SOLO paints the portrait of a passionate man undermined by a tempestuous romance that comes undone and a frail maternal bond that he romanticizes. How did you come up with the idea of exploring these toxic relationships?

First and foremost, because I’m fascinated by human psychology. I wanted to portray a toxic relationship and explore its inner workings, root causes, repercussions, and the reasons why a person might allow themself to be mistreated by someone they love. I wanted to do this with compassion and find ways to understand everyone, without pointing any fingers at so-called ‘villains’ or ‘victims.’ As a screenwriter, it was a wonderful challenge to extend so much love to all parties involved in these types of relationships.

I was fortunate enough to be accompanied by a psychologist who served as a script consultant. I had so many questions and didn’t want my life experience or judgment to interfere too much with my depiction of reality. For instance, I wanted to know how Simon’s character could come to the realization that he was trapped in two toxic relationships. She couldn’t give me a definitive answer that applied to every story, but she did share something that motivated me to bring this film to fruition. She told me that many people become aware they’re in a toxic relationship when they watch a film that depicts the same type of dynamic they’re in. According to her, cinema can serve as the catalyst to their recovery. With that, the idea of making a worthwhile contribution with SOLO became a driving force for the actors and me.

You’ve been contemplating putting drag culture in the spotlight for a long time. You’ve spoken about your ‘intense admiration’ and even ‘obsession’ for this milieu. Why is that?

I’ve always been interested in the LGBTQIA2+ community and its struggles, especially the freedom to express one’s gender identity however one may choose. I’ve always found particularly heartbreaking people’s intolerance towards something so personal. We’re only talking about freedom when it comes to LGBTQIA2+ issues and gender identity.

As for drag artists, some would argue they are spokespersons – role models for queer people who feel different and misunderstood. That’s an incredible form of civic engagement that profoundly moves me. The art of drag also thumbs its nose at the oppressor. Performers reclaim and celebrate aspects of their identity sometimes used to denigrate them (their femininity, for instance). The mere act of taking to the stage in drag can become a manifesto or a heartfelt appeal for freedom. So I wanted to make a film in which drag was a pretext, something my characters were passionate about, without having everything revolve around it.

SOLO pays particular attention to costumes, hair, and make-up. Early in pre-production, you selected the music for your characters’ drag numbers, thus setting in motion the creation of their accompanying looks and choreographies. What aesthetic considerations did you have in mind?

SOLO is my love letter to drag culture, and I wanted it to be fittingly glorious and sumptuous. That said, creating dazzling costumes, elaborate choreographies and over thirty sculpted, voluminous wigs takes months of work. Our film’s craftspeople had to take inspiration from the chosen songs – namely “I’m Every Woman” by Chaka Khan and “Voulez-vous” by ABBA – and everyone had to work in close collaboration. It was the most preparation I’d ever done on a feature! Surprisingly, planning for a film about drag artists turned out to be much more complex than a film about miners.

We also cast the film quite early on because I wanted my actors to take dance lessons and create their drag persona. I gladly offered some pointers, but I didn’t want to impose a style on them. Choreographer Gerard X Reyes, one of the founders of Montreal’s kiki ballroom scene, also helped my actors discover their inner drag artist.

Your approach to casting was deliberately inclusive, both for actors and extras. Could you elaborate on that?

My casting director and I put out a call to talent agencies, specifying that we were interested in meeting their LGBTQIA2+ members. Some immediately understood our approach, while others were a bit more reluctant. I’m proud to say that we stuck to our guns. We met with everyone who expressed an interest, and decided from the get-go that we would change the gender of certain characters if needed. What matters to me in auditions isn’t any set-in-stone idea I might have about a character, but rather each actor’s perception and interpretation of them. Some people got emotional when sharing that it was the first audition where they didn’t have to conceal their sexual orientation. That was not only deeply moving but it also only made me want to double-down on our inclusive approach. 

Your filming locations included Complexe Sky, a legendary bar in Montreal’s Gay Village that was completely transformed for SOLO. Can you tell us more about the choice of this location? 

A set of circumstances conspired to bring us to shoot at this iconic Gay Village venue. Above all, we wanted to create an environment on set where trust, safety, and a celebration of queerness prevailed. It was particularly moving for our cast and crew to feel as though they could fully assert their queer identity and dress as they wished to. As our shoot progressed, the queer people behind the camera began feeling safe enough to express their gender identity. With each passing day, people felt a little freer. It’s wonderful that we were able to collectively create this safe space.

During rehearsals, you always encourage actors to further flesh out the characters you initially imagined on paper. Why is that?

Actors have always been at the heart of my practice, and it would be such a waste to overlook their valuable contributions. I eagerly await the moment in rehearsals when an actor surpasses me in their grasp and mastery of the character. From then on, when they tell me: “I want to convey something in the scene in this or that way,” we talk about it, and I often decide to follow their lead. On SOLO, Théodore created a more provocative, less gentle Simon than what I’d originally imagined, and he was right. I’m concerned with the truth and authenticity of the world we create together.

This marks your third collaboration in as many features with actor Théodore Pellerin. Would it be fair to describe him as your “muse”?

Absolutely. Working with Théodore is quite exceptional. His outlook on characters has always moved me – his love for them. Often, actors working with Théodore will tell me that they were treated to a master class in acting while rehearsing with him. He brings enthusiasm and a kind of obsession to his projects. When he commits to something, it becomes his life for a while. I find that beautiful. We’ve come a long way in our collaboration: I know that when he points something out to me, he’s right. When I tell him to trust me, he abandons himself. I’d describe us as co-creators more than an actor/director duo. It’s hard to explain, but you rarely come across actors like Théodore over the course of your career.

How did you come to cast Félix Maritaud for the part of Olivier?

I really like the fact that he’s not just a superbly talented actor, but also a queer activist who always finds the right words and strikes the right tone when tackling LGBTQIA2+ topics in the media. I really like the tough yet tender energy he exudes, which is both self-assured and unashamed. He’s fearless and that leaves me in awe. Plus, he’s wildly charismatic. So I was confident he could embody a magnetic Olivier that would sweep the character of Simon off his feet.

Since Family First, your films have delivered extreme emotional experiences and your characters have left an indelible mark. How do you explain this approach?

With my body of work, I want viewers to connect emotionally with realities they are not familiar with. I believe the best way to achieve this is to subject characters we’ve grown fond of – but who are very different from us – to extreme situations. If viewers react with empathy to what a character is going through, especially one who doesn’t resemble them, that’s when we can truly connect with the human being, open our hearts, and change our outlook on things. We can no longer look at a community that has been marginalized by society in the same way, because we’ve experienced something really powerful with them. And that’s when we put an end to attitudes of the “why would I pay social services for so-and-so” and “why would I support the rights of such-and-such” variety. And that, ultimately, is why I firmly believe in the power of cinema to change lives.