WHY NOT?
Paris, October 2023
MICHAEL PITT is sitting in a café in the sixth arrondissement of Paris reflecting on his expansive, paradoxical career. By the time he turned 30, his list of collaborators already read like a who’s who of cinema history; from Martin Scorsese and Gus Van Sant to Michael Haneke and the late Bernardo Bertolucci, yet Pitt remains an enigma as one of those artists who rarely gives interviews.
Like his character Matthew in The Dreamers, Bertolucci’s voyeuristic peek into the lives of incestuous cinephiles in 1960s Paris, Pitt came to France seeking deep discussions about “books, life, politics and, most importantly, love.” The actor has long held an affinity with France. While the American film industry was baffled by his refusal of block- buster roles, the French always understood his artistic impulse.
Pitt’s breakout role made him a teenage pin-up when he played quarterback Henry Parker in hit TV series, Dawson’s Creek, but his heart wasn’t in it and he walked away after only one season. The actor wasn’t interested in mainstream TV show success. Instead, he began to climb the ranks of indie cinema, seeking out grittier roles like the drugged-up angel boy in Larry Clark’s Bully or glam rock god, Tommy Gnosis in Hedwig and the Angry Itch. Then in 2003, he cemented his place on every slightly arty 2010s Tumblr dashboard alongside Louis Garrel and Eva Green in The Dreamers.
The 42-year-old former enfant terrible’s own biography reads like a script from one of his films. In his late teens, he ran away to New York, like so many other young dreamers, to pursue acting. He doesn’t believe you have to be tortured to make good art, but admits that his own experiences have come with a certain amount of turbulence and pain.
These days, Pitt appreciates the simpler things in life. A double espresso and a cigarette on a Parisian terrace, taking the time to feel grateful for how far he’s come. He dreams of one day building a house in the woods. And why not? Here, the actor takes a moment to answer our questions about creative collaborators, his selective approach to choosing roles and his friendship with Patti Smith, giving us a rare glimpse into his mind and a chance to try and understand, who is the real Michael Pitt?
What are you doing in Paris at the moment?
That’s a good question. Why not? The French have been very supportive of me as an actor and artist since early on in my career. In my own country – by the way, I love my country – a lot of the films I was choosing were considered career suicide. I remember going to France for the first time and the journalists were not only aware of the choices I was making as a young actor but supporting them. The French gave me the courage to continue “suiciding” my career, and I’m very grateful for it as it was very far from suicide.
What are your favourite things to do or places to hang out in Paris?
It’s cliche but I like to go to a brasserie, have an entrecôte frites, some saucisson, foie gras and the best bread in the world with vin rouge and friends. Then have un double espresso, smoke cigarettes, talk about books, life, politics, and most importantly, love.
How did you and Hedi Slimane first meet? What has it been like working with him over the years?
When I met Hedi Slimane it was a long time ago in Brooklyn. Gus Van Sant called me and said his friend Hedi was gonna come to my loft and shoot some pictures. I told him I was recording with my band but that he was welcome. I didn’t know who Hedi was. He came over and was quiet and respectful, never disturbing anything that was going on. I told him to make himself at home and we started recording. He looked like a character out of a Jim Jarmusch film, skinny black jeans that were high above his ankles, black shoes. I don’t remember what camera he had around his neck, all I know is that he was there and not there at the same time. When he left, my band and I said, “Where did that guy go? He was so cool,” and we never said that about any photographer who came over. Later, I shot photos with him. He was the first photographer on a photoshoot who had ever said, “Don’t touch his hair, his clothes, his skin, I want to shoot him just how he is; come as you are.” We did a few shoots together. I was always proud of the pictures and as the years went by, you could see all the other photos that were taken just fell away and his remained. It’s the best way to meet an artist, so organically, and you discover their talent yourself. Not because someone told me who he was or what he did. He was just quiet Hedi to me and, as we got to know each other, I got to discover his talent.
Does getting dressed for public events ever feel like putting on a costume? What character are you playing?
I’m one of about 30 grandchildren on both sides of my family. Pitt and Demaio. That means a lot of baptisms, a lot of weddings, and a lot of funerals. This is usually when I put on a suit, when I have to shake a lot of hands and be polite. I look at press and red carpets a little bit like this, and depending on the project, it can feel like the birth of something or a marriage or even sometimes death.
You first met Patti Smith in London in the ‘00s. As artists, both of you have a creative output that is broader and more varied than the works you’re best known for. Can you tell me more about that friendship? Do you see yourselves as kindred spirits in a way?
I was with Jamie Bochert who was mortified as she was such a big fan of Patti. I went up to her to say hello and try to introduce them. When we spoke, I felt like I was talking to a good witch. She had long silver hair, a very striking but tough face, and a lazy eye that seemed to wander off as though it was looking constantly at the other side. Her voice was the voice of a 12-year-old girl. She seemed to be very kind and very strong and very wise; and also to know things about me that I didn’t know yet. I suppose that’s why we became friends.
If you could have three people living or dead at dinner, who would they be?
Caravaggio, Christopher Marlowe, and Stanley Kubrick; and the rest writes itself.
What is something you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it yet?
Having a pet raccoon, but that’s highly unlikely so I will say build a house in the woods. That’s a very good question and as soon as I’m done with this interview I’m walking into the woods. You have inspired me. Don’t tell my agents where I am.
What do you think of as your greatest accomplishment?
My name is Michael, I was born in New Jersey. When I was 6 years old, I was put in special education. I went to school on the bus every day of my short education career. If anyone taught me how to read it was my mother and she worked 15 hours a day for forty years. I went to four different high schools before I left for New York when I was 16. I was a bike messenger. I lived with my mentor for a while, and there was also a period of time when I was living on the street. I was a total failure in life. I was supposed to be nothing. I am now sitting at a café in Paris in the sixth arrondissement in St Germain. I have travelled the world. I have made over 20 films. I’ve worked with some of the greatest living filmmakers in the world. I have made films in Japan, China, France, the UK, Italy, and Africa. I have made beautiful friendships with people all over the world. I now even have my own family working in the industry. To say I’m blessed is a gross understatement. It was one in a million that I would survive and then one in a million that I would ever be a working actor. For a fuckup from Jersey, I would say it’s a pretty great accomplishment.
Who are your greatest musical influences?
Sonic Youth, PJ Harvey, Nirvana, and so many North and West African musicians that I cannot pronounce the names of embarrassingly. Forgive me.
Where do you think your impulse to create comes from?
It’s a mysterious question that deserves a mysterious answer. So I would say Jupiter.
What sacrifices do you feel you have made for your art? Is sacrifice necessary for good art?
I don’t think anything good is easy, and I would say art is no exception to that. I believe you don’t need to torture yourself to be a good artist, but that hasn’t been my personal experience.
What made you want to become an actor? Was there a particular moment or experience that inspired you?
I wanted to be a carpenter first, then a painter, then a singer. Then I saw Lawrence of Arabia and I wanted to be an actor.
Can you tell me a story from when you first moved to New York or from your early years in the city?
I could tell you 100 stories but you would 100% never believe me.
If you could experience New York at any moment of time in history, which time period would you most want to visit and why?
From everything I’ve heard from past generations and from living in New York for 20 years, I guess every moment and period seems to be equally incredible and terrible at the same time, so I would roll the dice on the time machine and I’m sure I would find it both horrible and fascinating.
Due to the competitive nature of creative industries, learning to say no is often something creative people find difficult, especially when they’re starting out. How did you learn when to say no and how has being selective benefited you?
Coming from humble beginnings and starting from the bottom has made me appreciate simple things. When you have nothing, you learn really quickly who is your friend because you have nothing to give them. If you surround yourself with people who have nothing to gain from you apart from your company, you won’t need projects that only bring you money and fame to feel secure about yourself and your work. That’s what makes it easier to say no. But to be honest, it’s never easy. A musician wants to play music, a painter wants to paint, an actor wants to act. It will always hurt a little bit to say no, even when it’s for the right reasons.
Who do you think of as your greatest creative collaborator?
Gus van Sant.
What is a good film you’ve watched recently?
The Pawnbroker by Sidney Lumet.
What’s next for you?
I have no idea but I’m ready for it.
Interview by Sophie Lou Wilson
Photography by Yaël Temminck
All clothes Celine Homme