PostedSeptember 21, 2021, 4:59 PM
After presenting her first film, “Jane par Charlotte”, in Biel on Saturday, the actress confides in her mother, Jane Birkin, her father, Serge Gainsbourg, and her lack of self-confidence.
The theatrical release of “Jane by Charlotte” is scheduled for October 27, 2021.
Corbis via Getty Images
“Excuse me, I’m not peeing, I’m filling a kettle,” exclaims Charlotte Gainsbourg, picking up the phone. If the 50-year-old actress is not lacking in humor, she talks to us with sincerity about her first documentary as a director, “Jane par Charlotte”. The project is about his mother, Jane Birkin, and was presented last weekend during the French Film Festival of Helvetia in Bienne. “This is a film containing very shameless and at the same time discreet moments. I had the impression that something was happening between us starting from a very shy, a little fearful relationship to something much more relaxed.
Filled with confidences, strewn with memories, the documentary is a pictorial diary. In these confessions, it is a question of the guilt which often comes to haunt the 74-year-old artist, of the insomnia which agitates his nights since childhood or of his first marriage with John Barry. Without forgetting Serge Gainsbourg, of course, and his house on rue de Verneuil, which will soon be transformed into a museum. “The film was built by accident. I take great pleasure in things slipping away from me and leaving room for chance. The result is a happy coincidence,” says Charlotte Gainsbourg.
How did the idea for a documentary about your mother come about?
Not very clearly. It goes back five years. I was settled in the United States. I saw her very little. By attending a few concerts of the “Le Symphonique” tour, I wanted to capture it in images behind the scenes. My first idea was to follow her during a show in Japan and comment on everything. She agreed, but we didn’t know what we were getting into. During our first exchange, I asked him direct and, perhaps, too intimate questions. Some time later, just before his show in New York, I asked him if I could continue the project. She replied, “No, I hated it. You stop.” It freaked me out a bit. I didn’t feel like I had done anything terrible. I thought I had gone straight to the point, without sparing her. I didn’t bully her, but she didn’t take it well. I had to understand. I didn’t want to hurt her, so I let it go.
Did that change anything in your reports?
We remained on very good terms. Two years later, she came to see me in New York, I offered to watch the rushes. We discovered them together and it was rather modest. The light was beautiful. We understood the very personal tone. Against all odds, she said to me, “If you want to do it again, I’m fine.” We put the filming back in place. She was still on the same tour and I tuned into her next New York show. I was very careful throughout the process. (Laughs.) I wanted it to feel good and to be valued. I didn’t want there to be this somewhat tense climate that we had known. After New York, there was the Covid and I returned to France. I had plenty of places in mind where I wanted to capture her: in a photo studio, rue de Verneuil, in her house in Brest…
Did this experience bring you two closer?
No, I don’t think it changed anything. I regained my shyness and uneasiness. Her, her posture. I’m not saying that in a negative way. This exchange was a treasure, but we both have our personalities. I think she lived a moment of complicity and mutual aid. When I came back to France, I was not doing very well. She helped me a lot. She was always very cute for the documentary, and when she thought I was losing my footing, she confided in a way I never would have imagined. She held my hand.
When you first watched the documentary, did you fear his reaction?
Yes. I was not leading off. I brought Yvan (Editor’s note: Attal, Charlotte Gainsbourg’s husband since 1991) so that we are not alone. I really liked my movie. It never happened to me to be so happy with a result. I was very happy to find out that the documentary was working.
“At the time, I thought to myself that I would have liked to have had a mother who was a little more in line with the norm.”
What moment particularly touched you?
There is a very sweet moment when we are both in bed while I photograph her. My reference was a snapshot of me taken by my sister Kate (note: Barry). At the same time, we started talking about sleep and sleeping pills. I had the impression of a real moment of complicity and listening on my part. When I see the pictures, I also find it very beautiful. There is also this moment on the beach, where I say things that I would never have dared to say to her face. I recorded a text and played it on soundtrack while we see her walking. It was a beautiful declaration of love after all.
In particular, you say to him: “I would like to be like you. Trust in life. Be unsuspecting. Believe in human beings and be curious about everything. I need you to teach me how to live.” How did she react?
She was very moved. This sequence made her forget the passages where she could love herself a little less.
The film also shows that after the death of her daughter Kate Barry in 2013, she still managed to find the strength to move forward.
She is an incredible model of life force. Kate is a wound that will never heal. She can’t fill it, but my mother likes people. She is curious and all this keeps her alive. That’s why she moves forward. It has been off for a very long time. It’s a normal reaction. Then the touring projects gradually put her back on her feet.
Another important sequence was your return together to the rue de Verneuil where your father lived for many years. You seemed surprised that your mother never asked you to visit these places out of respect for you?
Yes. She would have liked me to invite her earlier, something I hadn’t imagined. I had such an intimate relationship with rue de Verneuil that I never thought of sharing it. Unless I was asked. A few people have already said to me, “Oh, I would love to visit your father’s house.” Of course, I opened the door and I understood that it was moving. But I never offered it first. Walking into this apartment upsets me. It has calmed down a bit over the years, but I go back thirty years each time. I didn’t think my mother wanted it.
“I think it’s fabulous to have had parents who had so much fun, love and heartbreak.”
You never talked about your father’s disappearance?
We kept our pain, we didn’t share it. At 19, it was such a brutal episode. I was completely unprepared and I no longer lived at home. It’s as if each of us had appropriated her pain… It was strange. Not to mention that this death is very unique. Everyone around us had a say. Automatically, we began to protect ourselves and internalize our heartbreak rather than talk about it.
You describe yourself as shy, but in the film you also describe yourself as a jealous person. That is to say?
My sisters and I have all three (note: Kate Barry, Charlotte Gainsbourg and Lou Doillon) different fathers and stories. Kate made a lot of noise because of her bullshit and it monopolized the attention. I left quite early to act in films and I was then quickly less present. On the weekends, I went to see my father and I felt like I was missing a lot of things at home. Even though I was fulfilled, I felt this somewhat selfish feeling. Strangely, it could be associated with the only child syndrome, despite the chance of having had brothers and sisters. Mom also changed when she had Lou. She has become much more of a mother, organizing meals at home.
Would you have liked her to do the same with you?
I wouldn’t change the life she had with my father for anything in the world. Today, I find it fabulous to have had parents who had so much fun, love and heartbreak. For a child in adulthood, this passionate side represents a strength. But, at the time, I said to myself that I would have liked to have had a mother who was a little more into the norm. I wasn’t sure I was at the same level. It’s awful, because today I feel good con to say that.
Yet you have nothing to envy your sisters or your mother.
It’s not envy. There were plenty of things that made me feel uncomfortable and caused a kind of embarrassment in me. I only saw my flaws. I didn’t like myself at all and it had to be done.
Yes, of course it’s better. I no longer have the same shyness. I no longer have the same apprehension. Today, if I make a mistake during a TV show or stumble over words, it no longer matters the same. I was so ashamed of not finding the right lyrics…
Are you also a perfectionist, perhaps?
Exact. Until it gets to a certain level, I don’t like it. At the same time with the texts that I wrote for the album “Rest” (note: released in 2017) With SebastiAn, it’s as if I had accepted my mediocrity. I’m not saying this in a pejorative way. I’m not a writing genius and I accept that. It almost makes me smile. I got used to not having my dad’s genius. But it is difficult.
your mother was stroke victim early September and canceled all of its meetings for the year. How is she today?
It’s okay. She has no sequelae. She gets pissed off at the hospital. (Laughs.) She can’t wait to get home. I understand her condition and it’s typical of her. It makes us smile.