Paparazzi

You arrived in Capri at 5:00

in the evening on May 1 7, 1 963.

You were in Capri to film

the exteriors for Contempt,

Jean-Luc Godard's film adaption

of a novel by Alberto Moravia.

In Capri at the same time

and for the same reason were

Fritz Lang,

Jack Palance,

Michel Piccoli

and Giorgia Moll.

Each morning you'd go to an isolated spot

on the southeast tip of the island.

There stands a villa that once belonged

to the Italian author Curzio Malaparte,

where the last part of Contempt

was to be shot.

On the terrace...

indoors...

or in the immediate surroundings.

Built on a rocky promontory,

the villa was an ideal work setting.

One path led

from the village of Capri,

but access by sea was easier.

It was practically impossible to approach

without permission from the production.

Soldiers under the direction

of Commander Ventrone

patrolled the surrounding area.

The only chance for the curious

was to approach by sea,

or to observe from a distance

with binoculars.

Brigitte Bardot is the most

photographed woman in the world.

Brigitte Bardot is the most

photographed woman in the world.

And if the most photographed woman

in the world comes to your neighborhood,

you and your family

simply must go and meet her.

Kindly keep your distance.

Please. We're working here.

There she is!

Bye, beautiful!

Once again from the top, please.

Naples, May 1 7.

Half an hour before sailing for Capri.

The ship's not yet at the dock.

Brigitte's in the car

and would like to get out.

Everyone takes pictures of the

Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe,

and everyone takes pictures

of Brigitte Bardot.

Why this camera mania?

It's notjust ''BB''the actress

that fascinates the crowds,

but ''BB''in real life.

''BB''works as well in a newspaper headline

as on a movie marquis,

and for some years now, Brigitte Bardot

has played nonstop the role of...

Because the public asks it ofher,

Brigitte kindly plays the part.

She opens her door

and invites you in.

Well-mannered people know to leave

when the moment has come.

There's a certain kind of press

that has no manners,

that will peek through the keyhole

of a locked door

and tell what they see,

even if they see nothing.

They'll print pictures that say

just what they want them to say.

The important thing is

to get the picture.

In Italy all this has given rise

to the strange characters called:

May 20, the Villa Malaparte.

Godard finishes setting up

the next shot.

You relax and lie in the sun.

The sound engineer horses around.

We'll rehearse in a moment.

Places, everyone.

Godard comes to get you.

In this shot, Michel Piccoli,

playing your husband-

Why do you despise me?

Tell me or I'll hurt you.

Why hurt me on top of it?

You decide to get revenge.

Jicky Dussart, the photographer

on the shoot, captures this moment...

as well as the next,

in which Michel Piccoli,

seeking forgiveness,

helps you up the steps.

But that May afternoon,Jicky's camera

was not the only one in action.

These hastily snapped photos

are of poor quality.

Nevertheless, certain newspapers

will find them precious documents,

or perhaps just profitable.

You'd like to have the right,

like everyone else,

to lower your head

when descending the stairs

so as to avoid missing a step.

But if a telephoto lens is hidden

behind rocks 1 00 feet away,

just the act oflowering your head

can take on weighty significance.

For in the language

of certain reporters,

lowering your head

takes on a different meaning.

BRIGITTE COMES OUT OF HI DI NG

The newspaper in question

considers it unimportant to mention

that the picture was taken

at the Villa Malaparte in Italy.

Yet that's where it was taken,

on May 29 at 4:
00 in the afternoon,

by photographers

you felt no need to flee from

because you never even saw them,

and you never saw them

because they were hidden.

They'd been following Brigitte

since filming began in Rome.

She arrived in Capri on May 1 7.

They in turn arrived on the 1 8th.

Look at the beautiful girls in Capri!

They came here with a purpose-

these were no amateurs-

and answered to the names of-

Lucciano.

Claudio Valente,

of Valente Photo Agency.

Paolo.

The paparazzi's tools of the trade:

a 300 mm telephoto lens,

with a 3.5 aperture,

which can get a full-body shot

from 1 50 feet away.

A Vespa.

Apair oflegs.

Endurance.

A flash.

Their secret weapons:

patience and stubbornness.

Tuesday, May 2 1, 1 0:00 a.m.

You board the boat

for the Villa Malaparte.

They are there.

At 1 0:
30 the same day,

you arrive at the villa.

Jean-Luc!

They are there.

Thursday, May 23, 5:00 p.m.

You set out to go water-skiing.

They are there.

Friday, May 2 4, 3:00 p.m.

You listen to Godard's instructions.

So do they.

You shout ''Camille'' here.

Once Brigitte has gone over there,

you count to five,

and then you go.

Saturday, May 25. The day began badly,

and everyone is tense.

Those paparazzi

have been there all day.

No one can stand

this constant surveillance.

Godard least of all,

and he'll tell them so himself.

Brigadier Ventrone

follows behind and translates.

Furious at being driven off, Claudio,

Lucciano and Paolo decide they'll get

the definitive picture of Bardot

that night, no matter what it takes.

The clash takes place outside

the restaurant where you've had dinner.

They insult people in the street,

me in particular.

The people with me

are forced to react.

That's when they file charges

saying we attacked and beat them.

The poor souls!

The next morning they report

they were beaten up

to the local correspondents

for Il Tempo, Il Matino,

and Il Messagiero di Roma.

The next day those papers run articles

unflattering to Brigitte.

''Bardot's Fianc Attacks Photographer.''

Why that article in the paper?

Because you're not kind to us.

We were very upset, Brigitte,

and we wanted to let

the public know what you are.

Why don't you ever let us take pictures?

What's the best shot of Bardot for you?

A bathing suit. A bikini. Those are

great pictures for the weeklies.

I'm sure if we could get

a picture ofher with the little dog,

Il Tempo, Il Settimo Giorno, Il Europeo

would print it right away.

But that's impossible.

She's always surrounded

by police and soldiers.

They stop us.

At the very moment

we're about to get a picture.

Of course,

all this in spite of our sincere efforts

to convince the soldiers

that we need to eat every day.!

We're not lucky enough

to haveJicky Dussart's job,

the photographer

on Bardot's production.

He can do anything he wants.

He can work completely at ease,

in a relaxed and casual way.

Artfully, simply

and elegantly.

And we get yelled at

by our press agency to boot.!

The only thing that bothers us

is having someone among us

who doesn't take it seriously.

First he cuts the name ''La Stampa''

out of the paper and puts it on his hat.

Then he draws everyone's attention

to his hand that's in a cast.

It makes a terrible impression.

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