Claire Denis with Isaach De BankoléAn Interview with Claire Denis Gary M. Kramer November 2025 Interviews Issue 115 Claire Denis returns to Africa, the setting for several of her films (Chocolat, White Material, and Beau Travail among them), for her latest feature, The Fence. The film, adapted from the play Black Battles with Dogs by the late Bernard-Marie Koltès, is a shrewd drama that addresses issues of power and colonialism, along with race and masculinity that have been essential aspects in Denis’ filmography. Alboury (Isaach De Bankolé) arrives at a construction site in West Africa where he asks to receive the body of his brother, Nouofia (Brian Begnan), a worker who has been killed. However, Horn (Matt Dillon), the foreman, is not keen to return the corpse; he is trying to protect his site manager, Cal (Tom Blyth) who is responsible for the “unfortunate accident.” As this debate continues through the night – Alboury refuses to leave without his brother’s body – Horn’s wife, Leone (Mia McKenna-Bruce) arrives from London. Cal picks Leone up from her flight and there is an unsettling tension between them. How each character exerts pressure or loses power is what makes the film crackle. Isaach De Bankolé The Fence is essentially a chamber drama that plays out in an isolated environment where viewers can practically taste the dust. Denis shoots the exchanges between Horn and Alboury that take place with the titular fence separating them in a way that illuminates their differences. The scenes inside the cab of Cal’s pickup or the site’s compound, which are a series of shipping containers, are claustrophobic, emphasising how suffocated these characters are. The “action” in this talky film is also peppered by comments from guards who watch over everything from their eagle’s nest on the site. Denis showcases some vivid images – such as a CGI dog that attacks a man – that convey the breakdown of civilization. She maintains a cool, almost detached tone throughout, scrutinising the actors in intense closeups. Whereas Isaach de Bankolé is relentless and unflappable as Alboury, Matt Dillon is increasingly more desperate as Horn. In support, Tom Blyth gets the showiest role as Cal who tries to mask his emotions which keep bubbling to the surface as Mia McKenna-Bruce’s Leone slowly realises she is in over her head in this new environment. The film, which is an allegory that can be read on multiple levels – colonialism, race, gender – builds slowly to its climax which involves a personal catharsis for each character. During this year’s New York Film Festival, Denis met with Senses of Cinema about making The Fence. *** What prompted you to adapt a play in general and this play in particular? I have never adapted a play. This was very different. The man who wrote it, Bernard-Marie Koltès, was a very talented young, successful author. He was a best friend of Isaach. We met and when Isaach and I were making Chocolat. Bernard came to the set in Cameroon. He was successful in France. I realised he was telling no one he had AIDS, but I could see he was tired. Isaach did too. When I was working in Portugal on a project about the people who [poach and trade] ivory in Mozambique – trading in a terrible way – Bernard came to Portugal. He wanted to work on the script, but the disease made him too weak. His brother came and took him to hospital, and Bernard died 10 days later. He was losing his memory, and he said, “The best thing you can do is adapt that play. That play was made for Isaach and you.” It took me years to decide to try to make this. 2-3 years ago, I told Isaach I would try. Mia McKenna Bruce Can you talk about shooting the film on location in Africa? Bernard visited a construction site before writing the play. He did it in Nigeria, where they find a lot of oil there. But to get a permit to film that was impossible. It is completely closed. We met a Senegalese production [contact]. They said there is a place that is going to be very industrial. The difference is that Nigeria is very wet and damp and has a lot of vegetation. We shot in February in Senegal, and it was the dry season with cold wind and dust. We were under the wind and dust for nights, because we were shooting nights. You have made several films with Isaach de Bankolé, so I want to dig into your working relationship with him. But I thought Matt Dillon was an inspired choice here, and you showcase Tom Blyth and the marvellous Mia McKenna-Bruce well. It’s interesting that you are working in English mainly with British and American actors. Can you talk about the film’s casting? Isaach, of course, no question! I met Matt a long time ago. He was the friend of a friend and also a friend of Isaach’s by the way. He was in Paris because he was preparing an exhibition of his paintings there. He said, “After all these years, maybe we should work together.” I said I was finishing a script, and maybe there is a part for you if you are interested. He read it and liked it and said yes. Mia and Tom, I found through casting directors. I saw Mia in How to Have Sex, and I saw Tom in another film. I wanted them immediately. No doubt, no screen test necessary. What can you say about working with Isaach? My relationship with him since my first movie is something more than friendship. It’s a sort of pure trust. There is something very solid between us. There is no lie. I trust him as he trusts me. That is something I maybe never experienced. It’s very rare to experience that. It comes through. You film him very specifically in a medium close-up to depict the power between them. In the play, Alboury is behind the fence so there is not his point of view. In the film it was possible to change that angle. The film allows us to be on both sides of the fence. The play does not do that. Tom Blyth The Fence deals with issues of masculinity in crisis. Can you talk about your repeated interest in depicting this theme? There is a hint, in the play also, that the strong relationship between Cal and Horn is ambiguous. They don’t admit it, but when Leone says to Cal, “You’re jealous,” I think she’s right. There is no space for her in that relationship. Horn is getting old and he seeks to escape the work he has been doing all his life by meeting this nurse [Leone] and having a new horizon with her. She is too. Those two men are well-protected by their work, but they are not strong. They are very weak. If you do that kind of work in Africa, and you are the boss, you have to pretend something, even if it’s not true. Even Cal is weak when the worker says, “I’m going home anyway;” there is no answer to that. It is as if his own pride is wounded. Can you talk about how you film bodies? I have been asked this question before. I don’t know the answer. It’s just my way of filming. I have no idea. I do what I feel. But of course, the body speaks. You cannot film actors without being aware of their body. It is also interpreting the part. It’s not just the words. You convey meaning in how you show the bodies, especially in the scenes with the fence. In a way, I thought Alboury is free. He’s behind the fence but he’s free. Cal and Horn are in a jail. The fence is fencing them, not Alboury. The fence is a metaphor. What allegory or allegories are you portraying in The Fence? There are multiple layers of meaning. The fence is also the marker of difference – Black skin and white skin. To be the boss and the brother of the worker. The young woman is invited into the fence, but that is not the house she was expecting. She is invited into a jail. There is also a fence between being a woman and a man. The Fence, like several of your films, is set in Africa and addresses issues of colonialism and race. How do you feel this film prompted you to process issues of colonialism, and advance something new about this topic you’ve explored previously in Chocolat, White Material, and other films? New colonialism. The colonialism of my childhood was something else. Today, it is a new way to take the metal – the gold or copper – or oil. It is capitalism, which is a sort of colonialism. The topic is part of my life, my impression of the world. Colonialism is not just in Africa. It is a way to take, steal, be a predator. I don’t think this will end. Look at the world. It is hard. Making film is all I can do to make change. Matt Dillon The animals in the film are also symbolic. The cows are everywhere in Senegal. They are part of the culture. The fence stops them from going to drink. The dog is something different. It was in the play, like a toy for Cal, not Alboury. He doesn’t need a dog to protect himself. Horn talks about him being a builder and Cal being a destroyer. I liked that image – that we can create or destroy by our words and actions. What are your thoughts about the characters experiencing “radical life changes”? Everyone is impacted by the end of the film. It’s like a Greek tragedy. It’s not even 24 hours. In the turn of the night, they completely change. Leone says to Horn, “I have these dark thoughts.” He replies, “We all have dark thoughts.” Of course, to be alive, we hope for the best, but we have a slight intuition that it could be the worst. You cannot live without that intuition. Are you an optimist or a pessimist? Sometimes, I think of myself as a pessimist, but it’s not completely true. My mother was very pessimistic, and she raised her children in the mood of pessimism, but I wouldn’t be able to make films if I was a real pessimist. You can make a pessimistic film, but you need a certain positive energy to make any film. Otherwise, it doesn’t work. To make a film, it’s a like a lab, you have a crew working together to create something and if you are led by pessimistic feelings, you can’t achieve anything. There is a point in the film where Auboury talks about fighting, or running, or watching. What is your position when things get dangerous? There is something about running away that frightens me. I’m not sure I’m fast enough. I have a tendency to fight. I have a certain type of aggression in me. To fight back helps me. Running away would make me fragile. Each character has strengths and weaknesses, and it shifts sometimes back and forth, sometimes bad to worse. What observations do you have about the power dynamics in the film? For me, the point of the story is that everything was ready for Horn’s dinner with his future wife, but Alboury shows up at the worst moment and is not going to leave. It changes everything. When Leone meets Alboury, she asks what he thinks of her. He says she is like a coin falling and shining for no one. Any thoughts about your career as a whole? You’ve produced a remarkable body of work, making films in different genres. How do you feel The Fence fits in your oeuvre? I have no idea. I never thought I had a career. I don’t have a perspective on myself at all. You don’t think you build and grow with each new film, or are motivated to say something new about this topic? Of course, I have motivations, but they are part of my subjective life. It’s not like a career where I should do this and this and this and this. Absolutely not. It goes with my mind, and my thoughts, and my perspective, nothing else. A career is a strange word. I have a life. That’s all I have, not a career. Do you see a project and think I have to make this? It took you years to make The Fence. No. It’s more, Now, I can’t postpone this. I have to do it. Living is a strange thing. Sometimes you have to do something when you are not sure it’s the right moment, but you do those things. It’s having a life. A career is an organisation of the future, and I don’t have that. Do you let things happen? No. I have to force things to happen. It is hard to make a film. To make a film you have to fight. Sometimes you must break the rules to make a film. It’s not an easy thing. [I start laughing] It’s not funny. I’m not laughing at what you are saying. I’m laughing because you’re charming. I like what you are saying. You answered my earlier question about whether you would fight, run, or watch, and you said you would fight! You make films that speak truth to power. Your films are expressing something we have to see. That’s what I am responding to! Ah, I see.
