Latest news with #JeanPaulBelmondo
Yahoo
3 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
The country that made smoking sexy is breaking up with cigarettes
PARIS (AP) — Brigitte Bardot lounged barefoot on a Saint-Tropez beach, drawing languorous puffs from her cigarette. Another actor, Jean-Paul Belmondo, swaggered down the Champs-Élysées with smoke curling from his defiant lips, capturing a generation's restless rebellion. In France, cigarettes were never just cigarettes — they were cinematic statements, flirtations and rebellions wrapped in rolling paper. Yet beginning July 1, if Bardot and Belmondo's iconic film scenes were repeated in real life, they would be subject to up to €135 ($153) in fines. After glamorizing tobacco for decades, France is preparing for its most sweeping smoking ban yet. The new restrictions, announced by Health Minister Catherine Vautrin, will outlaw smoking in virtually all outdoor public areas where children may gather, including beaches, parks, gardens, playgrounds, sports venues, school entrances and bus stops. 'Tobacco must disappear where there are children,' Vautrin told French media. The freedom to smoke 'stops where children's right to breathe clean air starts." If Vautrin's law reflects public health priorities, it also signals a deeper cultural shift. Smoking has defined identity, fashion and cinema here for so long that the new measure feels like a quiet French revolution in a country whose relationship with tobacco is famously complex. According to France's League Against Cancer, over 90 percent of French films from 2015 to 2019 featured smoking scenes — more than double the rate in Hollywood productions. Each French movie averaged nearly three minutes of on-screen smoking, effectively the same exposure as six 30-second television ads. Cinema has been particularly influential. Belmondo's rebellious smoker in Jean-Luc Godard 's 'Breathless' became shorthand for youthful defiance worldwide. Bardot's cigarette smoke wafted through 'And God Created Woman,' symbolizing unbridled sensuality. Yet this glamorization has consequences. According to France's public health authorities, around 75,000 people die from tobacco-related illnesses each year. Although smoking rates have dipped recently — fewer than 25% of French adults now smoke daily, a historic low — the habit remains stubbornly embedded, especially among young people and the urban chic. France's relationship with tobacco has long been fraught with contradiction. Air France did not ban smoking on all its flights until 2000, years after major U.S. carriers began phasing it out in the late 1980s and early '90s. The delay reflected a country slower to sever its cultural romance with cigarettes, even at 35,000 feet. Strolling through the stylish streets of Le Marais, the trendiest neighborhood in Paris, reactions to the smoking ban ranged from pragmatic acceptance to nostalgic defiance. 'It's about time. I don't want my kids growing up thinking smoke is romantic,' said Clémence Laurent, a 34-year-old fashion buyer, sipping espresso at a crowded café terrace. 'Sure, Bardot made cigarettes seem glamorous. But Bardot didn't worry about today's warnings on lung cancer.' At a nearby boutique, vintage dealer Luc Baudry, 53, saw the ban as an attack on something essentially French. 'Smoking has always been part of our culture. Take away cigarettes and what do we have left? Kale smoothies?' he scoffed. Across from him, 72-year-old Jeanne Lévy chuckled throatily, her voice deeply etched — she said — by decades of Gauloises. 'I smoked my first cigarette watching Jeanne Moreau,' she confessed, eyes twinkling behind vintage sunglasses. 'It was her voice — smoky, sexy, lived-in. Who didn't want that voice?' Indeed, Jeanne Moreau's gravelly, nicotine-scraped voice transformed tobacco into poetry itself, immortalized in classics such as François Truffaut's 'Jules et Jim.' Smoking acquired an existential glamour that made quitting unimaginable for generations of French smokers. France's new law mirrors broader European trends. Britain, Spain and Sweden have all implemented significant smoking bans in public spaces. Sweden outlawed smoking in outdoor restaurant terraces, bus stops and schoolyards back in 2019. Spain extended its bans to café terraces, spaces still exempt in France—at least for now. In the Paris park Place des Vosges, literature student Thomas Bouchard clutched an electronic cigarette that is still exempt from the new ban and shrugged. 'Maybe vaping's our compromise,' he said, exhaling gently. 'A little less sexy, perhaps. But fewer wrinkles too.'
The Independent
3 days ago
- Health
- The Independent
The country that made smoking sexy is breaking up with cigarettes
Brigitte Bardot lounged barefoot on a Saint-Tropez beach, drawing languorous puffs from her cigarette. Another actor, Jean-Paul Belmondo, swaggered down the Champs-Élysées with smoke curling from his defiant lips, capturing a generation's restless rebellion. In France, cigarettes were never just cigarettes — they were cinematic statements, flirtations and rebellions wrapped in rolling paper. Yet beginning July 1, if Bardot and Belmondo's iconic film scenes were repeated in real life, they would be subject to up to €135 ($153) in fines. After glamorizing tobacco for decades, France is preparing for its most sweeping smoking ban yet. The new restrictions, announced by Health Minister Catherine Vautrin, will outlaw smoking in virtually all outdoor public areas where children may gather, including beaches, parks, gardens, playgrounds, sports venues, school entrances and bus stops. 'Tobacco must disappear where there are children,' Vautrin told French media. The freedom to smoke 'stops where children's right to breathe clean air starts." If Vautrin's law reflects public health priorities, it also signals a deeper cultural shift. Smoking has defined identity, fashion and cinema here for so long that the new measure feels like a quiet French revolution in a country whose relationship with tobacco is famously complex. According to France's League Against Cancer, over 90 percent of French films from 2015 to 2019 featured smoking scenes — more than double the rate in Hollywood productions. Each French movie averaged nearly three minutes of on-screen smoking, effectively the same exposure as six 30-second television ads. Cinema has been particularly influential. Belmondo's rebellious smoker in Jean-Luc Godard 's 'Breathless' became shorthand for youthful defiance worldwide. Bardot's cigarette smoke wafted through 'And God Created Woman,' symbolizing unbridled sensuality. Yet this glamorization has consequences. According to France's public health authorities, around 75,000 people die from tobacco-related illnesses each year. Although smoking rates have dipped recently — fewer than 25% of French adults now smoke daily, a historic low — the habit remains stubbornly embedded, especially among young people and the urban chic. France's relationship with tobacco has long been fraught with contradiction. Air France did not ban smoking on all its flights until 2000, years after major U.S. carriers began phasing it out in the late 1980s and early '90s. The delay reflected a country slower to sever its cultural romance with cigarettes, even at 35,000 feet. Strolling through the stylish streets of Le Marais, the trendiest neighborhood in Paris, reactions to the smoking ban ranged from pragmatic acceptance to nostalgic defiance. 'It's about time. I don't want my kids growing up thinking smoke is romantic,' said Clémence Laurent, a 34-year-old fashion buyer, sipping espresso at a crowded café terrace. 'Sure, Bardot made cigarettes seem glamorous. But Bardot didn't worry about today's warnings on lung cancer.' At a nearby boutique, vintage dealer Luc Baudry, 53, saw the ban as an attack on something essentially French. 'Smoking has always been part of our culture. Take away cigarettes and what do we have left? Kale smoothies?' he scoffed. Across from him, 72-year-old Jeanne Lévy chuckled throatily, her voice deeply etched — she said — by decades of Gauloises. 'I smoked my first cigarette watching Jeanne Moreau,' she confessed, eyes twinkling behind vintage sunglasses. 'It was her voice — smoky, sexy, lived-in. Who didn't want that voice?' Indeed, Jeanne Moreau's gravelly, nicotine-scraped voice transformed tobacco into poetry itself, immortalized in classics such as François Truffaut's 'Jules et Jim.' Smoking acquired an existential glamour that made quitting unimaginable for generations of French smokers. France's new law mirrors broader European trends. Britain, Spain and Sweden have all implemented significant smoking bans in public spaces. Sweden outlawed smoking in outdoor restaurant terraces, bus stops and schoolyards back in 2019. Spain extended its bans to café terraces, spaces still exempt in France—at least for now. In the Paris park Place des Vosges, literature student Thomas Bouchard clutched an electronic cigarette that is still exempt from the new ban and shrugged. 'Maybe vaping's our compromise,' he said, exhaling gently. 'A little less sexy, perhaps. But fewer wrinkles too.'
Associated Press
3 days ago
- Health
- Associated Press
The country that made smoking sexy is breaking up with cigarettes
PARIS (AP) — Brigitte Bardot lounged barefoot on a Saint-Tropez beach, drawing languorous puffs from her cigarette. Another actor, Jean-Paul Belmondo, swaggered down the Champs-Élysées with smoke curling from his defiant lips, capturing a generation's restless rebellion. In France, cigarettes were never just cigarettes — they were cinematic statements, flirtations and rebellions wrapped in rolling paper. Yet beginning July 1, if Bardot and Belmondo's iconic film scenes were repeated in real life, they would be subject to up to €135 ($153) in fines. After glamorizing tobacco for decades, France is preparing for its most sweeping smoking ban yet. The new restrictions, announced by Health Minister Catherine Vautrin, will outlaw smoking in virtually all outdoor public areas where children may gather, including beaches, parks, gardens, playgrounds, sports venues, school entrances and bus stops. 'Tobacco must disappear where there are children,' Vautrin told French media. The freedom to smoke 'stops where children's right to breathe clean air starts.' If Vautrin's law reflects public health priorities, it also signals a deeper cultural shift. Smoking has defined identity, fashion and cinema here for so long that the new measure feels like a quiet French revolution in a country whose relationship with tobacco is famously complex. According to France's League Against Cancer, over 90 percent of French films from 2015 to 2019 featured smoking scenes — more than double the rate in Hollywood productions. Each French movie averaged nearly three minutes of on-screen smoking, effectively the same exposure as six 30-second television ads. Cinema has been particularly influential. Belmondo's rebellious smoker in Jean-Luc Godard 's 'Breathless' became shorthand for youthful defiance worldwide. Bardot's cigarette smoke wafted through 'And God Created Woman,' symbolizing unbridled sensuality. Yet this glamorization has consequences. According to France's public health authorities, around 75,000 people die from tobacco-related illnesses each year. Although smoking rates have dipped recently — fewer than 25% of French adults now smoke daily, a historic low — the habit remains stubbornly embedded, especially among young people and the urban chic. France's relationship with tobacco has long been fraught with contradiction. Air France did not ban smoking on all its flights until 2000, years after major U.S. carriers began phasing it out in the late 1980s and early '90s. The delay reflected a country slower to sever its cultural romance with cigarettes, even at 35,000 feet. Strolling through the stylish streets of Le Marais, the trendiest neighborhood in Paris, reactions to the smoking ban ranged from pragmatic acceptance to nostalgic defiance. 'It's about time. I don't want my kids growing up thinking smoke is romantic,' said Clémence Laurent, a 34-year-old fashion buyer, sipping espresso at a crowded café terrace. 'Sure, Bardot made cigarettes seem glamorous. But Bardot didn't worry about today's warnings on lung cancer.' At a nearby boutique, vintage dealer Luc Baudry, 53, saw the ban as an attack on something essentially French. 'Smoking has always been part of our culture. Take away cigarettes and what do we have left? Kale smoothies?' he scoffed. Across from him, 72-year-old Jeanne Lévy chuckled throatily, her voice deeply etched — she said — by decades of Gauloises. 'I smoked my first cigarette watching Jeanne Moreau,' she confessed, eyes twinkling behind vintage sunglasses. 'It was her voice — smoky, sexy, lived-in. Who didn't want that voice?' Indeed, Jeanne Moreau's gravelly, nicotine-scraped voice transformed tobacco into poetry itself, immortalized in classics such as François Truffaut's 'Jules et Jim.' Smoking acquired an existential glamour that made quitting unimaginable for generations of French smokers. France's new law mirrors broader European trends. Britain, Spain and Sweden have all implemented significant smoking bans in public spaces. Sweden outlawed smoking in outdoor restaurant terraces, bus stops and schoolyards back in 2019. Spain extended its bans to café terraces, spaces still exempt in France—at least for now. In the Paris park Place des Vosges, literature student Thomas Bouchard clutched an electronic cigarette that is still exempt from the new ban and shrugged. 'Maybe vaping's our compromise,' he said, exhaling gently. 'A little less sexy, perhaps. But fewer wrinkles too.'
The Guardian
17-05-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Nouvelle Vague – Richard Linklater bends the knee to Breathless and Jean-Luc Godard
Breathless, deathless … and pointless? Here is Richard Linklater's impeccably submissive, tastefully cinephile period drama about the making of Godard's debut 1960 classic À Bout de Souffle, that starred Jean Seberg and Jean-Paul Belmondo as the star-crossed lovers in Paris. Linklater's homage has credits in French and is beautifully shot in monochrome, as opposed to the boring old colour of real life in which the events were actually happening; he even cutely fabricates cue marks in the corner of the screen, those things that once told projectionists when to changeover the reels. But Linklater smoothly avoids any disruptive jump-cuts. It's a good natured, intelligent effort for which Godard himself, were he still alive, would undoubtedly have ripped Linklater a new one. (When Michel Hazanavicius made Redoubtable in 2017 about Godard's making of his 1967 film La Chinoise, the man himself called that 'a stupid, stupid idea'; Hazanavicius wasn't even making a film about Godard's first and biggest hit. Yet Linklater is of course unconsciously creating a stylistic homage – not to Godard, however, but to his much more emollient, accessible and Hollywood-friendly collaborator Francois Truffaut. Truffaut wrote the basic story for Breathless and thereby gave Godard his commercial success; it was based on a sensational true-crime story about a tough guy who shoots a cop and gets an American girlfriend on the run, grabbing at love and romance while he can, existentially aware that a cop-killer's days are numbered. The real-life characters of the Breathless story, from the most famous to the most obscure (this latter category being of course treated with rigorous superfan respect) are introduced with static portrait shots, gazing at the camera with their names flashed up on screen; even in the action itself, these people are often addressed by their full name with an awestruck sentence about their importance so we know where we are. Godard himself, a Cahiers Du Cinéma gunslinger-critic yearning to graduate to film-making, is played by newcomer Guillaume Marbeck, incessantly dropping epigrams and wisecracks and shruggingly dismissive pouts on the subject of cinema – and perhaps Godard was like this, at least some of the time. Linklater mischievously allows the audience to wonder if Godard will ever remove his sunglasses and get a 'beautiful librarian' moment, or at least a moment to confess that you shouldn't watch movies through dark glasses. Aubry Dillon plays Belmondo and Zoey Deutch is Seberg, forever breaking into fluent and Ohio-accented French. Adrien Rouyard is Truffaut, Matthieu Penchinat is the brilliant cinematographer Raoul Coutard whose news background in covering wars made him an inspired choice for Godard's guerrilla film-making adventures, Benjamin Clery is Godard's first assistant director Pierre Rissient and Bruno Dreyfürst is Godard's long-suffering producer George 'Beau Beau' Beauregard - whose disagreements with Godard over money lead to an undignified physical scuffle in a Paris cafe. The shoot begins, extended by Godard's haughtily capricious delays to accommodate authentic inspiration, as the actors amusingly say whatever they like to each other and the tyrannical director while the camera is turning, because everything is to be dubbed later in the studio. Continuity supervisor Suzon Faye (Pauline Belle) crossly tells Godard that his cavalier disregard for matching the eyelines in successive shots mean a problem in the edit; a hint of the imminent revolution in film grammar, perhaps, though Linklater's Godard has the humility to say he didn't invent jump-cuts. By the end, Linklater's Godard is as opaque and essentially imperturbable as he was in the beginning, seething with competitive anguish at the success of Truffaut's The 400 Blows in Cannes and struggling to get into parties and film sets; and again, none of this, arguably, is inaccurate. But it's all very smooth: a slick Steadicam ride through a historic, tumultuous moment. Nouvelle Vague screened at the Cannes film festival.
