Roy Dupuis in paradise

After appearances in the films of Binamé and Arcand, Roy Dupuis officially comes back to his friends, in the person of Jack Paradise, a pianist who falls madly in love with jazz in the multi-racial Montreal of the 30s, 40s, 50s and 60s. Happy with another try at auteur cinema, he talks to us, comfortably and simply.

In the costume of Jack Paradise, one of our greatest actors finds his way home and goes back to the attractions of auteur cinema.

A Gauloise hanging from his lip and a twinkle in his eye, Roy Dupuis and his unfailing two-day beard (how does he do it?) comes across like a regular guy from Amos, certainly not a declared demi-god, above his station. You just need to know how to take it easy and not to try on any journalistic U-turns with our national Alexis. After a long spell in the English-speaking world, Dupuis returns to catch up with his family and friends: “My first reaction after four and a half years in an American series (Nikita) was to come home. It’s my choice. The international opportunities are still there, but there are still plenty of people I haven’t worked with. I can’t feel cramped in Quebec as long as I continue to read scripts that turn me on,” he admits.

At 40, he’s certainly not starting all over again. While recognising that the part of Ovila Pronovost was a golden opportunity to propel his career, Dupuis is neither relying on his angelic looks nor resting on his laurels. Without hesitation he enters the world - often without colossal budgets – of young auteurs; recently Jeremy Peter Allen (Manners of Dying) and shortly Francis Leclerc (Mémoires affectives). He is about to film with André Forcier (at the mere mention of the name of the author of Bar salon a smile breaks out on his face) and continues to give us, bit by bit, one move at a time, traces of his exceptional talent, without looking to take stock. “I came into this profession by chance, and I progress through it at random. The job is all in the detail and in the surprises. I don’t regret my choices because I always know why I’ve accepted at the outset. I can on the other hand regret the result.  These days the game becomes dull when I start to ask myself if I’m on a project because I’m the ideal person for the part, or if I’m the ideal person … to ensure the film gets funded. I always ask the author of a screenplay that I like, “Why me?”