He grew up as an actor under the shadow of his father, a presence that shaped his early years in cinema. Philippe Garrel, a pivotal voice in contemporary French filmmaking, has appeared in the casts of many of the younger actor’s recent projects, a collaboration that helped pass a surname into the spotlight. Yet, alongside acting, he also ventured behind the camera, becoming a respected director in his own right. His fourth feature, Innocent, which he both directed and starred in, blends wit with a crime plot and draws inspiration from a personal biography connected to his mother, who was an actress and director. Brigitte Syshe, a figure who ran theater workshops in prisons and even married a prisoner, influenced a world of art that mingled performance with real life in provocative ways.
How did you decide to make a movie inspired by your mother?
First I decided to direct an adventure film and immediately thought of linking it to the prison world, because that world has always felt close to me. As a child, my mother hosted gatherings and social events at home with ex-convicts and intellectuals who explored marginal lives. Ex-convicts would share stories that highlighted the romantic side of crime, and I developed a certain admiration for criminals who choose to live outside conventional society, constantly wandering in the shadows of danger.
The Innocents isn’t a dark movie anyway. The exact opposite.
When a filmmaker decides to speak about his own mother, the result is often a somber and serious film. Yet Innocent aims to be light and entertaining, a film for a wide audience. The aim was to blend genres that soften each other, including detective elements and romantic comedy. The film carries a tension that remains balanced, a love story that avoids excessive sentimentality, and above all a pure escape from reality that seeks to delight the audience.
To what extent is this quest to escape reality connected to auteur cinema and a way of questioning the public’s image of you?
Perhaps unconsciously. Early in his acting career, directors tended to cast him in dark, tortured roles that could feel unsympathetic. Looking back at his twenty year old self, he would admit that this version of the character did not reflect who he is, and there was a sense of judgment toward that young self.
What part of his own life might inspire his children for a future film?
His children will be free to choose their own paths, but he hopes they pursue endeavors that are useful to society, such as geography or medicine. He believes they are bright and capable, and as a kid his own dream was to win a skating championship. He skewed toward action sports, and while he can’t predict the future, he would not be surprised to direct a movie drawn from that world someday.
Would you say that directing now matters more to him than his acting studies?
Not at all. The thrill of acting continues to excite him, and he often imagines collaborations with directors and actors he admires. He would love to work with Pedro Almodóvar, a dear friend, and he admits a certain fascination with Will Ferrell. A dream scenario would be to star in a comedy with him.
In recent years, he produced two films under the direction of Roman Polanski and Woody Allen, figures who have faced serious misconduct accusations. Is it possible to separate works of art from the morality of those who create them?
There is no simple yes or no here. The cinema world is engaged in a long overdue self-evaluation regarding sexism and gender dynamics. He considers himself sensitive and supportive of feminist values, yet he acknowledges moments when macho impulses surface. Surrounding himself with friends who can challenge him and with younger, clearer voices helps keep him accountable, and that accountability is ongoing, in his view.
He is not yet forty, after all.
Age does not frighten him, and he does not miss the person he used to be. Time has left its mark, though. He used to feel more alive at night, but now he often chooses evenings at home with films. Another reminder is the mood Instagram can create; if he were twenty today, he might enjoy sharing more of himself online, yet looking at others’ posts sometimes brings a mix of envy and contempt that underscores the passage of time.
Louis Garrel and Roschdy Zem appear in a still from The Innocent, a film that pairs personal history with a broader cinema landscape. The project sits at an intersection of memory, craft, and public life, inviting viewers to reflect on the line between art and the lives that inspire it.