Sound like a French person: “Mais ça, c’est la culture anglo-saxonne—typique!” (That’s textbook Anglo-Saxon culture for you!)
MASSES AND MOSQUES
Since the inception of Vatican II, France went from being la fille aînée de l’église (the first child of the Catholic Church) to being one of the least religious countries on earth. Among the general public, the Church went from being viewed as a profoundly respected and heeded institution to being an inaudible and questionable organization.
Over the past decades, institutional antireligiosity has characterized France. The Church and Christianity have been incessantly mocked and ridiculed. Believers were portrayed as gullible fools and clerics as pedophiles. Les Cathos remain in existence but are viewed more and more by the rest of the country as a backward, vaguely suspect group. Catholics in France are now viewed as being on the margins of society.
The subject of religion has vastly disappeared from the conversations of the French middle class. The bourgeoisie will occasionally indulge in discourses reflecting a very loose and malleable interpretation of religious dogma, picking what they fancy as if religion were a spiritual buffet. The shift is not only spiritual; it is also physical. In France, every year several churches—frequently old and beautiful ones—get demolished (typically under the pretense that maintenance is too expensive).* No matter how empty they are, the symbolic brutality of the destruction of those beautiful churches is devastating.
However, it would be mistaken to consider France as a country where religion is dying out. For while churches are being torn apart, mosques are being built at a steady pace: over the past decade, every week an average of one to two new mosques opened their doors in France.* While in 1976 there were only 150 mosques in France, there are now more than 2,200, with several hundred—some grandiose—being built as you read this text. In many areas of France, boucheries halal (halal butcheries) have become the only option for buying fresh meat. Heck, the meals served to the French national soccer team at the 2010 World Cup were halal. Witnessing a doubling of their sales when offering a halal menu, fast-food chain Quick decided to make a number of its restaurants halal-only.* While virtually inexistent thirty years ago, more than ten thousand kebab restaurants now sprinkle the French territory. Those complaining about the Americanization of France will be happy to learn that there are at least seven times more kebab joints than McDonald’s on French soil.
The tremendous surge of Islam is a response to the collapse of the Catholic Church.
Because Islam offers a sense of right and wrong and connects a certain French youth to an active and growing cause and community, it has gained tremendous ground in France recently. While official reports continue to claim that Catholicism is still the number one religion in France—which happens to be impossible to prove since the French state is prohibited from keeping such statistics—there is no doubt that if it is still the case (which is unlikely), it won’t be for long. In France, only 16 percent of practicing Catholics are under thirty-four years old, as opposed to 46 percent of Muslims.*
While most French people have entirely turned their backs on their Christian heritage and many openly mock Christianity and Christians, very few apply the same rhetoric to Islam. When it comes to the spread of Islam, the French people bold enough to vocalize their concern usually go to painstaking lengths to be sure everyone knows that “they respect Islam and Muslim people” and that “Islam is a religion of peace” or that “faith is a wonderful thing.” Needless to say, they do not go through such trouble before bashing Christianity. Nothing says strong people like double standards, and deference to mask fear.
Useful tip: In order to sound like you know what you’re doing in a kebab joint, just mention salade, tomates, oignons as if it were entirely obvious. Extra points if you add sauce samouraï!
Sound like a French person: “Mais ça a rien à voir avec l’Islam, ça. Et les Croisades?!” (This has nothing to do with Islam! And what about the Crusades, then?!)
LA MONDIALISATION
French people love to debate grandiose notions and vague concepts. La mondialisation (globalization) is clearly no exception.
Should you be imprudent enough to engage in such a conversation with French people, make sure to get your sword out—things are about to get heated.
The natural inclination of most French people is to see any new phenomenon, particularly if it has to do with the economy, as a threat. Engulfed in their negativity, very few French people are able to see opportunities in the changing times. Consequently, 78 percent of French people have a negative opinion of globalization.* This staggering number undoubtedly highlights the deep defiance many French people have developed toward the capitalist model.
When hearing the term mondialisation, the French mind gets overwhelmed with images of factories being closed down, sensations of the French language disappearing, mild fears of terrible pollution, and contaminated food flooding the market. Very few think about affordable cell phones, flat-screen TVs, more efficiency in their jobs, cheap vacations, and many other conveniences of modern life that the French are as quick to enjoy as anyone else.
The French struggle to reconcile the fact that they want the latest iPhone at a low price but that they’re not happy when factories shut down in France. They feel that more openness means that ultimately they will get the worst end of the deal. The French have indoctrinated themselves into thinking that change typically results in being worse off. Their ability to adapt collectively is suffering. All the more so as the country is chasing off its talent at an alarming pace. In this new context, France’s ability to create new jobs and new industries has proven to be rather disappointing.
In France, the concern over the topic of globalization holds less true among the younger generation who was born into it. They learned, to their detriment, that the post–World War II modèle social that previous generations were so keen to defend and preserve had nothing good or realistic to offer them. Faced with very high unemployment rates, most younger French people are struggling to find relevance or interest in pursuing a collective—and even less so national—destiny. The idea of saving French culture from globalization doesn’t occur to them—their culture and their world are already global.
Useful tip: Look into the work of Pierre Rabhi.
Sound like a French person: “Mais le modèle de la mondialisation hyper libérale, c’est horrible.” (But the model of ultracapitalist globalization is a terrible thing.)
FRENCH CINEMA
The French have had a long love story with cinema. From the Lumière brothers, who invented it, to Max Linder—whom Charlie Chaplin viewed as his master—to the rise of la Nouvelle Vague (the New Wave) and all the way to the current French excellence in animation, the French have frequently been at the forefront of the world of film.
France has more movie theater screens than any other European country,* as well as a sizable movie production scene.
However, while in the U.S. the movie industry is a thriving business, in France it’s a vastly rigged game, played with copious amounts of taxpayers’ money. The money is distributed (either directly or indirectly) by l’État français through the Centre National du Cinéma, different regions, tax credits, tax loopholes, industry trade groups, and so forth in amounts well into the nine digits per year. In France, approximately €400 million of taxpayers’ money are generously given away each year, officially to support le septième art (the seventh art).*
In reality, however, as in most systems where massive amounts of public money are injected, the reality is slightly less poetic: lack of financial accountability, a sense of self-importance, and systemic copinage (cronyism) abound. The result: films that are—surprise, surprise—expensive to make! Your average French movie costs €5.4 million (about $6.1 million) to make, as compared with an average €3 million (about $3.4 million) for an independent American movi
e. One of the most striking examples of this system is the silly amount of money paid to leading French actors: a well-known French producer recently broke the omertà and revealed how a French actor can be paid five times more in France than in the U.S. for a production that generates ten times less revenue.* Same goes for leading directors: a French B-lister like Philippe Lioret can be paid far more for a movie than American A-listers like Steven Soderbergh or Darren Aronofsky. It does seem fair indeed that an Alsatian plumber or a Normand baker’s tax money would be used to cut huge checks to people making unsuccessful movies.
Understanding where the money comes from and how it’s distributed helps understand all the clichés associated with French films. The buffer of public money renders making successful movies less of a gamble—and less of an objective: if millions consider your typical French movie to be boring and pretentious, it is because there’s a good chance it is. Why care so much about the audience when the financial ecosystem is one based vastly on obtaining public funds in order to reach a very cushy break-even point? Add to this the fact that public subsidies put a certain editorial spin on the choice of the movies being produced, and you’ll find that more and more French movies come into existence because they are ultimately in line with the new official ideological bias of our times.
This fact explains the decline of French cinema, which now is primarily made not by striking talents or uncompromised artists, but instead primarily by conformists, neck benders, and schmoozers. Consequently, while until the seventies French actors, directors, and movies were revered by most movie buffs in the world, it is no longer the case. A vast majority of recent French movies no longer impress (Le Mépris, 1963), they no longer provoke intelligently (La Grande Bouffe, 1973) or criticize profoundly (Playtime, 1967), they have ceased to launch gorgeous French actors (where are the Brigitte Bardots and the Alain Delons of the 2000s?) or offer inspiring dialogues (Les Tontons Flingueurs, 1963).
As is frequently the case in France, the domestic movie industry is a good example of how public money, while typically used for goals presented as noble, is captured by a small group that profits from it while conveying—often obviously so—the narrative that the people cutting the checks wish to push onto the general public.
Ideas for a few relatively recent French movies worth watching, followed by their English-language titles where available:
COMEDIES
Intouchables (The Untouchables)
Le dîner de cons (The Dinner Game)
Le Père Noël est une ordure (Santa Claus Is a Stinker)
Les Bronzés (French-Fried Vacation)
DRAMAS
La maladie de Sachs (Sachs’ Disease)
Les choristes (The Chorus)
De battre mon coeur s’est arrêté (The Beat That My Heart Skipped)
DOCUMENTARIES
Être et avoir (To Be and to Have)
Tabarly
Solutions locales pour un désordre global (Think Global, Act Rural)
Microcosmos (Microcosmos)
THRILLERS
Ne le dis à personne (Tell No One)
Mesrine: L’ennemi public #1 (Mesrine: Public Enemy #1)
OTHER
Le fabuleux destin d’Amélie Poulain (Amélie)
Bernie (Bernie)
Useful tip: French movies that make it overseas are usually worth it.
Sound like a French person: “Je préfère les films américains. Les films français, c’est bon quoi . . . ultra chiants!” (I prefer American movies. French movies are such a drag . . . so boring!)
THE ENGLISH 180
A few years ago, the French did not care much to speak English. They valued their language and culture and viewed it as strong enough that there was no point going through the hassle of having to speak (or learn) the language of their British archnemeses.
This very French mix of ignorance, attachment to the past, and misplaced arrogance bewildered many foreigners and gave the French a well-deserved reputation.
However, those days are long gone. When it comes to the English language, France has done a complete 180 as of late. Speaking English is no longer suspicious or traitorous—to millions it has become edgy and cool.
When interacting with foreigners, most French people will now be very eager to switch to English right away. Younger French people are particularly keen to display their English skills. The fact that most speak, understand, or write it rather terribly is irrelevant. Who cares about grammar when you can be cool?
The world of French media adopted words like news, fashion, people, and stars while the French corporate world has adopted feedback, slides, boss, and meeting—among many, many more such examples.
One of the most amusing consequences of this phenomenon is titles of American movies. While a few years back the majority of these titles were translated, and occasionally poorly so, it is now less and less frequently the case. For example, Star Wars came out in France under the title La guerre des étoiles (one star and several wars in English; several stars and one war in French). Even better: a recent French phenomenon is that more and more American (or British) movies in France are given a different, more simplistic English title.
Original Title
Title in France
The Hangover
Very Bad Trip
Silver Linings Playbook
Happiness Therapy
Knight and Day
Night and Day
Runaway Bride
Just Married
Date Night
Crazy Night
Killers
Kiss & Kill
Get Him to the Greek
American Trip
Youth in Revolt
Be Bad
Anger Management
Self-Control
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
Indian Palace
School of Rock
Rock Academy
Phone Booth
Phone Game
Into the Storm
Black Storm
Dumbed-down and simplified English, pronounced with a fabulously French accent, is growing to be the new official language at French movie theaters. Now English surely lures a number of French people. But add the word sex to the equation and you have yourself a real attention catcher.
Original Title
Title in France
No Strings Attached
Sex Friends
Not Another Teen Movie
Sex Academy
EuroTrip
Sex Trip
Wild Things
Sex Crimes
What’s Your Number?
(S)ex List
Step Up
Sexy Dance
Ultimately, English in France is cool. Therefore, it sells.
Advertising in France has caught on to this phenomenon and has been introducing more and more campaigns with English terms. The epitome of this phenomenon and its efficiency can be seen in one of the strongest advertising campaigns of the past decade in France: George Clooney sipping on a cup of Nespr
esso, looking deep into the eye of the camera, and with his deepest, sexiest voice, saying, “What else?” The result: one billion cups of Nespresso are now drunk in France each year. France accounts for 25 percent of Nespresso’s business worldwide.
A star hollywoodienne speaking to them in English is not something most French people are physically or mentally equipped to resist.
One might think that the result of this new French obsession with English would be a vastly improved command of the English language in France. Not quite: in Europe these days, it turns out, no other country speaks English as poorly as the French!*
Many foreigners feel upset or disappointed when their attempts at speaking French in France are met with responses in English. They assume the French lack patience or appreciation, but in reality, they simply underestimate how cool English has become on Gallic soil!
Useful tip: When speaking English with a French person, it’s always best to use “international English” (slower enunciation, more simple vocabulary).
Sound like a French person: “Lui, il parle américain, non?” (He speaks American, right?)
AFRICANIZATION
A vast majority of the immigrants who have established themselves in France since the 1970s originate from Africa. Among immigrants of African descent living in France, there are two main categories of origins:
Arabs from North Africa (Algeria, Morocco, Tunisia)
Blacks from sub-Saharan Africa (Senegal, Ivory Coast, Mali, Gabon, Benin, etc.)
WTF?!--What the French Page 8
