Director François Ozon: 'In France, we consider cinema as an art. I'm not sure in England it's the same'

François Ozon, 58, is the French film director with the French movie star looks whose impressive output has amounted to almost a film a year since his 1998 feature debut, the surrealist family-life satire Sitcom. Ozon became father to a son four years ago but at work he remains as productive as ever: the afternoon we meet finds him at the London offices of Curzon film distributors, with a translator he doesn’t really need, ready to discuss his latest film, The Stranger. 

It is an ambitious, lusciously monochrome adaptation of the 1942 Albert Camus novel L’Étranger (usually published in English as The Outsider and a popular fixture on the A-level syllabus in the UK), which tells the story of Meursault (Benjamin Voisin), an alienated and emotionally detached settler in French-colonised Algeria who kills an unnamed Arab man a few weeks after his own mother’s funeral. L’Étranger is a classic of both French literature and existentialist philosophy, which many consider to be essentially unfilmable. But then, Ozon is a man who likes a challenge. 

That might explain why he cast French cinema’s grande dame, Catherine Deneuve, as the lead in 2010 retro comedy Potiche, even after their big falling-out on the set of the 2002 jukebox musical 8 Women (she repeatedly described him in the press as “a director who likes actresses, but not women”; he claimed to have resisted her attempts to “mother” him). 

It certainly explains why his 25 feature films – not counting the numerous shorts and docs – roam around the genre landscape, never settling anywhere for long. He’s done gender-flipped remakes of German arthouse (2022’s Peter von Kant), coming-of-age romance (2020’s Summer of ’85) and a psychological thriller (2003’s Swimming Pool with Charlotte Rampling and Ludivine Sagnier). He even made one film in Britain – 2007’s costume drama Angel, starring Romola Garai as an Edwardian-era fantasist – though he seems in no hurry to repeat that experience: “Y’know, in France, we consider cinema as an art,” he says. “I'm not sure in England it's the same.”

For now, François Ozon is happiest at home, in Paris, the bustling, vivacious city of his birth: “Sometimes I dream of being like Robinson Crusoe on the desert island. Only I would be afraid to be alone.”

Why did you want to adapt Albert Camus’s classic 1942 novel at this time?

If you’d asked me this question three years ago, I’d have said, “Never! I will never do that!" because in France it’s a masterpiece; everybody read the book at school. I have adapted books before, but usually books nobody knew and very often the author was already dead, which is always easier. 

Actually, I had another project, with [The Stranger star] Benjamin Voisin. That was the story of a young man of today who commits suicide because of the absurdity of life, but we didn't find the money to finance the film. Some friends said it reminded them of L'Étranger. So I decided to re-read the book and I found it powerful, strong and mysterious. I realised it could be exciting to adapt. I was afraid, of course, but I was excited.

Do you feel the book’s themes have parallels in contemporary France? 

Yes, for me that was obvious when I read the book again. I was so shocked by the invisibility of the Arabs and I needed to understand why it worked like this; why “The Arab” had no name [in the book]. I read all the controversy – coming from America, especially – about the colonialism of the novel, and it's totally a mistake. I think Camus was aware of the situation: that the two communities lived in parallel, and there was a kind of tension. Camus didn't need to develop that in the book, because it was the reality of the French [in 1942]; you know Algeria was France, but for the audience of today, there is a kind of taboo about colonial history. We know it happened, but we don't know all the details. It’s still, er… c'est toujours brûlant [a hot topic].

So I had to put that [the colonial setting] in the film, to show that Camus was not racist. It was not a book against colonialism, but it was a book within the context of colonialism. But I can understand the misunderstandings, because it is shocking. I was shocked too. That's why I decided to start the film with this line: “I killed an Arab”. Y’know, it's what Robert Smith [of The Cure] did with his song Killing an Arab. He had maybe the same point of view as me! 

What's the thing that annoys you most at the moment?

Donald Trump. I don't understand how this man can rule the most powerful country in the world. It's an absurdity, y’know? It's the absurdity of Camus, that he describes in his books. How is it possible that this man is totally disconnected from reality? I hope it’s the kind of absurdity that will inspire my work, but it will depend on what happens in the next years. I think what Paul Thomas Anderson made [the 2025 film One Battle After Another] was good; a premonition, maybe. But I do think art is a good way to answer [Trump].

Nature or nurture?

With regard to Meursault [in The Stranger], I would say nurture. I would say culture. In society we are always pretending, but he's not pretending. He's not pretending to be in love, because he's not. Y’know, he's condemned not for having killed an Arab, but for failing to cry at his mother’s funeral. So it’s the absurdity of the colonialist world and I think we’re all playing a part. But sometimes people decide not to play the game of the society. It's dangerous for him and for the society too. That's why the book is so subversive, because Meursault is a murderer, but at the same time, he is close to truth, and to be close to truth is dangerous.

What would you say to somebody who's struggling to feel optimistic right now?

It's the only way to survive. If you are not a little bit optimistic, it's better to kill yourself. [Laughs]. I don't have time for regrets, there are so many problems today. Maybe at the end of my life – which I hope won't be tomorrow – I'll have time. Of course, you must have some regrets at the end of your life. But for the moment, I don't have time to think about that. 

Can you name a piece of art that's inspired you recently?

I saw a small English movie, Pillion, with Alexander Skarsgård and the other actor [Harry Melling]. I didn't know him, but he’s amazing, with a strange face. I found the film very disturbing, but very powerful. It starts with a very specific, sadomasochist relationship, and at the end, it's a story of a couple. I think there is something universal in it. It’s about how do you accept the other? And what is the contract in a couple? It asked me questions about my own life.

You've worked with many talented, fascinating, sometimes difficult actors. What qualities do you look for when casting?

I like to work in complicity. You know, I don't want to fight with my actors, but sometimes it happens, because each actor has his own way of working, and, as a director, you have to adapt. I realised that when I made a film called 8 Women in which I had eight stars in front of me, and I realised you don't direct Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Fanny Ardant in the same way. What I learned is that you have to give them what they want. If they want to fight; you have to fight … Y’know, it’s a sadomasochistic relationship, sometimes, between director and actor: you have to play it by their terms and it’s always full of passion.

Where do you have your best ideas?

In my dreams. My films are often inspired by dreams. There are so many ideas and stories around – you read a magazine or you speak with someone and they tell you about their life. Maybe it gives you an idea. But when you are obsessed, when you dream about an idea, that means it's important.

What's your favourite decade, and why?

The decade of my youth, maybe ’75 to ’85. It was the discovery of many things: the Cure, Fassbinder, Bergman, Buñuel – I was a cinephile very early. It was the period of my firsts, you know? First time of love, first time of friendship, first time of many things. And there is the excitement of the discovery, but there is also the sadness of the disillusion too. So it's a very complex and intense period. 

Who's your hero or heroine?

Film-makers. Any film-maker. I think it's so difficult to make a film. I'm always interested to hear the experience of film-makers – and I don't like all their films! – but yes, I think they are all heroes.

The Stranger is in cinemas from 10 April