My life with Catherine.

Twice, I shared Catherine Deneuve’s life.

First time was in Sao Paulo, during the -local- winter of 1984. She was in town to launch a line of Brazilian jewelry to which she had licensed her name. I was... well, I was just in Sao Paulo.

Cocktail guests were cruising the hotel ballroom like courtiers anxious to pay their homage. I seized my chance with goal scorer opportunism.

She was small, with « petites » soft hands and an equally soft, quiet voice. Her teeth were slightly marred by cigarette tar, her smile was nearly shy. She took my breath away.

I promised never to divulge what we discussed and shall take my oath to the grave.

A few months later, during the -local- spring of 1984, I met Valérie Kaprisky in Rio de Janeiro. She was there for the film festival, me too.

The name may no longer ring a bell, but she was a sexy young actress coming out of her break-through film : « L’année des méduses » ( « Year of the jellyfish » ; she did not play the jellyfish). Her career would later cool off as suddenly as it had turned hot.

I never promised not to divulge what we discussed. I just do not remember. I nevertheless recall not losing my breath and that she mentioned the pope : the Jean-« Polish » connection ; we were probably debating the ontological argument of the existence of God.

There are set and shooting stars. It is sometimes easy to tell the difference. On and off screen.

My reunion with Catherine Deneuve occurred in Vietnam in December of 1992 : exotic locations and romance go together well.

She was in Hanoi for the local première of « Indochine », I was... well, I was just in Hanoi. She was escorted by the film’s director, Régis Wargnier, I was not at my best shaved. I decided not to embarrass her, we exchanged a glance of tender intimacy : not unlike the one shared by Warren Beatty and Faye Dunaway in the final seconds of « Bonnie and Clyde ».

As her future biographers should take notice, our two encounters had considerable impact on Catherine Deneuve.

In 1984, to forget Brazil and the first one, she buried herself with Gérard Depardieu in the desert of Alain Corneau’s « Fort Saganne ».

In 1992, our meeting of the eyes gave her the strength to rebound from the disappointment of « Indochine » into Téchiné’s « Ma saison préférée ».

« Never two without three » goes the French saying : Paris, Texas, ? London, Ontario ? Trois-Pistoles, Quebec ? Tonight ? Next week ? « When hens have teeth », as goes another, less promising, French saying ?