How did you cultivate the female solidarity needed on set to tell this story?
At the helm was this complete gentleman [Jacques Audiard]. What he does is what so many men should be doing, which is just giving space. Allowing other people, especially women, to take up their own space, and for that to not intimidate him and not make him feel he has to control a narrative in some way. Jacques is a leader, and he’s immaculate at not getting in his own way – so that inspires you to do the same for yourself.
As awards season approaches, the Golden Globes, the Oscars, what would it mean to be nominated for telling this story?
I don’t think I can answer that question without getting emotional. For so many years, I convinced myself that I didn’t need to be seen to be successful and to sort of own my evolution as an artist. The reality is, as an artist, what draws us to art? What draws us to want to make art? It’s this desire to connect with people, and part of that connection is being seen for what you put out there, for how hard you work. And if I am recognised for this, it would mean so much to me. It means that this entire time I was on the right path, if it led me here, and I matter, and that’s really important to have that acknowledgement, that validation… That repurpose is so needed for an artist, it’s deeply needed, actually.
Netflix
Sisterhood is a huge theme of the film throughout, have there been times in your life where you’ve leant on sisterhood to get you through difficult times?
Sisterhood is vital. To me, it’s one of the basic needs of life, like water, like air, like Earth. I need connection with women. I’m one of three sisters, I grew up in a family of matriarchs. Who would I be today, or ever, if it wasn’t for the women that have carried me on their shoulders, and continuously carry me on their shoulders? They raise me, they educate me, they guide me, they teach me how to be a better person every day by just being good people.