Biography: life and films
Jules Berry wasn't just one of the greatest French actors of all time, he
was also one of the most colourful - the kind of charismatic smoothy who
only had to walk into a scene for it to suddenly light up and grab your attention.
'Understated' is not a word you could legitimately use in describing Berry's
performances. They were grand, expressive, sometimes excessive, but
the actor was never less than compelling and he always knew how to moderate his
charming flamboyancy and grandiloquence to the requirements of any role. His colourful
performances were a reflection of his own colourful character. He was
as extravagant off the stage as he was on it, and the reason he worked on
so many films (over ninety in just twenty years) was because he had a fatal
addiction to gambling - an addiction that caused him to lose his shirt at
many a casino or race course and ultimately led him to end his days a virtual
pauper. This was a man who never did anything by halves if he could
help it.
Jules Berry's real name was Marie Louis Jules Paufichet. He was born
on 9th February 1883, in Poitiers, France, the second of two sons.
His father was an ironmonger by trade and was nicknamed Le Président
Berry (after a local personage, the Duc de Berry) on account of the airs
he gave himself. The Paufichet family moved to Paris in 1888, where
Jules and his brothers attended the Lycée Louis Le Grand. It
was here that the young Jules struck up a friendship with Paul Lefèvre
(later to become the distinguished poet and playwright Paul Géraldy),
with whom he wrote a short play entitled
Le Biniou. Whilst he
was studying for a degree in architecture at the École des Beaux Arts
Berry acquired an interest in the theatre and learned how to play the piano.
It was purely by chance that Berry managed to gatecrash his way into
the world of theatre in 1903. The story goes that he was running an
errand for an architect when, suddenly caught in the rain, he took shelter
in the entrance to the Théâtre Antoine in Paris and discovered
that auditions were being held. He couldn't resist presenting himself
for an audition and he made such an impression that he was immediately offered
a role in a production of Léon Hennique's
La Mort du duc d'Enghien.
The engagement only lasted a few weeks, but with this experience Berry was
able to gain employment at other theatres in Paris - L'Ambigu and L'Athénée.
Whilst he was on tour in Lyon, he attracted the attention of Jean-François
Ponson, who gave him a twelve year contract at the Théâtre des
Galeries Saint-Hubert in Brussels. This was the point at which the
actor's stage career took off.
At the outset of WWI, Berry wasted no time enlisting in the French
army and ended up as a chauffeur to no less a person than André Maginot
(the instigator of the famous Maginot Line). After risking his own
neck to save the life of an officer, he was awarded the Croix de Guerre.
Demobilised, he returned to Paris and resumed his stage career without
delay. Over the next decade and a half he would become one of the leading
lights of the Parisian stage, delighting audiences with his vivid performances
in around thirty productions of play by authors as diverse as Tristan Bernard,
Marcel Achard, Georges Feydeau, Louis Verneuil and Roger Ferdinand.
At this time, cinema was still in its silent phase and it held little interest
for Berry, although he had appeared in a few films - debuting in Henri Desfontaines's
short
Olivier Cromwell (1911) and showing up briefly in Marcel L'Herbier's
L'Argent (1928).
It was only when cinema had made the transition to sound that Berry
was lured away from the stage, towards the studio set. His screen career
began proper with a leading role in André Berthomieu's
Mon coeur
et ses millions (1931). This was the first of a number of films
in which he worked with the actress Suzy Prim, with whom he lived for
three years after separating from his wife Jane Marken. After breaking
up with Prim, Berry began an affair with an actress who was thirty years
his junior, Josseline Gaël - his co-star on Jean Vallée's
Jeunes
filles à marier (1935). The couple married and worked together
on seven films. Gaël gave birth to Berry's daughter, Michèle,
in 1939, but got herself into trouble during the Occupation by taking as
her lover a notorious crook who was in the employ of the Gestapo. The actor's
testimony at his wife's trial after the Liberation saved her from execution
but by this time their marriage was over.
By the mid-1930s, Berry's popular screen persona - an oily but likeable
cad, as slippery as he was elegant - had been well and truly established,
through such films as Marc Allégret's
Aventure à Paris
(1936) and Christian-Jaque's
Monsieur
Personne (1936). He formed a bizarre double act with Michel
Simon in the eccentric comedy
Le Mort en fuite (1936)
and, in Jean Renoir's
Le
Crime de Monsieur Lange (1936), he took on one of his best-known
roles, as the loathsome capitalist Batala. When asked, in this film,
who will miss him after he is gone, the actor immediately replies: 'Les femmes!'
The director Marcel Carné and screenwriter Jacques Prévert
supplied Berry with two of his most memorable roles, first as the sly dog
trainer Monsieur Valentin in
Le
Jour se lève (1939), then as the Devil himself in
Les Visiteurs du soir
(1942). the actor is slimy nastiness personified in Louis Daquin's
Le Voyageur de la Toussaint
(1943), and he then turned in one of his finest dramatic performances as
a shady man of mystery in Henri Decoin's moody Simenon adaptation,
L'Homme de Londres (1943).
The actor showed a much lighter side in the comedies that alternated with
these more serious cinematic offerings, often partnered with established
comedy performers. He appeared with Fernandel on several occasions
(
Hercule,
Les Rois du
sport,
Les Petits riens), and worked well with Noël-Noël
in
La Famille Duraton
(1939), adapted from a popular radio show of the time. Berry's comedic
and dramatic skills are both put to excellent use in Maurice Cam's black
comedy
Tête blonde (1949),
and as the unfortunate reveller Fortunato in Jean Faurez's
Histoires extraordinaires
(1949), we can only weep for him as Fernand Ledoux cruelly bricks him up
in his wine cellar. Shortly after completing what was to be his final
film, Henri Lepage's
Les Maîtres nageurs (1951), the actor recorded
a number of poems by Jacques Prévert for the radio.
By this time, now in his late sixties, Berry was in a poor state of
health and was struggling to make ends meet - the result of his chronic addiction
to gambling and alcohol. It was whilst being treated in hospital
for rheumatism that the actor suffered the heart attack which killed him,
most likely because he had been drinking before the operation. He died,
penniless and alone, on 23rd April 1951, aged 68. It seems scarcely
credible that such a flamboyant extrovert, a force of nature that had brought
enjoyment to so many, could quit the world's stage in such a wretched manner.
His mortal remains lie in Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris, but his
larger-than life-personality, his joie de vivre and infectious sense of fun
are still very much with us - generously pouring from the celluloid in the
remarkable body of film work he has left behind. Who will miss Jules
Berry? Anyone who has seen him act.
© James Travers 2017
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