After opening Last Breath [+lee también:
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ficha de la película] to warm acclaim at the 72nd San Sebastián International Film Festival, Greek-French director Konstantinos "Kostas" Gavras now takes his latest work to the 35th edition of the Stockholm International Film Festival. Known to, and cherished in, the cinema world simply as Costa-Gavras, the resilient 91-year-old filmmaker behind titles like Z, Missing and Music Box also received this year’s Stockholm Lifetime Achievement Award, and he seems noticeably pleased to be honoured in what he calls a unique cinema country.

Cineuropa: Last time you were interviewed by Cineuropa, you were presenting your previous film Adults in the Room [+lee también:
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ficha de la película] at Venice, simultaneously being presented with the Glory to the Filmmaker Award. We’re now in Stockholm, and the scenario is somewhat similar: a new work, a new distinguished career award. Do you work from necessity these days, or only when a story really moves you to film it?
Costa-Gavras: Both. What would I do if I didn’t make movies? But after a certain age, it’s more difficult. There’s nothing wrong with either the imagination or the method, but there’s the energy that the movie needs from the director; it has to be there all the time, for everyone on set. At a certain age, it’s difficult to be up at 6 am every morning and be in constant motion the whole day.

The book Le dernier souffle : Accompagner la fin de vie (lit. “The Last Breath. Accompanying the End of Life”) by Régis Debray and Claude Grange was published in France last year. What drew you into adapting it?
Régis Debray, who is a friend of mine, sent me the book. At my own age, for some years, I’ve been thinking about the end from time to time; I’ve reached the point where it’s closing in. So many friends around me are dying – I’m the only one left from Z these days, after Jacques Perrin went in 2022. So, I was thinking about how things will end, hopefully in a “nice” situation, with no suffering but with dignity. The book spoke of these things, and I decided to adapt it.

The synopsis calls it “a poetic ballet”, which is an intriguing description…
Yes! That’s exactly how I hope I’ve made it.

Your ensemble cast is impressive, with talents like Ángela Molina, Hiam Abbas and Charlotte Rampling, to name a few, some in small but potent parts. Are some of them also old friends of yours?
Some, yes; some I didn’t know. But Charlotte I knew, and I went to her. “I have the smallest part of your career here. Would you like to read it?” “Certainly,” she said. And she wanted to do it, to my surprise and joy. The amazing part was that while writing the script, I happened to see her picture in a recent magazine and actually used that picture as inspiration for the very character she came to play.

Are you planning a new film these days?
I am [laughs].

You still have a few years left to close in on Manoel de Oliveira.
Ah, yes. As you may know, I’m the president of the Cinémathèque Française, and we had him over when he turned 100; he’d just made a movie. “See you in a year, Manoel,” I said, and the next year he was back, with another movie. I don’t quite see myself “beating” him, though.

He used to say that his favourite movie year was 1927-28, watching Sunrise, The Passion of Joan of Arc and Napoléon. What’s your own favourite period?
He’s right, you know. We recently restored Napoléon at the cinémathèque, and it’s still extraordinary. My own best period was in Paris in the mid-1950s, discovering another kind of cinema: the American movies by Elia Kazan; the Italian ones, which were a pleasure to watch and at the same time spoke about society; the French ones, which were turning into the Nouvelle Vague; and also Swedish and northern cinema, a different and amazing type that small countries were able to do. It was unique. The Nouvelle Vague learned so much from directors like Bergman and others.

You have, to date, directed 20 features. Your great “hit” is still Z, remembered and poignant to this day. What are you most proud of yourself, in your filmography?
Hannah K., about the Israel-Palestine conflict, has become important to me – especially having made it then, in 1983. It says something that’s still there. Otherwise, I prefer it when others tell me about encountering my movies. Or even when they sing them. I recently had dinner with an Iranian director, Nader Saeivar, who suddenly burst into the theme from Z. That moved me deeply.