Isabelle Huppert: The art of silence

Isabelle Huppert is one of France’s most celebrated actors, an icon of screen and stage whose career spans over 120 films. Huppert has collaborated with cinema’s great auteurs, including Michael Haneke, Jean-Luc Godard, and Hong Sang-soo, alongside influential theatre directors Bob Wilson, Peter Zadek, and Claude Régy.

Susan Sontag famously described Huppert as a “total artist,” praising her as an actor of “unlimited ability, with… a body of work and a talent from which we can expect anything in the future, anything and everything.” Such accolades are not uncommon, Huppert has received a Golden Globe, a BAFTA, an Academy Award nomination, two César Awards and two more from Cannes for performances that have challenged, unravelled, and remade our understanding of character and film.

Dive into our interview with Isabelle Huppert as she shares insights on the balance between collaboration and direction, the role of silence in acting, and the power of cinema to explore human nature.

hube: When reflecting on your roles in film and theatre, do you feel an emotional connection to them? Do you ever re-evaluate them, discover new meanings, or perhaps regret things about them?

Isabelle Huppert: I don’t watch my films a lot. When it’s over, it’s over. I’m more aware of the audience’s attachment to the films than my own. Of course, I remember the experience of making those films, but that’s different to the emotional attachment to the role itself. I don’t keep any leftovers, any traces, actually. No, it really exists only in the present moment. And as I said, when it’s over, it’s over.

h: Having worked with some of the greatest directors in theatre and cinema, which do you think is more effective in achieving the best results: a collaborative approach or firm direction?

IH: It depends on what you hear and how you interpret a film director’s direction. Most of the time, people have false ideas about what a director’s indication or direction really means. I believe cinema is a language in itself, and as you make a film, you come to understand the language of cinema rather than relying on verbal indications or directions. This is precisely how your idea about the film—your process, your intimate and secret way of exploring the role—finds its fulfillment or resolution through the language the director offers you. That’s how it works.

h: Some say an actor reaches a new level when they stop exploring the character and start using the character to explore themselves. Does this idea resonate with you?

IH: Let’s say it’s a mutual journey and experience between yourself and the character. Honestly, I’ve never really understood what a “character” truly means. I keep saying that I play a person rather than a character, to make it feel more vital and alive. For me, a character has always felt very abstract and limited, because when you think of a person as a character, you force yourself to resemble something predefined, to literally adopt that restricted framework.

The concept of a person is much broader—more like what you and I are. There’s a stronger potential for connection between you and the so-called character when you approach it this way. If you think of it as playing a person, then yes, you’re essentially playing yourself. It’s always quite a mysterious alchemy.

Of course, you understand that the audience will perceive a fictional narrative and believe in the character, but it’s still a very personal and secret process because you know deep down that speaking about the character, or the film, ultimately means speaking about yourself—that’s for sure.

h: The art of transformation is both magical and a little intimidating. In everyday life, we value sincerity, yet we admire actors for the illusion they create on stage. Do you allow yourself a place for “play” offstage?

IH: Well, actually, no. I’m playing on stage and on screen. You always have a deeply personal expression of yourself that belongs solely to your private circle—it doesn’t extend to the public sphere. That expression can sometimes find its way onto the screen through a fictional narrative. But I don’t believe the opposite is true; I don’t think I play offstage.

Also, I don’t find the art of transformation is intimidating. It’s anything but. It’s entirely about enjoying the process and understanding exactly how it works—knowing precisely how you navigate this path. It may seem obscure or difficult from an outsider’s perspective, but as an actor, it’s something you master completely.

h: For actors, words are an essential professional tool. Scripts create a written narrative, but tone, gesture, pause, and expression can reshape or even undermine that narrative. Would you say this is both the central element and mystery of acting?

IH: We all know that acting relies on words, but it also relies on body language. You could say that cinema is truly the art of silence, but it’s wonderful when you can bring that possibility to the theatre. Suddenly, it’s like music—you know, a musical note resonates, and then it’s followed by silence.

Silence has its own presence. In cinema, and even a little in theatre, silences carry meaning. In films, a close-up of the eyes can convey so much without a single word. It’s the incredible power of cinema—to harness this potential, this possibility, through the gaze, through the language of the eyes.