Part of Paris’s 3rd arrondissement, ground zero of the city’s bo-bo (bourgeois-bohemian) universe, had burned the night before under the banner of student protests. The black smoke from torched plastic garbage bins, rental bikes piled into barricades and street signs drifted into homes around 8 p.m., and its stench never really left.
© Abdul Saboor (REUTERS)
There is a generation of filmviewers that cannot separate Vincent Cassel, 59, from the 1995 movie La Haine (Hate), where he dominated the screen. Although more than three decades have passed, Mathieu Kassovitz’s film was already exposing the seams of modern France. A Jewish kid from the Parisian suburbs, inflamed by frustration, resentment, the poison of social exclusion, a constant sense of injustice and a desire for revenge after a friend gets killed by the police. Vince, but also Saïd and Hubert, his closest friends, formed a trio that would be unlikely today in the banlieues of the Paris periphery. An Arab, a Black man and a Jew united by that prescient smell of fracture, exclusion and identity conflicts that began to feed the hatred and stoke the fire of the far right.
Production: Nono Vázquez. Photography assistants: Emilio Azevedo and Adrián Wong. Production assistants: Laura Gimenez and Isabel Orozco. Makeup and hair: Anne Bochon. Movement direction: Pauline Gudet. Video: Daniele Vaia. Studio: Paul Le Cacheux Photographer.
© Nick Thompson
Éric Sadin gets up and paces around the living room of his Paris apartment when an argument excites him. His own voice urges him to do so. He has developed a critical body of thought, brimming with striking headlines and elegant analyses of the future, riding the philosophical and social thinking of the last century to arrive at a scathing conclusion across some 10 books: we have become idiots, and we are on our way to becoming even bigger idiots.
© Manuel Braun (EL PAÍS)
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