Defenders of democracy or stubborn investigators, journalists are also fictional characters. Their multiple incarnations have often changed the public’s view, but what about that of the main stakeholders? In series 7e art and 4e power, The duty gives the floor to journalists from all backgrounds to find out their perception of the profession through cinema.
Fascinated by the world of espionage, capable of flushing out corrupt politicians, ready to discuss with trigger-happy terrorists, nothing inspires Fabrice de Pierrebourg more than Afghanistan, Iraq, Palestine, Ukraine or Syria. When he met The duty, it was with excitement that he was counting the days before his departure for Lebanon, another destination with an unpredictable political and social climate, and which the conflict between Israel and the Hamas movement has only exacerbated since last fall . This globe-trotting journalist is also a nomad in his profession. Since his arrival in Quebec in 1998, this Frenchman has collaborated on Montreal Journalunwillingly participating in the adventure of the information website Rue Frontenaccreated when employees of the Newspaper were locked out between 2009 and 2011. In 2010, he joined the daily investigative team The Press. It was then as an independent journalist that he collaborated with the Cogeco network, as well as with the magazine News, while traveling the planet. He has also written and co-written several works, including Montrealistan. Investigation into the Islamist movement (Stanké), These spies from elsewherewith Michel Juneau-Katsuya (Stanké), and “Bye-Bye Mom!” “. Radicalized teenagers’ notebooks (The Press).
Did cinema play a role in your desire to become a journalist?
When I was young, I didn’t dream of becoming a journalist, but a photojournalist! In the 1980s, when I was doing my compulsory military service, I followed people like Patrick Chauvel [photographe et documentariste français ayant couvert plus de 30 guerres]. In fact, I idolized them because their photographs alone told real stories. That said, when I go reporting today, I’m alone, and I take my own photos.
It’s hard to say how much it influenced me, but when it came out, I loved it The Killing Fields [de Rolland Joffé, 1984]. Sam Waterson plays a journalist from the New York Times established in Cambodia in 1973, and did everything to find his fixer, imprisoned by the Khmer Rouge in one of their death camps. It was a bit vague for me at the time, and the subject wasn’t as present as it is today, but the role and importance of the fixer for a journalist is very well described. Let’s say it: the journalists [qui font des reportages à l’]foreigners are right to pay tribute to them, because without them, we would not be much. The one I worked with in Afghanistan was taken prisoner by the Taliban, but fortunately he was released. As we experience sometimes very intense things together, we must establish a real bond of trust.
Do you have a particular affection for what we could call “journalist films”?
Not particularly, with a few exceptions. I am of course thinking of Spotlight [de Tom McCarthy, 2015]even if the subject of investigation was more or less within my ropes, and above all The Post [de Steven Spielberg, 2017]. I loved everything about this movie! As in Spotlight, the characters are not heroes, but courageous people. First there is this team spirit, that of a group of journalists in a newsroom working on a big story about to break. [la publication des Pentagon Papers en 1971 sur la stratégie militaire américaine pendant la guerre du Vietnam]. Then, we clearly describe these links between private media and political power, as well as the economic pressures that can be exerted to silence them; You would have to be very naive to believe that this does not happen in reality! This can hamper the work of investigative journalists, and each of their decisions becomes even more crucial. Finally, one thing betrayed my age, and gave me the shivers in The Post : all these frenetic images of the presses, of the paper passing by, the visual composition of the first page. In the cinema as in life, the paper newspaper still has something magical.
You also had the chance to explore the world of espionage. Without fear of being wrong, we can say that this world resembles anything but a James Bond film!
Indeed ! On the other hand, I must admit that I love OSS 117especially the first film [Le Caire, nid d’espions, de Michel Hazanavicius, 2006]. I like this completely absurd humor based on a lot of clichés, and the secret agent [incarné par Jean Dujardin]it’s the perfect cliché of the detestable Frenchman!
As for the spies I met, they were a bit… flat. This is why I liked the series The Americans (2013-2018), which perfectly illustrates the hyperrealistic side of this work, more theatrical than spectacular. I was able to chat with a couple who look like the one we see in The Americans. They married during the USSR, and attended KGB universities, which then sent them to Canada, including Montreal and Toronto. Here they had two children, then moved to the United States. Their goal: not to be noticed. So, no gadgets, and no question of driving an Aston Martin! The important thing for them was to blend in and use rudimentary means to communicate: exchanging plastic bags from the same store, sticking things under benches, etc.
Far from wanting to compare your methods and your personalities, you still have a propensity similar to that of the late journalist Paul Marchand: to go where things are going! Have you seen the adaptation of his book, Sympathy for the devil (2019), by Guillaume de Fontenay, and if so, could you draw parallels between your own experiences and his account of the siege of Sarajevo in 1992-1993?
I did not know Paul Marchand personally, and I do not consider myself a war correspondent. On the other hand, the universe described in the film resembles the reality of journalists in this type of field: we are in a bubble, and nothing matters anymore. This is why your loved ones, your bosses or the general public don’t seem to understand anything, which creates impatience. Moreover, Marchand often ended his reports by speaking of “the indifference of the international community.”
In this context, the principle of journalistic neutrality exasperates me a little. Because objectivity does not exclude empathy. When you arrive at a crime scene, a theater of war or a catastrophic humanitarian situation, you arrive there not only as a journalist, but as a human being. Faced with all this, I must retranslate these events as objectively as possible, but without negative emotion. My goal is to go among all these people and tell what they are experiencing in all its horror. On the other hand, taking sides as Marchand does by carrying detonators for one of the two camps is a line that should not be crossed.
Sympathy for the devil also illustrates the fact that he was not only in a bubble, but that he did not hold back from vindictively criticizing the work of his colleagues. When you go through this kind of experience, the return is sometimes trying, and the journalistic treatment of local issues can seem futile. Not to mention that there are plenty of wars all over the world right now, and no journalists to cover them.
In a certain way, like Paul Marchand, you have this moral obligation to bear witness to realities that many people do not want to see or hear?
Yes, but I don’t thrive on danger. I’ve seen it in so many movies, I’ve read it in so many books and articles: many people leave to run away from something inside themselves, and get lost elsewhere to forget. My reporting may be a drug; I must have the humility to admit it, but I don’t know how to do anything else.