Jean-Louis Barrault

Biography: life and films

In his lifetime, Jean-Louis Barrault was one of the most revered figures of the French stage, not only a formidable actor but also a director and company manager who strove tirelessly to make theatre accessible to all by reviving the old classics and bringing a popular appeal to challenging contemporary works. In a career that spanned sixty years, he devoted himself to his art and embraced a dazzling eclecticism that ensured he never fell behind prevailing tastes and attitudes. He was a man who lived only for the present and saw the ephemeral nature of the theatre as one of its most appealing aspects, part of its inherent poetry that reflects the transience of life. Had he devoted himself solely to the theatre, Barrault's name would have faded from memory within a generation of his death, along with his legendary performances and those productions of his that were so greatly admired by critics and audiences. The actor probably wouldn't have minded this - after all that is the nature of life, to be known for a while and then, when our hour upon the stage has passed, to be forgotten. But those who admire this singular creative genius would have much to lament, and it is indeed fortunate that Barrault's name and talent have been preserved for future generations - through the medium of cinema.

Barrault would never have considered himself a film actor. He appeared in quite a few films (fifty in total) but his overriding occupation was the theatre, to which he dedicated virtually every waking hour of his adult life. His film performances, whilst far from insignificant, are the merest shadow of the stupendous bulk of his work which has been lost to posterity, all those stage productions whose after-image lingered only for a while in the minds of those who were fortunate to attend them. If Jean-Louis Barrault means anything today it is the name of the man credited with playing the mime artist Jean-Baptiste Debureau in an impressive but dauntingly long black-and-white French film titled Les Enfants du paradis (a.k.a. Children of Paradise). You'd almost think this is the only thing that the actor did in his entire life. His other film roles are mostly forgotten, his stage work has all but passed into obscurity. It is the mute Jean-Baptiste, endearingly iconic in his clown's outfit, that keeps the memory of one of France's theatrical giants alive. And Barrault's name is worth preserving, if only as an inspiration to others to follow his example and continue his life's goal of making theatre relevant to us all.

Jean-Louis Barrault was a monolith of his profession but he came from the humblest of backgrounds. He was born in Le Vésinet, Yvelines, in the western suburbs of Paris, on 8th September 1910. His father was a pharmacist by trade and a committed socialist in his beliefs. An assiduous student, the young Jean-Louis showed as much promise in mathematics and philosophy as he did in art and he might easily have ended up as an obscure school teacher were it not for his burning interest in the stage. His inspiration was Charles Dullin, one of the towering figures of French theatre at the time, and after writing to the great man Barrault was surprised when he wrote back and offered to give him drama lessons for free. Such was Dullin's faith in the aspiring young actor that he welcomed him into his famous theatrical company. Dullin introduced his protégé to a former student of his, Étienne Decroux, who taught him the art of mine - something that would later come in useful for his most famous screen role. Barrault made his stage debut in 1931, in a small part in Dullin's production of Ben Jonson's Volpone at the Théâtre de l'Atelier. It was in Dullin's troupe that he learned his art and within a few years he was taking on leading roles in plays that included not just the popular classics but also avant-garde pieces.

Always with an eye open for fresh new talent, the film director Marc Allégret saw that the actor's abilities should not be for the stage alone and offered him his first screen roles, first a small part in Les Beaux jours (1935), and then a more ample role, as a fanatical revolutionary, in Sous les yeux d'occident (1936), based on a Joseph Conrad novel. His first major screen role was offered to him by Jean Benoît-Lévy in his now all-but-forgotten film Hélène (1936), in which the actor starred alongside Madeleine Renaud for the first time. Despite the difference in age - Barrault was ten years younger than Renaud - they fell in love and married a few years later. They remained together right up until the actor's death in 1994 and frequently worked together in what was a close and enduring artistic partnership.

In the latter half of the 1930s, even though the theatre would occupy most of his time, Barrault continued making the odd film appearance ('odd' often being the mot juste). Most memorable are his frighteningly authentic portrayals of mental derangement in G.W. Pabst's Mademoiselle Docteur (1937), Marcel Carné's Drôle de drame (1937) and Pierre Billon's La Piste du sud (1938), in which he played, respectively, a melon-obsessed lunatic, an animal-loving serial killer and a murderer slowly going to pieces. In Jeff Musso's acclaimed Le Puritain (1938), winner of the Prix Louis Delluc, the actor gave his most disturbing screen portrayal, as a fiend driven to murder by repressed desire masquerading as obsessive puritanism.

It wasn't until Christian-Jaque cast him as the composer Hector Berlioz in Continental's lavish biopic La Symphonie fantastique (1942) that Barrault found himself in a screen role that was genuinely worthy of his talents. Let down by its melodramatic excesses and flagrant historical inaccuracies, the film is hardly a masterpiece but the actor's performance is never less than mesmerising. After this, he gave an impressive turn as the young Napoléon Bonaparte in Sacha Guitry's Le Destin fabuleux de Desirée Clary (1942) and single-handedly redeemed André Berthomieu's creaking melodrama L'Ange de nuit (1944) with a harrowing portrayal of an artist coming to terms with the loss of his sight.

It was Madeleine Renaud who persuaded Barrault to join the prestigious Comédie-Française in 1940, and it was here that the actor made a successful transition to director with some highly acclaimed productions, including Racine's Phèdre (1942), Paul Claudel's Le Soulier de satin (1943) and Shakespeare's Anthony and Cleopatra (1945). Leaving the Comédie-Française in 1946, Barrault and his wife created their own theatre company, la Compagnie Renaud-Barrault, which survived up until the actor's retirement in 1991. Equipped with some of the most talented actors in France (Jean Desailly, Pierre Renoir, Jacqueline Bouvier, Pierre Bertin), and with Pierre Boulez supplying the music, this company soon established itself and enjoyed eleven highly successful years at the Théâtre de Marigny in Paris. The wide-ranging repertoire included classics by Molière and Shakespeare, Feydeau farces and contemporary pieces such as André Gide's take on Franz Kafka's The Trial (1947).

It was during this happy phase of Jean-Louis Barrault's early career that he was given the role for which he will forever be remembered, that of the 19th century mime artist Jean-Baptiste Debureau in Marcel Carné's Les Enfants du paradis (1945). This cherished masterpiece of French cinema, which also featured memorable turns from Arletty, Pierre Brasseur and Maria Casarès, brought the actor international renown and was the absolute highpoint of his screen career. After the war, theatre would be his main preoccupation and only rarely would he be tempted back to the cinema.

In Christian-Jaque's biopic D'Homme à hommes (1948), Barrault brought a staggering humanity to his portrayal of Henri Dunant, the founder the of the International Red Cross, and his outlandish dual role in Jean Renoir's Le Testament du docteur Cordelier (1959) is the one thing that salvages this wacky interpretation of R.L. Stevenson's Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Improbably, the actor crops up in Jean-Pierre Mocky's cult black comedy La Grande frousse (1964) and even puts in a respectful appearance in Ken Annakin's overblown war film The Longest Day (1962). The actor's last notable screen role was in Ettore Scola's La Nuit de Varennes (1982), to which he brings a fitting gravitas.

So much for the actor's film career. It was on the stage where he had his real triumphs and greatest satisfaction. By the late 1950s, his reputation was such that the French government gave his theatre company the use of the Théâtre de l'Odéon on Paris's left bank. Renamed the Odéon-Théâtre de France, this became the venue of some of the actor-director's biggest successes, with critically acclaimed productions of (amongst others) Eugène Ionesco's Rhinoceros (1960, 1966), Shakespeare's Hamlet (1962, 1964) and Beaumarchais's Le Mariage de Figaro (1964, 1966). The theatre company achieved further success on its world tour, notably in New York and Tokyo.

Barrault was at the height of his glory when a faux pas brought him crashing down to earth. During the May 1968 demonstrations in Paris, the actor showed solidarity with the students by allowing them the use of the Odéon as a protest platform. This earned him considerable kudos from the younger generation but it brought him into immediate conflict with the establishment. Once the crisis had passed, President de Gaulle's Minister of Culture, André Malraux, served him a public humiliation by evicting him from the Odéon and forcing him to look elsewhere for his productions. It was a hard blow from which recovery was slow and painful.

Disgraced but not beaten, Barrault met this setback with another critical triumph, his production of Rabelais, an ambitious evocation of the life and work of the Renaissance author, at the Élysée Montmartre (a popular venue for boxing matches). He then found a more permanent venue for his stage productions of the 1970s in the then mostly disused Gare d'Orsay. It was here, at the Théâtre d'Orsay, that his company staged a daring production of Paul Claudel's Christophe Colomb (1975). In 1981, the company moved to the Théâtre du Rond-Point, a former ice rink which was to be its home for the last ten years of its life.

In its later years, Barrault's company dwindled as its programme became increasingly prone to outside influence and struggled to move with the times. In the end, the actor lost interest and took his retirement in 1991. He died in Paris from a heart attack on 22nd January 1994, aged 83. His wife Madeleine Renaud survived him by just eight months, dying in September of the same year. The couple's influence continues, not just through their impressive body of film work, but also through their published writings - an inspiration for all those who love the theatre and understand its power to illuminate our lives. Barrault's stage work may be lost to us but his unique ethos endures.

Filmography

Click here to view complete list of films...