Dinner with L’île à midi

An interview with Philippe Prouff, director of L’île à midi

 Did you do research into the profession of steward and the work conditions before filming The Island at Noon?

Absolutely. As for all my films, I do an enormous amount of research. Even though I’m not making documentaries, it is important to me that my fictional work is as realistic as possible. I believe it is essential as a viewer to avoid any implausibility which would disconnect me from the story that is being told. I contacted a steward who gave me lots of details about the habits of ship personnel, their way of life and their interactions with the passengers. He also re-read the script before shooting to point out any possible inconsistencies and to suggest changes in the dialog to make it even more believable.

 Are you a seasoned traveler? Do you like to travel? Do you think travel is as much an internal journey as a journey towards elsewhere?

I am a big traveler. I have been to several continents, usually to remote, difficult to reach places in order to find solitude or just a sense of calm conducive to reflection and writing. These places feed my imagination and sometimes even become the settings of my fictional work. It is evidently as much an internal journey as much as a journey towards elsewhere, as it is often the experience of a human or geographical adventure that allows me to move towards my fiction.

 And why the airplane? Do you see it as a simple means of transportation or as a technological advance unique in its kind?

In this case, I simply used the means of transportation referred to by Julio Cortazar in the short story that inspired the film.

 In The Island at Noon, your female characters all seem to be interested in the main character who, on the contrary, gives them very little attention except to satisfy his own desires. Are you referring to the theme of contemporary emotional detachment, or is this this simply a secondary consequence of his attachment to Xiros?

The two feelings are closely linked. The main character (whose name is Marini even though he never voluntarily gives his name in the film) becomes increasingly obsessed with Xiros, all while becoming totally insensitive to the people surrounding him. Marini represents a handsome man without a soul, lost in a profession where he mechanically reproduces artificial smiles. Handicapped by good looks, which is enough in itself to attract others, he is and indeed feels empty. The island becomes a way to fill this void and it is precisely this idea of solitude and of personal fulfillment through escape that I wanted to address and which seems to be current.

 Do you use social networks? Are the main character’s relationships comparable to the use of the Internet, for he doesn’t seem to have an online account where virtual friends can follow his daily life?

I don’t use social networks except for professional websites where I present my work. It didn’t come to mind during the writing of this story, without a doubt because the use of social networks can often paradoxically indicate great loneliness, yet it requires nonetheless an effort to express one’s self that Marini is not able to provide.

 I saw several meanings of noon which resonated within the film. Among them, noon is a time which marks the end of a cycle, the morning, and begins another, the afternoon. This notion of cycles and repetition, is it a theme that you are generally fond of?

In this particular case, noon is above all the time where the sun is at its highest, and even though it was Cortazar who had chosen this time before me, I wanted to exploit this particular position of the sun as a dramatic resource in my story, especially in the final scenes where Marini’s image blends into the rays of light. The notions of cycles and repetition are indeed very important in my work. This is why I have intentionally made the temporality of the story vague by placing here and there scenes which may lead to the questioning of the story’s chronology. Elsewhere, I have dealt with the theme of cycles in a frontal manner in a previous film, Waster, which was inspired by the myth of Sisyphus.

 Have you traveled through the islands and do you have a particular fondness for this environment? As a director, what aspect of the islands do you find the most interesting: the limitation of the conditions of life as it relates to isolation, the social principle of the micro-community, or the feeling of suspension in time?

I am very fond of the islands since spending my childhood on one. And I’ve traveled to several others, preferring the less touristic ones, from the Aran Islands of Ireland to the Faroe Islands, via a speck in the Atlantic Ocean called Tristan da Cunha, which is only accessible by cargo ship and gave me inspiration for another script. Thanks to these travels, I’ve experienced the fascination and the magnetic appeal that only an island can produce through the isolation it offers. Gilles Deleuze wrote what I consider to be one of the best analyses of the island: “To dream of the islands is to dream of starting from scratch, recreating, beginning anew.”

 The Island at Noon is a French film. In your opinion, what does French short film production offer that the others don’t?

A variety of financial sources that make ambitious projects like The Island at Noon possible, the participation of national TV stations in the production process, and a regional network that allows short film to come alive on a regional level.

Programme for viewing The Island at Noon: National Competition F3.

More info

The film will be shown in the Libre Court programme on France 3 on Friday, 6 February, at 12:35 AM.

Philippe Prouff has been invited on Les carnets de la creation on France Culture on 4 February at 8:55 PM.