Light up the Void  

The last time we spoke, around the time of Earwig 's release two years ago, you were already talking about your fascination with fairy tales. You said: "  Often, what we call children's stories are very cruel, they are often horror films. Andersen is frightening ."

"Ah yes, Andersen is cruel. What's crazy is that we turn his tales into children's stories when they're actually very complex, cruel, and sometimes even bleak. It's true that this isn't particularly the case with The Snow Queen . At least not his version; mine perhaps a little more so." LH

What distinguishes them from the animated adaptations to which they are often reduced is a surprising absence of morality.

"Yes, that's precisely what's so great about Andersen; it's never black and white, even though Disney, Hollywood, and the American film industry have turned his stories into moralistic tales that are often very simplistic, where good triumphs over evil. The Snow Queen is a good example because the eponymous character is a very ambiguous figure who represents death but also a force of nature and knowledge." LH

What aspects of this story particularly resonate with you?

"There are several of Andersen's fairy tales that I love and have reread regularly throughout my life. What particularly appealed to me about adapting this one was precisely the character of the Snow Queen and the complexity of what she represents. But where the tale is purely fantastical, I wanted to tell the story of an actress who must play the role of the Snow Queen. The reason stems from a passage at the beginning of the tale that I didn't keep verbatim, but which sparked the idea of ​​a film within a film: the devil makes a mirror that reflects the world in a distorted way; this mirror is broken, and the shards enter people's hearts and eyes, changing their perception of the world. I thought of this mirror as a kind of movie screen, and that Cristina, the actress's character, sees the world in a distorted way. Furthermore, the heroine of the tale is a little girl who grows up as the story unfolds. She is the one with a quest to fulfill, not a boy. She is the one who will go to meet the Snow Queen and confront her. I didn't keep the story itself, but I really enjoyed telling the story of the encounter between two female characters." LH

Was the desire to transpose the original story into the world of cinema therefore present from the beginning ?

"It came about through this mirror idea, which I really like. But since I didn't want to make a completely fantastical film, I transposed it. This allowed me to have one part of the film that was realistic and another that was more fantastical. The film within the film allowed me to highlight the interplay between reality and unreality, between what is true and what is not." LH

Why didn't you want to make a completely fantasy film?

"For several reasons. First, I think it would have required considerable resources to recreate truly extraordinary visions. Furthermore, I had just finished Earwig , which certainly wasn't a fantastical film but rather a psychological thriller with a nightmarish logic where the storytelling wasn't always realistic. This time, I wanted to start with something more grounded in reality, even if it was a very simplified and stylized version. This story of a young girl who dreams of the city while living in a children's home in a small mountain village, this desire to run away, to discover the world and encounter her own history—I felt it was something everyone could relate to, or at least understand." LH

You transpose this story of a young girl fascinated by the discovery of the world of cinema to the 1970s, a time when you yourself were a teenager. Is there an autobiographical element behind this choice?

"I didn't think about that aspect from the start. Geoff Cox, the film's co-writer, and I initially agreed that the story shouldn't be set later than the 1970s, or possibly the early 1980s, so that we'd still be in a time when people didn't yet have access to a lot of information or images, a time when the fascination with actors and actresses on the big screen was still immense, a time when an actress could still have a real aura of mystery around her. I did grow up in the 1970s and started going to the movies on my own in the mid-1970s. Jeanne is also a filmmaker in the making, in the sense that what attracts her isn't the glitz and glamour, but the imaginary world created by a film projected on a screen. What fascinates her isn't Cristina, but what she calls the kingdom, that is, the world of images. She doesn't want to become Cristina, she wants to get the Snow Queen's kingdom. It was when I realized this that I actually became aware that Jeanne was me as a teenager ( laughs )." LH

One of the most intriguing aspects of the feature film is that the film within the film itself doesn't seem to come from the 70s at all.

"Yes, I was very keen on the fantastical dimension of this film within a film. Dino, the director's character, is certainly not a modern filmmaker; he doesn't work at all like the directors of that era, except perhaps Mario Bava. He shoots in the old style, in a studio, with a lot of special effects, painted sets, and very particular lighting. I was thinking of Cocteau, as well as Powell and Pressburger. My reference point was clearly the 1930s. I was keen on this contrast because it allowed me to create a small, separate universe within the film studio. That's also what interested me in this project: the idea that at least part of the film takes place in a completely artificial setting." LH

As in your previous films, your meticulous work on the sets leaves a particular emphasis on emptiness. What is your method for creating sets that are both empty and unsettling?

"It's true that I realized quite quickly that I was drawn to empty streets and corridors. I think it comes from Dario Argento's early films. I probably internalized this idea of ​​the weight of architecture, the weight of emptiness, the anxiety that arises from the absence of human beings in the sets, and now it comes naturally to me. Jeanne lives in a tiny village, and since it's filmed at night, we don't really have time to realize it, but the streets are completely empty around her. Village life revolves around the single ice rink, and I was determined that, apart from this one exception, Jeanne wouldn't encounter anyone. Later, I really liked the idea of ​​her being able to wander alone through a film set and explore it in secret. I don't know why I'm so drawn to scenes where people walk through empty places. What I do know is that it is a real pleasure for me to play with this void, because it brings a certain abstraction, a tension, an abnormality even though it arrives in the narrative in a very natural way; these are moments where it is logical that there is no one around Jeanne." LH

In this film, as in your previous ones, you also use a lot of shadows. Is that for a similar purpose?

"Yes and no. In this film, there are quite a few night scenes, some outdoors and others indoors, and each time the dimness arrives as something logical. When Jeanne hides on set outside of filming hours, there's no reason for it to be brightly lit, and I liked this semi-darkness. In contrast, the set in action is very brightly lit. This contrast between shadow and light in the studio mirrors the contrast between the brightness of a cinema screen onto which an image is projected and the darkness of the projection room." LH

Were all these shadows a way of evoking German expressionism?

"Ah yes, that's something we thought about a lot; it was a real reference point for the sets, at least those in the film within the film. We didn't go so far as to build purely distorted sets in the Expressionist style, but we came close, for example with the cave where Cristina sleeps or the ice tower itself. In fact, it's really as if Dino's film were an Expressionist film. Following that, we tried to reproduce a certain Expressionism even in the real sets, like in the way we filmed the mountain, for example." LH

One might expect a film set in the 70s to be filled with colors associated with the era, like orange or brown, but white dominates. How did you approach working with the colors?

"First of all, the film takes place mostly at night, so it made sense that the colors wouldn't be as vibrant, but it's true that the beginning of the film almost seems to be in black and white, until Jeanne puts on her red anorak. It's when she arrives at the ice rink that the colors become more prominent. Before that, the characters we see in the foyer wear very colorful clothes; they look sad and austere. Bianca wears yellow, Cristina a touch of purple, but apart from that, I really wanted white to dominate everything. It's the white of the snow and the cinema screen all at once." LH

This palette contributes to the loss of bearings regarding the temporal markers of the two narratives, it contributes to the blurring between Jeanne's story and the film within the film.

"There you have it. There are a few small details that do recall the 70s, like the music at the ice rink, but on the set, all the references are from the 30s. Removing the colors definitely contributes to this unsettling feeling. I like removing elements; I tend to like sets empty of people, but also empty of objects. So there are few pieces of furniture or props in my sets. Even if the viewer doesn't necessarily realize it, removing details from the screen acts on the subconscious and evokes a sense of the uncanny. The stylization and minimalism contribute to generating this unease." LH

Is this also the role you give to silence, which is very present in the film?

"Yes, absolutely, it contributes to the overall strangeness. I called on Ken Yasumoto again, who had already worked on Earwig , and we approached the sound in a similar way. We decided to use very few sounds and that we needed to find the right ones while avoiding overly simplistic effects. Removing sounds is like removing elements from an image; it allows you to better highlight what remains. Furthermore, we worked extensively on the spatialization of the sound: creating spaces to play with reverberation, with what creates the impression of a large or small space." LH

Was editing an important step in balancing the film's unique pacing?

"I worked with the same editor as on Evolution , so she knew I don't like to rush things and that I prefer a somewhat slow pace ( laughs ). Finding the ideal rhythm means making sure that what is slow finds its perfect balance, neither too much nor too little. I would say we spent a lot of time searching for the ideal rhythm for the beginning of the film. There are a few scenes we cut because we realized that the film truly begins at a specific moment: the moment we see Cristina on screen for the first time, when Jeanne observes her through the crack. From that point on, the film changes. I knew it was a pivotal moment, but I hadn't realized how much that scene would shift the entire film, but after all, that's normal: that's what a star is, when she appears she overwhelms everything around her and nothing is ever the same again." LH

How did this new collaboration with Marion Cotillard go, more than twenty years after Innocence ?

«It was actually quite simple, even though of course we were all a little intimidated by her status or what she's become since Innocence , but she was incredibly down-to-earth and really lovely on set. Since we'd already worked together, she remembered that I like it when actors have a rather restrained and deliberate style, and it came back to her naturally. We didn't need to rehearse; the costume and makeup fittings served as our rehearsal. It was this stage that allowed her to get into character, and that allowed both of us to reconnect. You can ask anything of her because she's so technically impressive, but in her case, it's not just a matter of psychological approach; it's almost choreography.

When I held auditions for the role of Jeanne, I already knew we had Marion, but I didn't reveal it, firstly because I didn't want it to get out, but also because I didn't want the young actresses to be too intimidated or anything like that. But when I saw Clara Pacini, I realized she wouldn't be afraid at all, that she wasn't so shy, and in fact, there was a real chemistry between the two of them. Yet they met quite late. We were supposed to film in February, and it wasn't until January that the three of us were together for the first time. Marion invited us to her house, and it just so happened that it was snowing that evening. Clara arrived by car, driven through the snow to the Queen's Palace; it was the perfect way to enter the film. What's funny is that when Clara arrived, there was indeed a bit of tension, both from Clara and from Marion. To say Marion was intimidated would be an exaggeration, but it's true that Clara has a very strong presence. At that moment, I thought it would work very well between the two of them, and it did. Marion was very generous with her, but also with Lilas-Rose Gilberti, who plays the other young girl. She was very helpful to these young newcomers." LH

Finally, I would like to return to the very first word spoken in the film, which is "Vast". What motivated this very surprising and poetic choice that immediately generates particular attention?

(She recites) ""  Vast, immense, and sparkling like ice was the kingdom of the Snow Queen …" Actually, it's a bit like those classic films where the first image is of a book, where it says " Once upon a time ." The idea was to showcase the kingdom right from the start. I hadn't thought it would be so unusual, but I wanted everything to begin like a traditional fairy tale, and melodically, I thought it was powerful to start with the adjectives." LH

This immediately reminded me of that recurring phrase in your films: "  Do you want to hear a secret? " 

 

"That's exactly it. That's precisely the desired effect." LH

Interview conducted by Gregory Coutaut on September 2, 2025/Le Polyester

https://lepolyester.com/entretien-avec-lucile-hadzihalilovic-la-tour-de-glace/