“An eternal sentimentality”

This is how filmmaker Michel Gondry describes François de Roubaix in the preface to Simon Lec’hvien’s François de Roubaix : Un caméléon sous la mer, a book dedicated to the brilliant film composer who died at the age of 36. This illustrated album contains previously unpublished documents and valuable testimonials, including one from the highly elusive Harry Kümel, offering a deeply moving glimpse into both the composer’s private life and his enduring contribution to the world of film music.

How would you describe the appeal of François de Roubaix's music?

The title of the 2006 documentary François de Roubaix, l’aventurier captures the intensity and diversity of his work. His music is adventurous. It is as charming and lyrical as it is deeply enigmatic and deeply mysterious. Sometimes, within a single piece that always retains a truly adventurous spirit, there is a musical idea, and everyone will find something unique in it.

What connected him to Alain Delon, was it a certain musical expression of romantic lyricism that resonated with the melancholy of cinema personified by the actor?

Yes, there was a very poignant connection between the world of a certain kind of cinema embodied by Alain Delon, including films by Jean-Pierre Melville and the music of François de Roubaix. It was also a question of personality; de Roubaix was not someone who sought to impose himself in any way other than through his music. Delon, before taking on a more virile stance toward the end of his career, shared a melancholy approach to a certain kind of cinema with de Roubaix. They were friends and then had a falling out. Yet, de Roubaix’s music allowed Delon to create a contrast with his own masculine image, to portray him as someone who valued living through emotions. 

He has a flair for comedy that one can hear in La Grande lessive by Jean-Pierre Mocky, or The Band featuring Louis De Funès. How would you describe this humorous side of his music?

Since he was truly a jack-of-all-trades, he could compose for a big-budget comedy, The Band with Louis de Funès, and then move to a satire by Jean-Pierre Mocky, which had more of a pieced-together experimental vibe. De Roubaix was an avid experimenter. These two comedies, two completely different, wild rides, both carry a very surprising lighthearted feel. In both films, the soundtracks are tinged with melancholy, a musical embodiment of the mutual support and human solidarity of the characters. 

Last Known Address is one of his most iconic soundtracks, covered by Robbie Williams in his hit "Supreme." Can you tell us about the lyrics?

More than 170 songs have used samples from this soundtrack, even a recent commercial. There’s a melody that gets stuck in your head right away, it’s unclassifiable and pretty crazy. It’s over 50 years old but embodies a modernity that makes you keep coming back to it.

What is your favorite film music by de Roubaix ?

The one I listen to regularly is from Mais où est passé Tom ? by José Giovanni (1971). It’s a very short, five-minute melody for flute. Those few moments are enough to convey something very powerful in this little-known film. I heard it before I saw it, and it’s a musical theme that stands on its own, stronger than the others.

Interview by Virginie Apiou