How Jérémy Comte’s Oscar-Nominated Fauve Conjures the Nightmare of Boyhood

Olivier Gossot, my DP, worked very closely with me to find the right aesthetic. We’ve been collaborating for eight years, I think, mostly on commercials. We shot on an Alexa Mini with vintage Super Speed Zeiss lenses. In the beginning I used a light handheld camera on a gimbal, which was kept low to bring in spectators as if they were children themselves. Then when the film hits a point of no return, it switches to crane movements and a locked-off tripod to accentuate a feeling of claustrophobia. It was important for me that the image felt dusty and gritty, almost like the lens itself was dirty, because I wanted to reflect a naïve and cruel childhood.

It is porridge! The special effects supervisor dug a hole that was chest-deep for Alexandre, reinforcing the bottom and side walls with a wood structure, and then filling it with a porridge mixed with some local dirt. Alexandre had to fake going deeper by bending his knees, so really the quicksand was all an illusion—he couldn’t go too deep. Originally, we also wanted to put a hydraulic platform that would allow the actor to sink at a controlled speed, but later we realized that the oatmeal was thick enough for our desired effect. We had a stunt coordinator and a medic helping us to constantly ensure his safety and well-being. The real problem was that it was cold inside the hole, so we took Alexandre’s temperature after every take, and we had to stop at one point because he was getting too cold.

When I was shooting, I didn’t plan any more shots for safety or alternate versions. I really edited the film in my head prior to the shoot so it was a very quick process to edit it. I feel this requires a lot more work and reflection in preproduction, but when everything becomes clear, it makes the process a lot easier. To find the right rhythm to build the tension in the quicksand scene was the most difficult. I had to get some distance from it and ask a lot of outside opinions. When I do that I’m looking mainly for emotional responses, not always solutions. I’m trying to find out how the audience felt at a particular moment and not necessarily what they would do to make it better. I’m always looking for recurrent notes from different people. That helped me to tighten the quicksand scene a lot and build the tension better, so no frames were wasted.

Brian D’Oliveira did an amazing composition on Fauve. I had the pleasure to assist on the recording, in his wonderful studio full of instruments. The music is a portal into the protagonist’s state of mind, representing his distress and anxiety. Tyler’s thoughts are racing in all directions as they fluctuate in intensity. It’s as if he’s trapped in this infinite pattern of being completely overwhelmed, then being able to calm himself for a second before his thoughts spin out of control again. We started by creating a repetitive loop on the computer, gradually moving the tempo up and down to accentuate that shifting intensity. Because the film is very minimalist, I wanted to use as few instruments as possible. I was very inspired by Colin Stetson’s work. We only used three different types of clarinets to bring depth and texture, and Brian played them all live with us. It was a very organic approach to creating the soundtrack.