Largely shunned in France, the work of these consultants is now being recognised at Cannes. Film-maker Anubha Momin describes how they make for more confident movies – and directors
T
he light is wrong for what we’re trying to do. Outside, it’s early afternoon at the Port de l’Arsenal in Paris, bright and unmistakably day. Inside the houseboat that acts as the main set for my film Amarres (Moorings), the team has installed track lights and covered a ceiling porthole with black fabric, turning the bedroom into something closer to night. Red velvet walls, and a platform bed tucked into the curve of the bow; it’s meant to feel intimate, private. But of course, it isn’t.
We have just come back from lunch. My actors are half-undressed on the bed, waiting. The set is closed, with only six crew members in the narrow hallway leading to the bedroom: camera, sound, myself, the first assistant director, and Nathalie Allison, our intimacy coordinator. We’re behind, and I have less than an hour to direct three sex scenes back to back. What I’m about to ask for has to look real, spontaneous, desirable – the kind of intimacy French cinema has long prided itself on capturing without instruction.
It doesn’t.
