The history of film is dotted with the occasional unique beauty who, and I’m going to tread lightly here, don’t so much emote or act in a conventional sense. Instead, they are a presence. One so undeniable that they make acting secondary. As a youth, for me, that willowy beauty was Nastassja Kinski. While I think Kinski’s acting was more than passable, it almost seemed unnecessary. When she was on the screen, it was as if she could misspeak every line and it would make no difference. She just needed to be in the frame, and the spell was cast.
As I got older, I discovered that while Kinski was rare, she wasn’t the only one. Before her, there was Jane Birkin. The equally wispy beauty first caught my eye in a minor role as “The Blonde” in Michelangelo Antonioni’s 1966 masterpiece, Blow-Up. Another three years would pass before Birkin found what was for me her greatest film, Jacques Deray’s La Piscine starring Alain Delon and Romy Schneider. Birkin plays Penelope, the 18-year-old daughter of Harry (Maurice Ronet), a family friend of lovers Jean Paul (Delon) and Marianne (Schneider). The catch is that neither Jean Paul nor Marianne were aware of Penelope before she appeared on their doorstep. Much like the audience must have reacted at the time once Birkin appears, Jean Paul and Marianne are in a low-key state of shock. Of course the reason for their response and the viewers are likely a bit different.
The plot line requires the couple to wonder how well they know Harry at all, but I imagine if you were sitting in a theater in 1969, your response was likely confined to a state of wonder. Where did this magnificent young woman come from? The incredibly slight French (by way of London) actress with a libidinous overbite, off-kilter spaces between her teeth, and a ghostly air seemed to almost float in and out of scenes. The film slowly reveals itself as a psychological thriller (Luca Guadagnino remade the film brilliantly in 2015 as A Bigger Splash), but its languid, almost woozy vibe was perfectly complemented by Birkin’s Penelope, the linchpin upon which a murder turns.
Forgive me for catching the vapors here, but Birkin was a preternatural being. A one of a kind looker who wasn’t so much perfect, but a possessor of all the right imperfections. The puzzle pieces of her appearance seemed to add up to more when taken as a whole. She was simply stunning.
1969 would be a great coming out party for Birkin in other respects as well. Birkin met French musician Serge Gainsbourg in 1968, and the two were an item for more than a decade. Birkin and Gainsbourg collaborated on her first recording, the scandalous “Je t’aime… moi non plus,” which caused more than a little outrage among the more conservative types for its sexual explicitness. Despite, or more likely because of, its frankness, “Je t’aime” became a huge international hit. Much like Birkin’s on screen air, the song is filled with mystery and eroticism. There is a chilly distance and contrarian warmth in Birkin’s cooing voice that I’m sure turned many a young budding soul inside out back in the day, and if you listen to it now, I think you’ll understand why.
While Birkin’s career would never again reach the swooning heights of her 1969 success, she became an icon merely for existing. My goodness, the Birkin Bag was named after her and continues to be an in high-demand tote, fetching as much as $380,000 at auction in May of 2017, all because of her name.
As significant as Birkin was and still is as a cultural force and artist, perhaps her greatest gift to the world was her remarkable daughter, Charlotte Gainsbourg. A wonderful actress and singer in her own right, Charlotte directed a lovely documentary about her mother titled simply, Jane by Charlotte. In the film, Birkin speaks frankly and often with a touch of sadness about her life and her regrets. There are times when you watch mother and daughter in the same frame and you almost feel like it is inappropriate for you to be there. It’s as if you are eavesdropping.
But you can’t look away. How could you? She was Jane Birkin, and no matter her age, when she was in front of you, you could not help but be transfixed.
Jane Birkin died on July 16, 2023. She was 76 years old.
