The Black List Interview: Noémie Merlant & Céline Sciamma on PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE
My favorite movie-going experience in 2019 may have been seeing Céline Sciamma’s exquisite PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE at the 105-year old Prytania Theatre in New Orleans as a part of the New Orleans Film Festival. Being in an ancient theater only added to my immersion in the film’s sumptuous, sensual world, created by Sciamma and her incredible lead actresses, Noémie Merlant and Adèle Haenel. I spoke to Merlant and Sciamma about how they built a welcoming atmosphere on set, the power of the female gaze in narrative, secrets in cinema, and much more.
Noémie Merlant
What was your experience like reading this script for the first time? What resonated with you about the portrayal of Marianne?
It was a huge experience reading this script, because what I felt is that it represented something we’ve missed — these images, representations, and stories that we’ve been missing so much of. I realized that while I was reading that because we’re in a society and culture that is so inside the male gaze that we don’t even notice that this is the male gaze, this is one gaze — while I was reading it I realized that. And then, everything was so detailed — everything was in the script so the script was alive. There was all the breathing, the looks, the movements, the desire that was crawling…it was slow, and it was taking the time to build this love story of a woman and it was all about details taking the time, building excitement, expectations and desire slowly with new images, like the sex scene.
And so I realized the power of this love story. Marianne touched me really deeply because she’s a really modern character. She’s a curious voyeur, she’s a painter, she doesn’t want to get married. She is modern in that way, and that represents all these women that we’ve forgotten and erased from society and history. These painters — hundreds of women from that period were just erased. Through this love story with Heloise (Adèle Haenel) she finds her style of portraiture, because of their collaboration. She feels so grateful to be a painter that she’s stuck in the rules and the ideas and the way of “do a portrait that’s very good” and she’s stuck in this vision.Heloise wakes her up: “This is not me, this is not you, this is not us. This is not a woman, this portrait is not representing us.” And at that point, my mind changed. This script, for me, was what Heloise was for Marianne.
Throughout the film, we’re breaking out of that idea of the male gaze too — challenging rules by the old masters to create something entirely different. What was the most challenging part of creating this character for you? What was your favorite part about playing her?
There was not one scene that was particularly harder than another. What was hard was to keep something, a feeling, present from the beginning to the end of shooting the movie — there was a lot of restriction because of the period and the costumes and the dialogue and the light and the focus, it’s candle-lit. Every movement was written. I was finding a way to make it alive, and include me and my vision as an artist, too. I knew that I couldn’t move much while I was sitting, that I had to say the lines and do a smile or a gaze…But it was really trying to find a new way to look at Heloise each time, to find a new way to breathe. As the story grows and the desire grows too: Having a smile more open, more large, having movement more free, dresses less tight, and everyone smiling more.
I think the film does a great job of exploring the necessity of the collaboration among women that happens around art, but I also really loved that the film is about female kinship on all levels. Whether that’s making a meal together, sleeping together spending time together. What was the atmosphere like on set as you guys were creating that little bubble of the three of you in the house spending time together?
On set, the way that Celiné works is to create an environment of respect and kindness. But it’s about having fun too— we’re of course being serious because we’re working, but at the same time, we’re having fun. For this movie, we were all together in a house, we called it “Champs Mer.” Like the movie, we were all together in this house, the girls were together, and we were always together in creating and discussing what we did. It was really a parallel of the movie and the experience of the movie.
What do you hope modern audiences take away from PORTRAIT OF A LADY ON FIRE, which is a very different take on a period film than we’ve ever seen before.
Despite the fact that it’s a period film, it’s modern because it shows things like the abortion scene that we’re not used to seeing. The sex scene is an entirely new image, a new representation of the lesbian story which has of course existed before, but has never been present enough. The female gaze and intimacy of women…that’s a story that hasn’t been told, with the woman as subject and not as object. This feeling of creating mirrors this new experience of love — the excitement of imagination and artist collaboration, and the desire that grows slowly in details and images.
Céline Sciamma
How did the initial idea for this film spark within you? What was your writing process like knowing you were going be directing the film as well?
Well, I wanted to write a love story, I wanted to dedicate a film to love and to desire. And to have these two emotions embodied very patiently — what the process of falling in love actually looks like, moving away from the conventional idea of love at first sight and romance.
The chemistry between Noémie Merlant and Adèle Haenel in this film stars with a smolder then becomes incendiary, as you mentioned. How did you work with the two of them in pre-production and on set to make their relationship be viscerally felt on screen?
This chemistry definitely burst in front of my eyes during the casting process. First, I met Noémie alone with my casting director — she made a strong impression. Then during callbacks, the second round was with Adèle, and when I saw the both of them in the frame I knew that this was right.There was this strong physical contrast that I was looking for, very cinematic, but there was a strong also sense of equality, since they’re the same age, same height, and both have very strong intensity. We stopped there! We didn’t rehearse at all, so that they would actually meet on the set and during pre-production. Sometimes I rehearse before shooting, it depends on the film — WATER LILIES we rehearsed a lot, GIRLHOOD we rehearsed a lot, TOMBOY not at all, and PORTRAIT not at all. Because it was about love and all the danger of the unknown, it felt right for all of us to actually also be in that position.
There’s a sort of pervasive sensuality in this film — whether its a smear of paint or crumb of bread, we’re immersed in the same sensual world that the three leads are in. How did you work with your various department heads to make the world of this film come alive?
By being really minimalist regarding set design. It’s a paradox — even though this film is period piece, this is a film where I had less innovation on the set design because we’d come to this castle in the Parisian periphery where we shot most of the film, and it was untouched for… 150 years? So, the color of the walls…we didn’t choose that. [laughs] We entered this room, and we decided that we were gonna leave it that way. And there was a vibe from the past that actually made me super confident — so whereas in my previous film [GIRLHOOD] there was a lot of set construction, even the teenager’s rooms, there was no fourth wall, so then we decided to put very few things in the frame, just wooden boxes and fabric that was very low-key: linen, cotton. This also extended to the costume design, but with fabrics that were silky. To anchor the film and the sociology of that particular moment in Brittany— period pieces are often mundane, you know. We built the bed, we built the table in the kitchen, we felt we were inventing very minimalist furniture.
There are so many elements in this film that reflect modernity and almost an otherworldliness that we don’t often see in period films, whether that’s the abortion scene or the ghostly visions, or the psychedelic sequence. At what point did you decide to bring in these contemporary trappings to a tradition period film?
They all came up along the way, like “Oh, I want Adèle to appear because it’s mostly about ideas. I want Adèle to appear as a ghost because it’s the present of a love story, but also a memory of a love story, the contagion of these two layers.” The idea behind this is the fact that the minute Noémie falls in love and she knows it, she’s already haunted by the last image that she will see of Adèle. And then, when you have this idea, you try to really be brave about it and be generous about it, not make it this little anecdote, but put it all over. That what happens with Orpheus and Eurydice for instance — I was looking for a scene, a sort of “Netflix and chill” scene between the three girls where they would be super involved in a climatic bit of fiction, and then talk about it, and do a whole show of suspense. And then I thought, it’s also a way to see the myth from a woman’s perspective, and from the perspective of Eurydice. Sometimes it’s just an image — like for instance, Adèle on fire is an image that came out of nowhere, but was immediately like “I want this.” Suddenly, it gives you the title, suddenly, you have to find, “Why would she be set on fire?” So it should be outside, it should be a great fire, and then it’s “Maybe it should be a bonfire!” It’s strange to believe in your intuition and connect things that are not supposed to be connected. You begin to build the plot around strong desire for certain images that have mystery, and suddenly, you bring enough in to not rely on the mystery, but to connect them and to build the narrative around them.
Your last four films have been about developing the female identity, however that may look. Do you feel like you’re making a films in similar thematic territory, or is each film its own thing?
Well, after the the sort of adolescence trilogy (WATER LILIES, TOMBOY, and GIRLHOOD) I really felt like I was departing with PORTRAIT because it’s a story about grown-ups, with professional actresses and a love story that is fully lived, whereas before there was always a love interest, but it was mostly desire as a way to discover yourself. With this one, even though they are discovering themselves, it’s about this iconic couple, this duo and how a love story involves immense patience.
I’m still thinking about the last ten minutes of this film — that art show sequence is so breathtaking, especially as it concludes with the book in Heloise’s hand. You were speaking earlier about finding images before finding the plot — did you already have the images in mind for that ending sequence at the start of the film?
The last scene I had in mind since the beginning, I basically did the film to land there. But I didn’t actually think about the fact that there would be three endings, because there are three endings of the film. For instance, from the book, the page 28 reference, that’s a totally different process — it’s really about looking at a lot of painting at the time and the art of portraiture. I liked the fact that there were little secrets involved, and I decided I had to hide a secret in the painting. I thought it would be in the painting that Marianne would do, but then maybe it could be in the painting that Marianne would see. I had a list of different types of secrets, it’s very codified — for instance, in painting at the time, especially for marriage portraits, there’s a cage and a bird inside, if the door is open, it means she’s not a virgin anymore, if it’s closed, she is. I was finding our own little secret code, and also relying on the audience’s pleasure and intelligence that I’m always trying to think the audience has, that the viewers are the most intelligent person. It’s also knowing that the pleasure of being a viewer in cinema is about being immersed in a film and speaking the language of the film, and as the film goes more and more and more, you speak the language of the film, and the page… it’s a fucking number, but suddenly it means something for you as much as it means something for the character. That’s the kind of thing I’m always looking for — I thought about it for months, finding just the right treasure.
