Lyna Khoudri: “Sorority is a buzzword; I am for sharing, without distinction”

Three years after her César for female revelation for

the actress reunited with director Mounia Meddour for

a new portrait of a resilient young Algerian woman finding her salvation in art.

Invested body and soul in the project, Lyna Khoudri embodies this dancer, who, following an attack, loses the use of speech and struggles to regain that of her legs.

The support of her mother (formidable Rachida Brakni), caregivers and women, also victims of post-traumatic shock, will lead her on the path of healing and reconstruction.

Meeting with a challenging actress, again amazing in a score where the body transmits all that words can no longer tell.

Madame Figaro

Central.

changed my life, and Mounia and I have been great friends ever since.

She made me read the script for

while we were on vacation together.

There was a real challenge with this character who communicates through the body, by dancing or signing.

For six months, I learned sign language as one would learn an accent, and I took ballet and contemporary dance lessons.

When I was younger, I did modern jazz, but it had been ten years since I had practiced.

Having the rhythm was an advantage, but going on pointe at my age is a priori impossible.

I really worked hard to get there.

A dancer doubles me on certain shots, the splits, for example, but I had made Mounia promise to film me on pointe.

It was out of the question that I did all this for nothing.

Did you meet victims of post-traumatic shock to prepare for the role?

Yes, because I followed Mounia throughout the preparation.

I also met with her people suffering from Broca's aphasia, doctors, psychologists, speech therapists, deaf-mutes... As the work progressed, we discovered that one could lose speech following a shock. traumatic.

The last sentence that Houria hears before being attacked by an ex-Islamist terrorist is “You talk too much, you women”.

His silence is the result of these last words addressed to him.

It is in solidarity that we draw hope and energy when we evolve in a society that prevents us

Lyna Khoudri

Of what exactly is his silence the metaphor?

From the confinement of women who are deprived of their voice in the public space.

The dance tells us how they can reclaim it by going through other paths.

There are other means than words to emancipate oneself, but in a society where the female body is taboo, choosing dance is not insignificant.

What the film tells us is that the woman will take her place anyway, whatever happens, and often by the force of the collective.

It is in solidarity that we draw hope and energy when we evolve in a society that prevents us.

What place does sorority have in your life?

A place just as important as fraternity.

Sisterhood is a buzzword, sometimes used as a “cons”.

I am for sharing, without distinction.

I can spend entire evenings with boys only and create a WhatsApp group called “Les Reines” to chat with the actresses I like.

“The most beautiful things sometimes arise from chaos”

Telling about Algeria in your films, is it a way to reconnect with your roots?

Also.

It does me good to speak in Algerian and to immerse myself in this culture which is mine and from which I sometimes move away by being Parisian.

I left the country very young, but I love it, I was born there, my father still lives there and I go there very often.

But what is also expressed when I make a film about Algeria is my desire to support and participate in a booming Algerian cinema, which remains fragile.

There is such fertile ground for stories there.

The scripts from Algeria that I have read, especially written by friends, are among the best that have passed through my hands.

Sometimes the most beautiful things are born out of chaos.

Read alsoLyna Khoudri: "In the cinema, the best partners are also the worst"

Do you also have a desire to write?

Yes, I have a thousand ideas a day, but it's still very vague.

I need to structure this a bit.

Papicha

Totally.

My first encounter with this word, art, was founding.

It was in high school, following the art history option.

It was my favorite subject, the one where I had the best mark in the baccalaureate.

I also wanted to do the École du Louvre before going into cultural mediation… Very quickly, I felt that the creatives would be my family.

Today, cinema has taken over, but discovering the history of our societies through architecture and all the arts has changed my vision of the world.

I was lucky to have incredible teachers, who broadened our horizons.

Before them, I was walking in the street without trying to understand what was around me.

They opened my eyes and my mind.

You have just performed in Paris

Nothing is set, but I hope so.

It was a great challenge, the opposite of that of the silent Houria, since it is a 40-minute monologue.

I fell in love with the work of Pascal Rambert while reading

and it was impossible for me to refuse this text that he offered me, which is deeply rooted in our time and its issues.

The apprenticeship was very hard, but Pascal is an angel fallen from heaven, a model of listening and benevolence.

I doubted a lot, I was very scared, and without him, I might not have gone to the end of this experience which, in the end, I managed to fully enjoy.

But it was a boxing ring: every night I fought against words and against myself.

"Horia", by Mounia Meddour, with Lyna Khoudri, Rachida Brakni...