“She’s not a bitch, she’s just French” is a phrase I have heard repeated over and over again in the 15 years since I moved to England. Like when I suggested my ex-boyfriend’s mate Henry see an orthodontist. Or when I asked “then why does she wear such cheap clothes?” after discovering an acquaintance of ours earned an astronomical income.
And these were the words that sprung to mind this week as I watched Eva Green’s court case unfold. The French actress sued a British production company to recover her fee for a defunct sci-fi movie, and is now being counter sued for being, effectively, obstructive and uncooperative. Which, to be fair, does sound extremely French. Part of the evidence used in the case are private WhatsApp exchanges between the Parisian native and her agent, in which she accused the film crew of being “shitty peasants from Hampshire” and the executive producer of being “pure vomit”. She defended herself by claiming, “I have a very direct way of saying things… it’s my Frenchness coming out”. Or in other words – I’m not a bitch, I’m just French.
I grew up in a small rural village in Brittany, western France, in a distinctly British household. We lived in an English microcosm complete with English food, language, customs, and behaviour but the moment we stepped outside, we became French. As we boarded the bus to our local école, we seamlessly transitioned into des petites françaises speaking an irreproachable French, listening to Ophélie Winter and arguing over who would win Graines de Star. This total immersion in two cultures and the daily flip from one to the other is at the heart of my work as a comedian.
The stereotype of the blunt French person is an accepted trope amongst the Brits. For instance, using “pardon my French” after an expletive is a quick get-out-of-jail-free card. Yes, we should all be wary of clichés, but as someone who has split her life evenly between both countries, I can confirm that the French are – to put it diplomatically – unapologetic in expressing their opinion.
Does that therefore mean French people are rude? Well, relatively speaking, and according to a British sensitivity, probably yes. When I returned to France after my first term at uni, I told my friend Maeva that I had gained weight and she simply replied “yes, you have”. It was empirically true and she acknowledged it. If this had slipped out of the mouth of an English friend, they would have followed it up with a reassuring statement such as “but you look great” or “it really suits you” before apologising profusely and self-flagellating themselves into oblivion.
The unexpected revelation for me in this whole Eva Green affair isn’t that the French are “rude” but that the British actually love it. Just take one look at Twitter and the chorus of “Queen Eva Green” and “I wish she’d call me a peasant”. We have come to expect haughty insulting behaviour from the French and we want nothing less. If I go to a restaurant in Paris and I receive anything other than scathing looks and condescending replies, then I’m dubious of its authenticity. If you are not interrupted by a waiter shouting at the chef mid-way through you placing your order and barking “addition” at a colleague, are you even in Paris?
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The rudeness of the French can ultimately be attributed to a greater acceptance of confrontation. When you share your honest opinion, you open yourself up to the distinct possibility of a disagreement, an argument. And that, for the English, is kryptonite.
In fact, in a bid to avoid any type of conflict, the British have elaborated a complex system to express their point of view in a way that is subtle enough to not reasonably justify any form of confrontation: passive aggression.
As much as the blunt rudeness of the French can be jarring for a Brit, spare a thought for a French person moving to the UK and finding themselves in the shifting landscape of subtext. “I would love for you to come to my wedding but I know you’re really busy and probably won’t be able to make it so I’ve not invited you to save you the embarrassment”. Quoi?
So call Eva Green what you want; rude, blunt, honest, brave… This is the energy I am taking into 2023. This year rather than shying away from my French outbursts I am going to lean into them so that next time I find myself on the receiving end of a passive aggressive email, I will simply be asking myself – what would Eva Green do?
Tatty Macleod is a comedian and improviser