Michel Houellebecq — Open letter to Stefan Ruitenbeek

Sir,

As it happens, after my brief stay in Amsterdam I spent three weeks in Guadeloupe filming a movie by Guillaume Nicloux, starring, among others, Blanche Gardin and myself.

I mention this because Guillaume Nicloux’s working methods might at first glance be compared to yours — more so, at any rate, than those of the other directors with whom I have had the opportunity to work.

For one thing, he makes a point of shooting scenes strictly in the order of the screenplay, so that he can take account of changes that may occur in the characters, and especially in their relationships. He thus does not rule out changing a scene in light of scenes already shot. It is important to note, however, that he consults the actors about the changes he wishes to make.

For another, and this is one of his great distinguishing features, the dialogue is sometimes improvised, or rather “semi-improvised”: its general subject is fixed, but the actors are free to choose their own words. This is particularly true of The Kidnapping of Michel Houellebecq, whose initial screenplay can scarcely have exceeded twenty pages.

There is, however, an essential difference between your ways of doing things.

The difference is, first of all, simply a matter of courtesy. To return to my stay in Amsterdam, I was irritated from the very first seconds, as soon as I set foot in the station, to discover that a member of your team had begun filming my wife and me without asking our permission, without even speaking to us. My first reaction at that moment should have been to seize the camera and throw it into the first canal I came across. I am rather gentle by nature, and I restrained myself to prevent everything from deteriorating immediately. But my irritation grew each time you and your team entered my hotel room, camera in hand, already filming. On other occasions, particularly during meals, we were even filmed without our knowledge. These methods belong more to gutter journalism than to auteur cinema. During a subsequent argument, given the deterioration of the situation, I undertook to reimburse you for the hotel room, which I did. Besides, I had bought my train tickets, paid for my meals there, and you own your filming equipment. Things continued to worsen until, one evening, I ordered you to leave my room with your cameras. We have not seen each other since.

There is another difference, which concerns aesthetics. When a “normal” film is being shot, there is a whole ritual that begins with costumes and makeup. Once the technical crew is ready, the shooting of each take is enclosed within a quite specific span of time, punctuated by precise commands: “Roll camera”, “Action”, “Cut”. All this may strike you as ridiculous or outdated. I do not share that view. For me, this ritual considerably helps the actor, who is trying to attain a sufficient level of concentration to enter the character he has chosen to portray. It is largely thanks to this that cinema — and theatre, through other rituals — can be considered an art.

You will object that your method is entirely different, that your aim is to capture fragments of reality which you will subsequently arrange into a meaningful continuity. The only answer I can give is that, I must acknowledge, our conceptions of artistic work are radically opposed. Having experienced your working methods, I have become convinced that the result will be mediocre and that, as an actor, I shall have no reason to be pleased with it.

But above all, beyond the question of my credibility as an actor, this opposition gives rise to an even more fundamental one: our radically divergent conceptions of loyalty, courtesy and respect for others. My mistake was not to react immediately, even though I sensed it. Today I am paying for that through the violent blast of your “trailer”, which irreparably damages my private life and my honour, but above all, more seriously still, my wife, who is devastated by the lies you are spreading about her. I formally object to the use in your films, this one or any future film, of the shots in which I appear, as well as those in which she is mentioned or shown.

Michel HOUELLEBECQ