The beautiful Thérèse Liotard left us this May 23. She was eighty years old. Like so many other of her colleagues, she was one of those supporting roles whose face we know, but more rarely the name. The glory of the latter has often been mentioned in these columns, but it is always welcome to return to it.
Trained at the Bordeaux conservatory, her first job was modest: replacement announcer at theORTF. You have to start with something. It is also on the small screen that Thérèse Liotard regularly appears in soap operas such as Commissioner Moulin, Arsène Lupine or the remarkable Companions of Eleusisan esoteric fantasy that Gaston Leroux would not have denied. On the big one, the lynx eyes remember her in The Distracted (1970), by Pierre Richard, or Raphael the debauchedfilmed a year later by Michel Deville.
We certainly only see it fleetingly. But already, it radiates. There is something angelic in his eyes and his smile. Her face is pure virginal sweetness. The greatest directors will remember him, giving him increasingly significant roles: Costa-Gavras with Section spéciale (1975) or Bertrand Tavernier with Death Live (1980).
Come to me, I live at Thérèse Liotard…
In 1981, public recognition finally arrived when Patrice Leconte chose her to play Bernard Giraudeau’s companion in Come to my house, I’m staying with a friend. The couple is the victim of an abominable man, Michel Blanc, a parasitic chemist who invades their apartment. He wants to organize orgies there, pushes the unfortunate and kind Giraudeau to theft and adultery. The infamous gnome played by a white man at his best? The ten plagues of Egypt alone. And the beautiful Thérèse, also a victim of his kindness, tries to restore some order to this maelstrom. She shines with grace and naturalness. She doesn’t play a role. She is her role. As irresistible as a McDonald’s cashier as she is naked in the shower. That’s saying something.
In total, she made twenty-four films. Among them, two obviously stand out, The Glory of my Father et My mother’s castlefilmed in 1990 by Yves Robert at the top of his art. Inspired by the memoirs of Marcel Pagnol, this sumptuous diptych which is enchanted by the music of Vladimir Cosma remains the authentic masterpiece of a French cinema that has been badly abused today. And Thérèse Liotard excels once again, playing little Marcel’s aunt, a bit of an old maid, but who marries late in life with Jules, played by an imperial Didier Pain as a Catholic of old France, while Pagnol’s father is a layman schoolteacher professing only contempt for matters of the mind. The skill of the screenplay by Louis Nucéra, a great friend of Georges Brassens, consists of extracting the best from both. One believes in God and the other does not matter, ultimately, as kindness and nobility of heart bring them together. And Thérèse Liotard, transfigured into a winged fairy, flutters over this sweet and ultimately holy family.
Her performance is so luminous that it earned her a nomination for the César, 1991, in the Best Supporting Actress category. She didn’t get it and didn’t make a drama out of it.
Thus, this great lady has always been exemplarily discreet, whether regarding her private life or her political opinions. She was content to do her job well. In the theater, of course, with nine plays under the belt, of which we will remember The Hurluberlu or the Reactionary in Loveone of Jean Anouilh’s masterpieces, given in 1987 at the Palais-Royal theater. And on television, obviously, having played in fifty-three television films and other television series, from 1973 to 2011, the year during which our dear Thérèse took a sort of semi-retirement. She will therefore give theater lessons. In Paris, first of all. Then to Sens, in Yonne. Of this new life, she said: “This is not a profession from which one withdraws. Giving lessons means passing on this experience as an actress, acquired from the greatest.“And elegant, at that. She only found herself in the spotlight for three roles. Certainly, but not just any ones.
The sadness of Patrice Leconte…
For his part, Patrice Leconte confides to the author of these lines: “ I knew Thérèse from having seen her in One sings, the other doesn’tthe beautiful film by Agnès Varda. And then I also knew her in life, because at the time, she was the partner of one of my friends.
When I prepared Come to my house, I’m staying with a friendI immediately thought of her, because I knew she would be perfect in this character of an intelligent and balanced young woman, having to face a husband (Bernard Giraudeau) who cannot help being fickle and an irresponsible intruder (Michel Blanc) who intrudes himself into the couple’s apartment. I liked his patience, his tolerance, his calm too (but up to a certain point), his ability to forgive.
Since this film, we have continued to see each other, from time to time, and then we lost sight of each other, as is often the case in this profession.
Today, here she is gone, and the trio of Come to my house has therefore definitively died out. »
On September 7, 2018, the Souvenance de cinéphiles association, based in Puget-Théniers, a peaceful Provençal village, presented him with an award crowning his entire career. This, with the touching testimony of Patrice Leconte, was worth all the Caesars in the world; the cicadas will agree. And Marcel Pagnol too, it goes without saying.
