, a hero of French and international cinema. More than half a century has passed, Claude Lelouch continues to produce and shoot films. Is it easier, or harder to be a filmmaker today?
Neither easier nor more difficult, there are no yesterday, today and tomorrow, there is good and bad, there are ups and downs, as always. When I started in the 60s, however, it wasn’t that simple, you had to know cinema and its techniques thoroughly. Today you have seven billion potential directors, anyone can have a camera and make a film. Just think that the vast majority of the images of the war in Ukraine are filmed with the iPhone. In the years I ran One man, one woman It was not like this.
He was a child during the Second World War, was captured by the Nazis with his mother and sent to Dachau. Some traumas are indelible. How do you live the war in Ukraine now?
I don’t want to think about another world war, I just hope that both sides decide to come to an agreement, because otherwise a cosmic disaster, the end of the world, is inevitable.
Claude Lelouch and his current partner, the writer Valérie Perrin, author of the editorial success “Changing water to flowers”. (Photo by Rindoff Petroff / Suu / Getty Images)
He writes and directs all his films, but sometimes he produces films for others, as in the case of The Seacrets by Philippe Azoulay. How do you decide for a project?
I never ask myself too many questions, I love cinema and I love making films. I can’t explain it otherwise: why do you still love the woman you live with? It’s not a rational question, it’s the same with movies. I do it because not doing it would be like betraying my passion for cinema. Every day of my life I make a movie. For more than sixty years there hasn’t been a day when he didn’t use the camera, the classic one or the mobile phone. And I don’t do it for the public, but for me, because I see something that interests me, or that maybe I will need in the future. I am always intrigued by the world around me, so I live with the camera in hand.
She has never made a secret of loving women, on screen and in life. She has had three wives, two companions and, of her seven children, five are girls. What did you learn from them?
Everything, they taught me everything: I deeply believe in women, and I trust them. When I have them around I feel good, vital. God created men and women, he went wrong with the former but great with the female gender. You are the great success of him. (laughs)
He claims to be an amateur, not a professional. But after half a century of profession and fifty films it becomes difficult to believe her.
An amateur knows and knows what he is doing: he knows how to shoot, use the camera and the lights, do the editing, he knows everything because he must know everything. The professional is more specialized, it is a substantial difference. Then I make a film because I want to do it, in a sense it is a form of selfishness. This is why I have always had a production company, I choose projects, find financing and tour. Of course: I’ve made 51 films, you can call me a professional, but my approach is always that of an amateur, I’ve never changed.
Cannes film festival in 1968: in the photo Claude Lelouch, Jean-Luc Godard and Francois Truffaut. (Tourte / Gamma-Rapho via Getty Images)
Since the days of military service …
That was even my school. For the first time, I had big cameras, film and a real crew at my disposal. I used bad actors and there I understood how basic it was to have authentic performers and to know how to guide them. Above all, I learned to be independent, and how important artistic freedom is.
Today it is more and more frequent to see films in streaming and many authors work on TV series. Are you interested in trying this path?
I’m not a big fan of the series, the process is more industrial and less artistic. You can change director from episode to episode, without the audience even realizing it. The director has lost prominence and prestige, only the actors and producers count; indeed the director is their slave, he does not have a personal point of view.
Has the artistic level of film production therefore dropped?
There are, it is true, fewer bad films, but there are also fewer masterpieces. We live and work in a middle bubble. But could you imagine Fellini today struggling with a TV show? Furthermore, we must save private industry, and cinemas.
I can’t resist, I still feel the urge to ask her a question about A man, a woman. “Sciabadabadà”, Francis Lai’s soundtrack, is now a legend, I find myself humming it when I least expect it.
It is not the only one. Even today I continue to consider music an essential element of my films: words go to your brain, music speaks to the heart, and I seek a balance between the two forms. But only music, however, can transport the public to heaven: you can sense this from the facial expressions of the spectators.
His films have often been targeted by critics. What would change today if you could go back?
I have no regrets, not even one. I made all my films following momentary intuitions and emotions. I made mistakes and some movies didn’t turn out as I imagined them. I have experienced disappointments, but when I made the wrong choice it was always in good faith. Each time I rush up like a cat, hoping to land firmly on my paws, but it doesn’t always happen. On the other hand, only mistakes allow you to improve, and it is the mistakes that allowed me to turn One man, one woman.
Looking at Tourner pour vivre one senses his love for everyday life: he films it with pleasure. Do you remember a particular moment?
The day my father died. He had a heart attack and I held him in my arms. I was 22 and I wanted to die too. Instead I took the camera and filmed it as soon as he left. I knew then that I had a career ahead of me. I spent the whole night with my father, looking at him and listening to him: even though he could no longer speak to me he confided so many things to me for the first time. It was there that I realized that we need to spend more time with our dead. And that many images and situations in the films are inspired by those who are no longer there. Dreams do not fall by chance from the sky …
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