“Playing a father is of rare intensity”
In your new film, you play Jay, a father who has been deprived of his daughter for nine years. How was this project born?
In 2018, I went to Japan with director Guillaume Senez to support the release of Our battles (in which Romain Duris already plays the role of a father, Editor’s note) . During this trip, we met a Frenchman who had been struggling for years to see his child again, following a separation. His story shocked us.
We then discovered that his case corresponded to a real social phenomenon in Japan. (read box at end of article). The seed of the storyline was planted. Guillaume transformed it into a fiction telling a universal story: that of a man seeking to recreate a bond of paternity with his child.
After Our battles, Guillaume Senez offers you the role of father for the second time…
Playing a dad on screen is incredibly intense! And Guillaume understood this well. The scenes with Lily, my “daughter” played by Mei Cirne-Masuki, were shot according to the timeline of the script, so that our relationship developed in almost real time.
Working on these filial relationships is exciting and allows you to express an infinite number of emotions and feelings. I feel like I can never be smooth or empty in such a role. In The animal kingdom for example (film awarded five Césars in 2024), I loved playing François, forced to accept that Émile, his teenage son, is taking flight. Father roles arouse a very rich imagination which fills me as a performer.
Where do you get your inspiration?
The movie Keaneby Lodge Kerrigan (2005), inspires me enormously. Its starting point is the disappearance of a 6-year-old girl. Damaged and injured, the character of his father, played by Damian Lewis, is very moving. The camera follows the actions of this feverish man as closely as possible. It’s the director Patrice Chéreau, with whom I worked in the cinema in Persecution (2009) and on stage in The night just before the forests (2010), which introduced me to this work.
Since the trilogy of The Spanish Inn, by Cédric Klapisch, launched in 2002, we call you an actor “ generational »because you embody modern men, assuming their share of fragility. Are you aware of this?
It’s true that I never pretended to be strong (smile). Some spectators also tell me that I am a bit like a companion who makes them think about the evolution of couples, families and masculinity. I think it’s great! It touches me to be so associated with my roles. The seven Klapisch films in which I appeared undoubtedly had a lot to do with it. In life, I’m a guy who lives with the times. The public certainly feels it.
Did you know Japan before this shoot?
I have been a big fan of Japan for a very long time. I have always been attracted to the world of this country, perhaps because I discovered Kurosawa’s films during my childhood and, later, those of Ozu and Mizoguchi. And I like the graphic side of the city of Tokyo. The inscriptions in the streets and on storefronts always make me dream. I also learned Japanese calligraphy as an adult, because this beautiful ink and brush work fascinates me.
This taste matches your practice of drawing which led you to join an applied arts school, just after the baccalaureate…
In fact, before turning in The young peril (1994), I wanted to make children’s books. Alain Le Saux, a great author of children’s albums in the 1980s, then took me under his wing as an apprentice. And even though I ended up becoming an actor, I always continued drawing. I am currently working on an exhibition and a third book. This art soothes me and allows me to find balance after filming.
What beauty are you sensitive to?
The beauty of certain trees moves me deeply. In the middle of nature, I am able to contemplate them for a long time. I also like walking in Paris, my beloved city. Its splendor sometimes emerges from certain details, such as these magnificent doors which we sometimes pass too quickly. Beauty is a state of receptivity to the world. It is everywhere and resides in our ability to see it and even receive it.
Custody rights in Japan: towards joint parental authority in 2026
Every year in Japan, 150,000 children are separated from one of their two parents, according to the NGO Kizuna Child-Parent Reunion. In the event of separation, Japanese justice only recognizes sole custody, without compulsory visitation rights.
This custody right almost always goes to the person with whom the children reside at the time of the divorce (the mother in 86% of cases). Without shared custody or visiting rights, many parents – whatever their nationality – find themselves, in fact, completely separated from their children until they reach the age of majority.
In recent months, the situation seems to be changing. On May 17, 2024, the Japanese parliament voted to amend the Civil Code establishing possible joint parental authority in the event of divorce. A reform which should come into force in 2026.