She learnt about cinema the way others learn to read. As a child, Thalia Besson used to hang around on sets between takes. Far from the ‘daughter of’ label people would like to pin on her, she has forged her own path, calmly, in her own way. She came to the public’s attention in Emily in Paris, where she plays Geneviève, the new American who steps on Emily’s toes. A radiant role that stands in stark contrast to her other, darker, more profound roles. Beyond acting, she writes scripts, composes music and directs films. For her, art is not a stepping stone; it is a necessity, a language, a way of being.

Eve Sabbah: You grew up in the world of cinema. When did you realise that this would be your world too?

Thalia Besson: I think it happened naturally. I’ve always been immersed in it: my parents, film shoots, sets… As a child, I was often there, watching. Very quickly, I wanted to create things myself. I wrote, I filmed, I edited the little videos we made with my brother and sister. It was instinctive.

Your character in Emily in Paris, Geneviève, caused quite a stir. How did you find being in the spotlight like that?

T.B.: I found it amusing. Geneviève is an American who’s a bit too at ease, a bit too brilliant, who comes along and takes Emily’s place… Naturally, that makes people cringe. But I like that: playing characters who ruffle feathers, who unsettle people. I’ve been judged a lot in my life, so that kind of scrutiny doesn’t scare me. And besides, Geneviève is also a shell. Beneath it, there’s a real vulnerability. That’s what interested me.

You’re very inspired by music, particularly Eminem’s. Why him?

T.B.: I’ve been listening to him forever. He’s one of the few artists whose lyrics I know by heart, even without always understanding the English, especially when I was little. He has a unique way of playing with words, of being raw, real, unfiltered. He says the things we don’t dare to say. That made a big impression on me. I think that’s why I seek so much sincerity in what I do.

You often talk about fashion as if it were another language. Which designers inspire you?

T.B.: I studied at Parsons for a while, because I needed to explore that more deeply. I love Margiela, for his approach to identity and silence. I admire Vivienne Westwood for her sensitivity. And Chanel, of course, for its combination of rigour and freedom. These are houses that tell stories, not just clothes. For me, getting dressed is about putting on a show. It’s a form of play, but also of truth. I also have a very strong connection with Dessange, for whom I’m the face.

You seem drawn to darker, more complex roles. Why is that?

T.B.: Because that’s where I feel free. Characters who are too polished, too predictable, bore me. I like the grey areas, the contradictions, the hidden wounds. It’s those roles that challenge me, that teach me things about myself. And I need to be challenged.

Is there a character you’d dream of playing?

T.B.: There are plenty. But I’d love to play a great tragic female figure. A woman who unsettles, who makes her mark. I’d love to play a strong role in a biopic; someone like Aliyah [a singer and actress who died in 2001] would be an incredible role. Something intense, emotionally charged. I love characters that require you to dig deep.

You also direct your own films. Why?

T.B.: For the immense freedom it gives me. When I direct, I can really say what I want to say, without a filter, without compromise. I made my first short film with friends, with no budget, but with a lot of love. I shot it outdoors, with an old camera. I needed to get back to something essential.

How do you prepare for a role?

T.B.: I work a lot through immersion. I really get into it; I research my character, I create playlists, mood boards, collages. I imagine their childhood, their tastes, their fears. Sometimes I change my hairstyle or perfume just to get into their skin. It’s very sensory. I need the character to live within me even before filming begins.

What are you trying to convey through your work?

T.B.: Authenticity. Unease. Something that lingers. I like the idea that people leave a film with emotions they hadn’t anticipated. I’m not trying to please. I want it to move people. Even if it disturbs them.

And in ten years’ time, where do you see yourself?

T.B.: I hope I’ll continue to create, freely. That I’ll be able to switch between acting, directing and writing. And above all, that I’ll still be just as passionate and proud of what I do. As long as I can transform what I feel into something alive, I’m in the right place.

An article by Eve Sabbah. Read it in issue 14 of Oniriq Magazine.

Translated by Bethszabee Garner