What happens when two of Europe’s most magnetic actresses sit down to trade stories about art, chaos, and lifelong friendship? The result is a candid, funny, and deeply revealing conversation that offers a masterclass in creative evolution.
Virginie Efira recently added an unexpected item to her resume: she learned Japanese. The skill came courtesy of working with acclaimed director Ryusuke Hamaguchi on his Paris-shot film All of a Sudden, which has just wrapped production. “I tried it out the other day — though apparently, I sound more Hungarian than Japanese!” she joked with a grin. The film, clocking in at an ambitious three hours, will reportedly feature what Efira calls “astonishing formal choices.” She explains that Hamaguchi’s process is far from typical: “We did countless table reads in a space where absolute focus was required. He asked me to imagine a stone in my stomach and channel everything into it. It made for an atmosphere unlike anything else.”
Efira shared these reflections during a two-hour talk at the Marrakech Film Festival alongside Chiara Mastroianni, another icon of European cinema. The discussion unfolded like an evening between old friends, filled with laughter, creative insights, and glimpses into what’s ahead. Efira heads back to Paris soon to complete Asghar Farhadi’s Parallel Tales, while Mastroianni will co-star with Melvil Poupaud in Nicolas Pariser’s A Bit Before Midnight.
Mastroianni laughed when speaking of Poupaud, her frequent co-star and childhood friend. “We’ve played every relationship possible—siblings, lovers, cousins. At this rate, he’ll be playing my son next year!” Their connection runs deep: Poupaud was the one who first encouraged her to step into acting, years before she became known as the daughter of cinema royalty—Marcello Mastroianni and Catherine Deneuve. “My mother wasn’t thrilled by the idea,” she admitted, “but my father loved it. It was tricky though. I wasn’t sure I even had the right to want it. Melvil helped me open that door.”
The two actresses began their journeys from very different worlds. Mastroianni emerged from high-art cinema, working with auteurs like Raúl Ruiz and Manoel de Oliveira before exploring more playful territory with Christophe Honoré. Efira’s story went the opposite way: she first became known as a Belgian TV host before winning audiences over in light comedies, eventually earning respect as a dramatic actress with Justine Triet’s In Bed with Victoria. “Justine thrives on chaos,” Efira said with affection. “Her set feels like her mind—alive, unpredictable, a little wild. It’s never oppressive, though. Everyone contributes. You follow the script, but everything still feels spontaneous. It’s like being both teacher and student at once.”
Mastroianni recalled the stark contrast of working with the late Manoel de Oliveira. “His direction was strict, almost mathematical,” she explained. “He saw us not as people but as shapes in a composition—like folds in a curtain. At the time, it felt like being trapped, but that discipline taught me how to focus and fall in love with stillness and long takes.” Some may recoil at such a rigid style, but Mastroianni insists it sharpened her artistry. Is total control ever a pathway to creative freedom? It’s a provocative question that splits opinion even among actors.
The pair eventually appeared together in Rebecca Zlotowski’s Other People’s Children, with Efira playing a stepmother and Mastroianni the biological mom. Both spoke warmly of Zlotowski’s sensitive approach to complex female relationships. “In real life, exes and new partners aren’t always at war,” Mastroianni noted. “Sometimes they share more solidarity than people expect. Rebecca understood that nuance.” Efira agreed, praising the director for her subtle view on feminism: “It’s not loud or slogan-driven. It’s personal, detailed, and quietly powerful.”
In a delightful twist, Zlotowski herself was sitting in the festival audience that day, enjoying the conversation from a few seats away. She had just premiered her own film, A Private Life, the night before and watched beaming as her collaborators reminisced on stage.
And here’s the part that might stir debate: Efira and Mastroianni’s portrait of cinematic collaboration challenges the usual myths about artistic ego and control. Some directors rule with iron precision; others thrive in chaos. But is one better than the other? Should filmmaking demand strict calculation or organic messiness? That’s the question they left hanging in the warm Marrakech air—one that still lingers long after the lights dimmed.
What do you think? Does true artistry come from discipline or disorder? Share your take in the comments—because this is where the real conversation begins.
