Denis Lavant

Denis Lavant

A vein bulges in the arm of Galoup, sergeant of the Foreign Legion in Africa, while he makes his bed with habitual precision, stretches the sheets, and puts things in order, but not before preparing his weapon. That fibrous, bulging vein, light but intense, takes us to the smallest place from which Denis Levant expresses himself: his blood. And from there to his veins, to his muscles, to him. His body, and the experience of it, is one of the gifts given to us by the French actor, starting with his debut in Boy Meets Girl, where he played Alex, a sort of alter ego to director Leos Carax.

For Lavant, the body, that final frontier, is a mark, a place, and a destination. From Carax*@@*s Alex, to Korine*@@*s Chaplin, to Kim Ki-duk*@@*s Emile or the Tsai Ming-Liang*@@*s passerby. The skin is the language of Lavant, who has worked with directors without dominating their voices, maybe without saying a single word, because the skin and its disturbing gaze are capable of communicating the most diverse states and feelings. With Anton in Tuvalu, he seemed to have found a piece that defines him: the guardian of a tradition that is currently imploding. He*@@*s there, up, down. There. Lavant*@@*s time is a present that contains all possible times.

Neither his characters, nor him, nor his directors have been afraid of disorder, not just in their stories, but in themselves. Holy Motors, without a doubt, is a movie that condenses Lavant*@@*s thespian presence and his relevance to film. Monsieur Oscar changes, transmutes during each of his appointments, which he carries out flawlessly just for the @**@beauty of acting@**@. It is the body, as a stable and mutable center of representation, that drives, not just the actor, but the film itself. One lone truth left by this film, in an era where artifice is part of reality: the presence of a body, the presence of an actor, is the thing that remains stable in an image.

Inspiring and indelible, this essential actor, emotive and gifted with enormous technical skills that he has taken from slapstick comedy, acrobatics, dance, or street art, is characterized by a careful rigor when choosing his parts, which he lives so intensely because that is the only way for them to penetrate us so strongly. Like every great artist, nothing that is human is foreign to Denis Lavant, and thanks to his generosity he has broadened within us the limits of tenderness, desire, mistery, and especially beauty.

The tribute to Lavant and his presence in Cartagena is possible thanks to the support of the France-Colombia Year 2017, the French Embassy, the Institut Fran├žais and Unifrance.