‘My heart is pounding': Elle Fanning on Cannes, red carpet routines and women in Hollywood
EXCLUSIVE: Whether she was wearing a powder-blue Chanel gown or a white T-shirt with the words 'Joachim Trier Summer' on it, Elle Fanning was the toast of the recent Cannes Film Festival.
Nevertheless, Fanning confesses that fronting the press at the Palais des Festivals for the premiere of her upcoming film Sentimental Value – and as an ambassador for L'Oréal Paris – was 'nerve-racking' in the best possible way.
'My heart is pounding,' Fanning tells Stellar, recalling the moment she stepped onto the red carpet.
'It's like I have so many butterflies because it's just so magical. [Cannes] is a special place for me, I've been here with many films, I've got to be on the Jury. There's no feeling quite like it on the giant carpet at the Palais.'
At 27 years old, Fanning is already a Hollywood veteran. She made her film debut at two in 2001's I Am Sam, playing the younger version of her actor sister Dakota Fanning's character.
After that came a string of roles.
There was Sofia Coppola's dreamy 2010 drama Somewhere, and Maleficent with Angelina Jolie in 2014. In 2017 she co-starred with Nicole Kidman in The Beguiled; and last year, she featured in the Oscar-nominated Bob Dylan biopic A Complete Unknown, opposite her close friend Timothée Chalamet as Dylan ('we had such a fun time', Fanning recalls).
She will work with Kidman again in the upcoming TV series, Margo's Got Money Troubles, and was recently cast to play the role of Effie Trinkey in Hunger Games prequel, Sunrise On The Reaping.
She was back in Cannes to promote the Joachim Trier-directed Sentimental Value, in which she fittingly portrays a young Hollywood star.
The movie – already earning raves as an early Oscars contender – won Cannes' coveted Grand Prix after receiving a reported 19-minute ovation.
Fanning says that working with the Danish-born Norwegian director was on her 'bucket list'. But like Kidman, who has famously vowed to work with a female director every 18 months, she is also keen to increase women's representation in Hollywood.
'There's so much more progress to be made,' she tells Stellar. 'But we're having these conversations and there are, hopefully, more opportunities being opened up for these talented female filmmakers.'
When asked how she feels about being a role model to young women herself, Fanning pauses to consider those who have inspired her.
'I have so many role models that have inspired me,' she says. 'I'm trying to learn from [them], and how they treated me, and try to kind of emulate that to younger girls that I work with.
'It's funny not being the youngest person on a film set now.
'I had a lot of people who were kind to me growing up and gave me advice. I just want to be that for people that I work with.
'It's so important for young women to have stories that are told from a woman's point of view.
'To show that you can express yourself and have the confidence to share your stories.'
Part of that confidence, Fanning says, comes from her ambassador role with L'Oréal Paris, whose slogan is famously 'because you're worth it'.
Musing on the sentiment, she says: 'It has nothing to do with stereotypical beauty as we see it. It really has to do with beauty from the inside, which comes from [having] the confidence to love yourself entirely and to treat yourself [with respect].
'We are worth it to feel our feelings. We're worth it to be messy. Especially as women, we have the power. It's such a strong message.'
While public appearances are now old hat for Fanning, she says it still takes her hours to get ready for events and premieres.
As Fanning points out, it's about more than just how she looks.
'It's a three-hour situation to get ready for a red carpet for me,' she says with a laugh.
'I get up, I have coffee, I have breakfast – I put a face mask on. I put ice over the face mask that I use to de-puff from jet lag and travelling. I have a [L'Oréal] Revitalift serum that I use for my skin.
'I also try to calm myself because I know it's going to be nerve-racking. It might be a stressful day, so [it's important to] just kind of have the morning to yourself – and get going.'
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Sydney Morning Herald
a day ago
- Sydney Morning Herald
This first-time actor won a French Oscar, then went back to fixing trucks
When Abou Sangare turned up at an open casting call for The Story of Souleymane, he just needed work. The 24-year-old had arrived in Paris from Guinea in 2017 and was finding it difficult to get a legal, on-the-books job. He had no dreams of stardom. But at this year's Cesars – the French Oscars – he won the prize for Best Male Revelation. Like the character he plays in the film, Sangare was an undocumented immigrant facing a bureaucratic nightmare in his search for work. In his words, it's like being in prison: 'You cannot work, you cannot just go out and enjoy yourself with your friends. Gathering documents and telling stories and being rejected, this is something I can really identify with.' While Souleymane prepares for the crucial interview that will decide if he's granted legal residency, he makes a precarious living as a courier for a company akin to UberEats, speeding through the city on his e-bike to complete his deliveries on time, while doing his best to steer clear of anyone who might ask to see his papers. He rarely gets a chance to catch his breath. Director Boris Lojkine, who started his film career in documentary, says it was important 'to build a thriller that doesn't take liberties with social reality'. The film is packed with action and suspense, yet what it shows isn't far from everyday experience for many people in cities around the world. Following its premiere at last year's Cannes Film Festival, the film had significant success in France. It was nominated for eight Cesars and won four. Some details from Sangare's own life were incorporated into the dialogue, particularly in the final scene. But the script was essentially complete before he came on board, the product of extensive research by Lojkine, who started as a philosophy teacher. 'I'm white, I'm not African, I'm not a delivery worker, it's not my life,' Lojkine says. 'It's very far from my life. So if you want to make a film on that kind of reality, you have to do it right.' That meant numerous lengthy interviews with delivery workers he approached on the streets of Paris, most of them undocumented immigrants like Souleymane, who effectively operate as subcontractors, using identities 'borrowed' from those with the right to work. The information they gave him forms the basis for what we see in the film: the tricks of the trade, the danger of being swindled, how the characters live, eat and sleep. 'Everything happens like it happens,' Lojkine says. 'It's always important for me that the people who are represented in the film think that the film is true – it's the most important thing.' In his eyes, the couriers he spoke to represent a particular modern condition, isolated both as migrants and as nominally self-employed entrepreneurs. 'There is no colleague, no boss, you're alone with your phone.' Souleymane's phone is his most precious possession, charged with a double significance. 'The phone is his relation to the world – it's his work tool, but it's also his connection to his family and his friends in Guinea. There is something very contemporary in it,' says Lojkine. He underlines that the film is not just concerned with asylum seekers or undocumented migrants, but with the plight of all those working in the 'gig economy'. 'It's not the problem of being undocumented, it's the problem of the status of these workers,' he says. 'If they're employees, then you have to give healthcare; if they have an accident, then you are responsible for them. 'But if they are independent, if they are self-employed, if they are freelancers, there is no social security for them. And this is a big fight, not only in France but worldwide.' How much difference can a film make to any of this? Lokjine insists, first and foremost, that The Story of Souleymane isn't a message movie, but an experience. 'I want the audience to be in Souleymane's shoes for two hours.' Loading But Sangare is in no doubt that films can change lives, and that this film in particular has done so. 'First, it has changed my life,' he says. 'Then, we have many people writing to us telling us that now they look differently at delivery people, that they realise that they are real people. 'There are even delivery people who told us that before ... they would knock on people's doors and they would just take their bag and leave, whereas now there are more and more people who stay for a minute and exchange words. There is a connection, a minimum connection, which I'm sure is due to the film.' Sangare says his involvement with cinema has been 'a very positive experience', but it's not one he's in a hurry to repeat. He always wanted to be a heavy truck mechanic and now has a job in a garage. Having obtained the necessary documents by working as an actor, he has pursued the job that was his main objective all along. While he would consider an interesting role if it came up, he won't spend his time seeking them out. 'I'll have someone else do it for me,' he jokes. For now, he feels he's done enough. Loading The Story of Souleymane opens in selected cinemas on June 26, with advance screenings June 20-22. Jake Wilson travelled to France courtesy of the Alliance Francaise.
The Age
a day ago
- The Age
This first-time actor won a French Oscar, then went back to fixing trucks
When Abou Sangare turned up at an open casting call for The Story of Souleymane, he just needed work. The 24-year-old had arrived in Paris from Guinea in 2017 and was finding it difficult to get a legal, on-the-books job. He had no dreams of stardom. But at this year's Cesars – the French Oscars – he won the prize for Best Male Revelation. Like the character he plays in the film, Sangare was an undocumented immigrant facing a bureaucratic nightmare in his search for work. In his words, it's like being in prison: 'You cannot work, you cannot just go out and enjoy yourself with your friends. Gathering documents and telling stories and being rejected, this is something I can really identify with.' While Souleymane prepares for the crucial interview that will decide if he's granted legal residency, he makes a precarious living as a courier for a company akin to UberEats, speeding through the city on his e-bike to complete his deliveries on time, while doing his best to steer clear of anyone who might ask to see his papers. He rarely gets a chance to catch his breath. Director Boris Lojkine, who started his film career in documentary, says it was important 'to build a thriller that doesn't take liberties with social reality'. The film is packed with action and suspense, yet what it shows isn't far from everyday experience for many people in cities around the world. Following its premiere at last year's Cannes Film Festival, the film had significant success in France. It was nominated for eight Cesars and won four. Some details from Sangare's own life were incorporated into the dialogue, particularly in the final scene. But the script was essentially complete before he came on board, the product of extensive research by Lojkine, who started as a philosophy teacher. 'I'm white, I'm not African, I'm not a delivery worker, it's not my life,' Lojkine says. 'It's very far from my life. So if you want to make a film on that kind of reality, you have to do it right.' That meant numerous lengthy interviews with delivery workers he approached on the streets of Paris, most of them undocumented immigrants like Souleymane, who effectively operate as subcontractors, using identities 'borrowed' from those with the right to work. The information they gave him forms the basis for what we see in the film: the tricks of the trade, the danger of being swindled, how the characters live, eat and sleep. 'Everything happens like it happens,' Lojkine says. 'It's always important for me that the people who are represented in the film think that the film is true – it's the most important thing.' In his eyes, the couriers he spoke to represent a particular modern condition, isolated both as migrants and as nominally self-employed entrepreneurs. 'There is no colleague, no boss, you're alone with your phone.' Souleymane's phone is his most precious possession, charged with a double significance. 'The phone is his relation to the world – it's his work tool, but it's also his connection to his family and his friends in Guinea. There is something very contemporary in it,' says Lojkine. He underlines that the film is not just concerned with asylum seekers or undocumented migrants, but with the plight of all those working in the 'gig economy'. 'It's not the problem of being undocumented, it's the problem of the status of these workers,' he says. 'If they're employees, then you have to give healthcare; if they have an accident, then you are responsible for them. 'But if they are independent, if they are self-employed, if they are freelancers, there is no social security for them. And this is a big fight, not only in France but worldwide.' How much difference can a film make to any of this? Lokjine insists, first and foremost, that The Story of Souleymane isn't a message movie, but an experience. 'I want the audience to be in Souleymane's shoes for two hours.' Loading But Sangare is in no doubt that films can change lives, and that this film in particular has done so. 'First, it has changed my life,' he says. 'Then, we have many people writing to us telling us that now they look differently at delivery people, that they realise that they are real people. 'There are even delivery people who told us that before ... they would knock on people's doors and they would just take their bag and leave, whereas now there are more and more people who stay for a minute and exchange words. There is a connection, a minimum connection, which I'm sure is due to the film.' Sangare says his involvement with cinema has been 'a very positive experience', but it's not one he's in a hurry to repeat. He always wanted to be a heavy truck mechanic and now has a job in a garage. Having obtained the necessary documents by working as an actor, he has pursued the job that was his main objective all along. While he would consider an interesting role if it came up, he won't spend his time seeking them out. 'I'll have someone else do it for me,' he jokes. For now, he feels he's done enough. Loading The Story of Souleymane opens in selected cinemas on June 26, with advance screenings June 20-22. Jake Wilson travelled to France courtesy of the Alliance Francaise.
ABC News
a day ago
- ABC News
How Josh Homme overcame a health crisis for Queens of the Stone Age's Alive in the Catacombs
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Released (fittingly) on Friday, the 13th of June, the project's inspiration came to Homme "on a day off in Paris around 18 or 19 years ago. I tried to go to the catacombs and the line was like three-and-a-half hours long. "So, it's got an even more entitled beginning," he jokes. "How can I skip the line!?" It took a lot of patience and "conversations over many years" with French authoroties to secure the necessary permissions, says Homme. "It's a shame the French don't have a word for bureaucracy," he deadpans. "[Also] they thought our intention was … to take advantage, maybe. But quickly, we were able to dispel that." With a little help from local producers to grease the wheels, QOTSA were able to convince the powers that be, becoming the first band to gain legal access to the catacombs. "But definitely not the first people to play there," Homme points out. From orchestral concerts in the late 1800s to rumoured underground raves, the Catacombs have a long music history. Cataphiles, the community of urban explorers who illegally tour the underground networks, even established a clandestine cinema. "The police went in [2004] and there was a movie projector and all these seats. Other times, there was a full dinner table. They'd go back the next day and it's all gone, a note saying: 'Don't try to find us.'" That long history is "part of the charm", Homme continues. "It's a very intense place to be." Rather than bring their signature heavy rock show, QOTSA radically reworked material from their back catalogue to suit the new setting. Pared-back versions of 'Kalopsia' and 'Suture Up Your Future' feature a small string section, acoustic guitars, chains for percussion, and an electric piano hooked up to a car battery. Homme imagined, "What if I was writing these songs now, again, for this space? The first time I ever went in there was the night before. So, we're walking with the director and sort of improvising and listening to what the Catacombs is telling you what you could do." Uncharacteristically tender for a band famed for its grit and swagger, the lean arrangements expose and underscore Homme's lyrics and the velvety croon that's seen the musician hailed as 'the ginger Elvis'. "I imagined it would be cathedral-like, with endless reverb. But the ceiling is dripping, the floor is gravel, and the air is thick with humidity," he explains. That haunting ambience leaked into the recordings, while stark lighting and performances augment the intimacy of the concert film. "I will say playing there felt like getting on our knees and putting your head down. It had a very religious connotation to it. We were there to respectfully do our best." Working with La Blogothèque, a Paris-based production company best-known for their intimate, cinéma-vérité-style Take Away Shows, QOTSA shot each song in just a few takes. "There were more than a few times where it felt, 'Yeah, OK … we're not doing it again,'" remarks Homme. "There's no edits or fixing. It is what it is, playing down there and that's it. "We could've done eight [songs] but were just like, 'No, man, never leave them wanting less. It's OK to stop.'" The feeling, Homme believes for him and the millions of spirits listening along, was satisfaction. "You're talking about an audience that doesn't get a lot of performances," he adds with a smirk. Adding a layer of unexpected significance was the fact Homme felt like he was at death's door during filming. "My temperature was not the same as everyone else's," he confesses. "So, my experience was much different." That's an understatement. Homme was battling mounting illness related to surgery for his 2022 cancer diagnosis. In the lead-up to the Catacombs shoot on July 8, 2024, QOTSA cancelled several European tour dates for Homme to undergo emergency treatment in Venice. "I'd been asked to stop playing for days by then, and I knew the tour was over," he admits. But despite doctor's orders, he wasn't going to let a health crisis ruin a passion project decades in the making. "I just wanted it so bad, you know? … I broke out of the emergency room. "I went, 'Where's the rest room?' And I was in my gown, I grabbed the rest of my shit [and] I split." Homme's travel agent was waiting at the back door with a getaway car and a rational question. "She was like, 'Why are you doing this?!' "Because you never get the chance to show what you're really made of. I revel in [and] romanticise these moments. It felt like: 'You're here, so what are you going to do? Are you going to do it or not?'" Homme soldiered on through the Catacombs shoot while battling a 40°C fever. Peak rock'n'roll behaviour? Or purely irresponsible? Either way, Homme is clearly a man who lives by the words he sings in 'Suture Up Your Future': "I don't care if it hurts/Just so long as it's real.' The day after the catacombs, "I was on an emergency flight. I was in surgery within three hours of landing." Queens of the Stone Age ended up cancelling the remainder of their 2024 shows. The cover of Alive at the Catacombs is lifted from the film's opening shot of Homme lying dead still on an altar before rising for opening track 'Running Joke/Paper Machete'. The sequence was a matter of necessity as much as artistry. "It was more out of mere exhaustion," explains Homme, who just needed somewhere to lie down. He remembers director Thomas Rames exclaiming, "Don't move!" "And I was like, 'Good because I can't,'" he chuckles. The frontman upgraded to resting on a cot between takes. When the crew broke for lunch, Homme was unable to face the claustrophobic spiral staircase back up to the surface and instead lay down and took advantage of the deathly quiet. "I thought, 'If there was ever a moment to be haunted, this is that moment,'" he remembers. "In all honesty, I felt so held close, held fast. It felt like, 'Don't just play here. Stay here.' And I slept like a baby." His cot situated out of sight in a poorly lit hallway, Homme rose upon hearing "two young French interns … crunching on the gravel, speaking in French. "I just sat up and said, 'What time is it?' They both went: 'Arrrggghhh!' I was like, 'Pardon mois!'" Alive at the Catacombs takes pride of place on a bucket list that includes starting a supergroup with Dave Grohl and Led Zeppelin's John Paul Jones, and his idol Iggy Pop for 2016 album Post Pop Depression. "It was always a dream to do this. For now, I'm just going to sit in the proverbial Jacuzzi of this and just bubble. I'm not going to look forward right now, I'm just going to look straight down."
