Philippe Lesage discusses Who by Fire, the significance of imperfection, and what television can never take away from cinema.

      At the 2019 New Directors/New Films festival, I was profoundly impacted by Philippe Lesage’s emotionally resonant and creatively structured coming-of-age story, Genesis, which I ultimately included in my list of the top 10 films of that year. Now, five years later, the Quebecois director has returned with an impressive follow-up that further showcases his skill for developing well-crafted characters with a broader cast. Who by Fire is a rich, intimate, and psychologically compelling drama that follows two families on a remote retreat as they navigate career aspirations and romantic rivalries.

      I had a conversation with Lesage during his visit for the 62nd New York Film Festival premiere of the film last fall, and I'm now sharing our discussion in anticipation of Friday's opening at NYC’s Film at Lincoln Center and next week’s debut at LA’s Laemmle Theatres. We discussed his broadened narrative focus, his filming techniques, the differences between television and film, the music-infused scenes in his work, and his upcoming spiritual follow-up to Genesis.

      The Film Stage: Following Berlinale, did you make any modifications to the film? I noticed the runtime is a bit shorter.

      Philippe Lesage: It's five minutes shorter than that version.

      Ah, so you opted to reduce it slightly?

      Yes, it was an exercise I decided to undertake. Initially, I was resistant, mainly due to distribution issues in France. But honestly, a couple of minutes don’t make much difference whether it’s two hours and 25 minutes or two hours and 41 minutes. As I worked on it after watching it numerous times and observing audience reactions in Berlin, I started eliminating scenes that felt a bit long or prolonged. I genuinely enjoy the new version; I think it’s an improvement. I'm not sure if you noticed the difference.

      I only saw the new version, actually.

      Okay. I simplified some dream sequences, and I really prefer it because in the last dream, it remains unclear whether it’s Aliocha or Jeff who is dreaming. I find that intriguing. Noah [Parker, who plays Jeff] saw the new version last night and preferred it, as did my cinematographer who watched it in Paris. So I feel like I made a wise decision. It’s interesting to modify the film; I feel like a painter adjusting colors in a gallery where the artwork is already displayed.

      To start from the beginning, your previous two films primarily focused on adolescence. Although you maintain that theme here, two central characters are adults. What prompted you to delve deeper into adult characters?

      I’m not specifically trying to create films about teenagers. My first two films were largely autobiographical, revisiting my own youth. With this film, I thought it would be fascinating to shift the perspective. In my earlier films, adults were almost nonexistent, particularly in Genesis, where they’re barely acknowledged. There are teachers depicted, but I wanted to immerse myself in the experiences of the young people present and depict how they view the adults, even while sharing their stories. That’s the perspective I aimed to convey.

      I do critique adulthood and masculinity, symbolically questioning patriarchy as a whole. However, my films don’t start from an idea; it’s about characters and the story I want to tell. Both Genesis and this film have echoes of similar themes. I tend to explore subjects that probe deep feelings. I don’t hold back when it comes to portraying flaws; I find it essential to depict characters with imperfections. It’s much more engaging for me when characters have flaws, even in comedy, as they contribute to the humor. This shift is a transition toward perceiving still-young characters through the lens of adults.

      I truly appreciate the cinematography in your films. There’s a controlled warmth that draws viewers in, creating a sense that you’re sharing the cabin experience with the characters. This immersive quality heightens emotional investment, especially when their darker flaws surface. How do you determine the color palette and those beautiful crossfades?

      For me, cinema embodies atmosphere and mood. I often reflect on films I loved as a child; despite sometimes violent or challenging narratives, they contained an aspect that made you want to inhabit the world of the film. That’s what I aimed to create: the ambiance of that house, the surrounding woods, the color choices, and the lenses. We used Panavision lenses from the ’70s—classic lenses that may have been used for iconic films. It was essential to capture that texture.

      While I can't afford to shoot on film due to budget constraints—this being my largest budget to date, obviously—I typically do 20 takes on average for each shot, making film impractical. However, we sought ways to achieve a texture that wasn’t purely digital. With Balthazar Lab, our cinematographer for this project—who differs from my previous films’ cinematographer, Nicolas Canniccioni—we established the visual language early in the process. Texturing isn’t