02 · 20 · 26

Filmmaking without fear: Robin Campillo and the legacy of Laurent Cantet at ENZO

Alonso Díaz de la Vega

The death of director Laurent Cantet left a void in contemporary French cinema: with him went the perspective of an important chronicler of youth who left his mark, above all, with The Class (Entre les murs, 2008). In that film, Cantet observed, without moralizing—in a style close to documentary—the dynamics in a public school: the teachers are overwhelmed, but so are the students; the system does not work, but it is sustained and undermined, in equal measure, by individuals.

Cantet's loss also means an absence for director and screenwriter Robin Campillo, who collaborated with his friend on numerous projects as a co-writer, including The Class. Campillo has had a successful career of his own, including 120 Beats per Minute (120 battements par minute, 2017), a story about AIDS activism in 1990s Paris that competed for the Palme d'Or at Cannes and won the Grand Jury Prize.

When his friend Laurent Cantet died just before the production of his latest project, Enzo (2025), Campillo decided to finish it, which is why the credits read: “A film by Laurent Cantet directed by Robin Campillo.” There was no way to direct like Cantet, so Campillo, drawing on his own instincts and poetics, narrates what would have been his friend's film. Enzo is, then, an examination of contemporary youth through the eponymous protagonist, played by newcomer Eloy Pohu, who seems to feel uncomfortable as a wealthy teenager and decides to work in a construction company, but also clashes with the working class world. The friendship of a colleague named Vlad (also a newcomer, Maksym Slivinskyi), a Ukrainian immigrant called to the front lines of the war against Russia, will open up new concerns for Enzo, creating tensions and discoveries in his seemingly simple life. The full interview, edited for clarity, can be read below.

FICM: I wanted to start by talking about the opening credits sequence. It says a lot about the film and its production. We are told that this is a film by Laurent Cantet directed by Robin Campillo. Tell me a little about the fact that this is Campillo's last film and how you got involved in directing it.

Robin Campillo: Yes, in fact, it really is a project by Laurent Cantet that I ended up doing. And in fact, two years ago, Laurent had been working on a script with another screenwriter, Gilles Marchand, who is also a friend of mine. And he had written a few pages. And in the end, he was a little disappointed and wasn't sure he wanted to make this film anymore. So he asked me to read the pages. And I did; I was very enthusiastic. I really found it to be extraordinary material. And it was at the same time that Laurent found out he had cancer. So I offered to do what I had done before, which was to be there for the script and the editing. I would also be there for the preparation of the film and the shooting, especially if he was tired from the treatments, etc. That way, I could do the rehearsals with the actors, actresses, and technicians. And so Laurent worked hard, began the preparation; in fact, he started casting, found four of the main actors, but unfortunately... a week later he became very ill. He went to the hospital and died that night.

I was still able to discuss some ideas with him in his hospital room. At first he wasn't sure and asked me to stop so that I could make my own film. I told him that I had wanted to make the film, not to worry, and his wife told him that she wanted to see the film. And so, two days later, I began meetings with the technicians, actors, and actresses. And that's how it all started. But obviously, it's not my project. When I was at the hospital, I told him I would make the film as best I could. Because I don't know how to make a film like Laurent Cantet. I only know how to make a film my way. When you're a director, you always imagine that it's the film itself that dictates the rules. And we do nothing more than respond to the rules of cinema. Obviously, it's an illusion: you're the one who makes the decisions, but, anyway, I can say that it was a fairly light shoot. And quite cheerful. And I thought I really did well to do the project.

FICM: Thinking about the work you've done on your own and the work you've done with Laurent, it seems to me that there are certain similarities between your films. One of them is youth. It seems to me that you're both very interested in it.

RC: I think Laurent was more interested in childhood than I was. My main characters are often adults, but it's true that I have children's points of view. However, I get the impression that Laurent felt he had failed a little in his adolescence. He felt that he hadn't been free enough as a teenager, that he had been quite serious. And there was a void that compelled him to make films about adolescence. He was also fascinated by today's youth, especially in France, and above all by the freedom of this youth: sexual fluidity, for example. It's something that touched him deeply and that he found very liberating.

FICM: I think there is also an interest in the collective. Although most of Enzo shows the protagonist alone, there are also scenes that remind me, for example, of Entre les murs, such as when he is at work with the other laborers.

RC: Yes, I think it was something that really interested Laurent, and me too, namely: the relationship between the individual and the collective, and the problems that this raises. Because there is the impression that one does not necessarily find one's place in a collective, and that is something that we both feel very strongly about. And it is true that in Enzo there is a story of someone who does not quite feel at home where he is. He doesn't seem to believe that he belongs to his own class, his family's class. And it's true that when we started working, we said to ourselves that it was important to show a boy who doesn't belong in his own family, because in reality, the family is the most random social unit in society. Because who chooses their parents? And we are forced to live with them for at least 18 years. So it's a crazy contract. And so we worked mainly on this inversion of a class defector: a boy from a bourgeois family who decides to escape the bourgeoisie and wants to face reality... the reality of physical labor, and also the violence of war. That's what interested us: a boy who tries to escape the bourgeoisie because he knows that the bourgeoisie is a kind of illusion. Especially in our time, considering the state of the world, the war that is not far from Europe, in Ukraine. These are threats that had not happened in several years and have become very strong.

FICM: I think Enzo is a bit like Werther: he's a romantic, and that's kind of his tragedy.

RC: It's true that when we think of this film, we think of these portraits of young people from the 19th century. In much of French literature. It's true that he's a very idealistic character. There's a bit of Lord Byron in that impression that he must save something in order to save himself. It's really a very romantic and very anachronistic view in our time. I have the impression that, especially in France—you can't speak for all countries—we ask young people to know exactly what they want to do. There is a system called Parcoursup where young people, from the time they are in high school, must decide everything they want to do with their lives. It's a straight-line maze! And alongside that is the chaos of the world. There is Ukraine, there is Gaza. International law is completely violated. Our societies convince themselves that they live in a certain reality, but in fact, that's not true; everything is collapsing. Western morality is bankrupt. And this child doesn't have the political awareness to resist, hence his desire to escape the bourgeois world.

FICM: Going back to something you mentioned earlier about the realism of the film, Maksym Slivinskyi is very similar to his character. He was also a worker. So tell me a little bit about this casting.

RC: Well, I don't think the film is realistic. I think it's a film that's, on the contrary, very stylized, very simple, very sober in its making. With Laurent, we wanted to make a film that was full of light, that was like a Greek temple. So the characters may be a little naturalistic, but in fact, for me, the film isn't really. It's true that by choosing the actors so well, as is the case with Maksym, who plays Vlad, it's not just that they're realistic, but also that they're like fictional characters. Like characters in a novel. And it's true that we were thrilled when we found Maksym. It was very funny because he came to the office, he speaks very poor French, but he had nothing to do; he talked and talked because he wanted so much to do the film. And he wanted so much to represent who he was that it was moving.

The first few times we worked together, we did improvisations. Maksym taught Eloy Pohu, who plays Enzo, how to paint a wall and that kind of thing. And in an attempt to work on all these realistic things, we tried to refine them, simplify them as much as possible. So this work is also a work of realism. It's like trying to achieve a perfect drawing, and these two actors allowed us to achieve that because they did something very realistic and at the same time there is a kind of very strong romanticism. Maksym Slivinskyi is a very powerful actor. He is a man who is only 24 years old. But we feel that he has led a very complicated life. Finding his place in French society has not been easy. And I didn't have to invent anything when I was shooting the film because it was all there in him.

FICM: I thought the film had a very clear perspective on what it was saying, but at the same time, it wasn't didactic; it didn't tell you what to think. Could we call this your and Laurent Cantet's ethical approach to filmmaking?

RC: Yes, yes, yes! Laurent always had Rossellini's phrase in mind: “Why manipulate things when they already exist?” And it's true that in films, we've always been afraid to put phrases in the dialogue that we might find in a production note. We never considered the viewer to be a child who needed to be taken by the hand and have everything explained to them. And in this film, even more than in all the others—or even in my films—we decided to make a film that was very simple, very clear. But, on the other hand, in the midst of this clarity, we wanted there to be a lot of ambiguity, a lot of things we couldn't decide. For example, we were interested in the paradox of the father. Because the father wants to be benevolent, but in reality he is totally intrusive and always in control. And so his benevolence turns into control. We can tell ourselves when we see him that he is nice. He does household chores considered feminine: he picks up dirty clothes, he cooks, and so on. But in reality, this helps him enter his son's room to watch over him when he comes to pick up the dirty clothes. So, in fact, it's all these ambiguities that interested us. But even if he tries to manipulate his son, I think he's right to think that his son is afraid, for example. But what he doesn't understand is that his son's response to fear is to throw himself into facing reality, facing violence, rather than staying in his corner and in the illusion of bourgeois comfort. It's a simple film, but it's not a poor film. It's a film that is very clear about its ambiguities and paradoxes.

FICM: I think that says it all. And, well, my last question: after so many years doing so much work with Laurent Cantet, what's next for you?

RC: The strange thing is that I'm really... a bit like a child when it comes to death. When I was young, I was very afraid of dying because of the AIDS epidemic. And I witnessed the deaths of many friends when we were young. And deep down, I think I have a problem with empathy. It's not that I'm not empathetic, but I find it hard to cry... I cope well. I don't know if that's right or wrong, but it's the reality. And I have the impression, like a child, that Laurent is just off-screen. And that he's waiting for me anyway, or something like that. And what helps me is, at the same time, my daughter. And also the fact that I have other projects. And interestingly, with this film—what I found very beautiful—is that I'm usually very anxious about the idea of ​​making a film. And here, I was forced to throw myself immediately into filming. And I find it less agonizing than my previous films. And I said to myself, “You have to make films with a certain recklessness. And you have to start, you can’t be afraid of the film. You have to start and work. Don’t stop rethinking the film, because at least we rethink it during filming, we rethink it during editing, we rethink it all the time. But if we’re honest in this work… there’s no reason to be afraid.” And it’s as if Laurent gave me a gift. He gave me the gift of time, that is, as if he suddenly used me. I’m no longer afraid to write quickly. And to start the preparation and the film. And then I have the impression that he’s brought me something very positive. And I cling to this feeling of positivity.