“My darling, the companions are giving you a makeover. » This is what I said at Notre-Dame this very morning, while walking on the banks of the Seine where I have lived for more than thirty years. I found her very dapper, with her new arrow pointing towards the sky, made up by the autumn light like an actress for a shoot.
Notre-Dame, I address it informally, as we say “tu” to each other in the theater or on film sets, giving this affectionate nickname to leading roles. Because Paris Cathedral is my star. She’s the lead in my movie Notre Dame is burning even though firefighters are my heroes. I fell in love very young for this Stone Lady and, shortly after the fire of April 2019, for those who rescued her. I would not have made this film or recreated this memorable night in the same way if I had not been moved by these young girls and boys who saved her. They encounter absolute danger, witness abominable tragedies, risk everything on a daily basis for others, and return home without saying anything about their actions.
“Why volunteer to rush into the furnace of a burning belfry, empty of any human presence? » I asked them. Their response was: “What are our lives compared to the stones of Notre-Dame? » In this world of selfishness and fury, a small family of supportive companions was ready to do anything to preserve a spiritual treasure carrying our humanity. Since their feat, I can no longer look at these Gothic towers without thinking of their bravery.
Long before anyone was able to see my film, General Gontier, then commander of the Paris Fire Brigade, elevated me to the rank of honorary first class firefighter, number 105 375 bis. An honor indeed in the illuminated decor of the Invalides: “On certain points, you and I do the same job, the general said to me. When you recreate a shooting in a studio, with 500 technicians on set, you risk a lot in terms of safety. The scene couldn’t be filmed without all these skills combined and the mutual trust between you. » Fire is a fascinating, beautiful and dangerous actor. It charms us, warms us, lights us in the night, but can char us and reduce us to ashes. In The name of the roseI had already filmed the terrible fire of a medieval library.
-As a kid, when I left my suburbs to explore the capital on Thursdays with my mother, the cathedral was the first silhouette that appeared to me when emerging from the train, at Pont-Saint-Michel station. She embodied Paris. Sometimes my mother let me light a candle there. The vaults echoed at the time of Bach’s toccatas repeated by Pierre Cochereau, the famous principal of the Great Organs. I smelled the incense. The sun’s rays passed through the rose windows and drew fleeting spots of color on the walls. Strangers were praying. I was penetrated by the contemplation of the place.
Gothic masterpieces or modest Romanesque chapels, I have always found myself at peace there. I feel there something larger than material life. I’m not a believer. But I have faith in faith. Then my mother and I went up the towers and joined the gallery of chimeras. One of my very first photographs was the Stryge of Notre-Dame, the famous and fabulous stone monster which adorns the balustrade of its north tower and pensively scans the roofs.
Years later, the late Umberto Eco, whom I had brought to the screen The name of the rose said to me: “Your dream, Jean-Jacques, would be to tell in the cinema the story of a stone that would make the world cry. » I thought about this mischief during the filming of Notre Dame is burning . On December 8, my beautiful actress will be returned to us in all her sumptuousness. I will say to her quietly: “You are beautiful, darling, stay that way forever.”
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