During the shooting of my directorial debut, I must never let myself go to any goliardery, even if I might think I am missing some fun, never mingle with the rest of the crew, because they are actors while I am the mirth of a rickety poem. They are solo artists, virtuosos - but I am the orchestra, the strings carpet where everybody has to lay. They are the public, while I am tonight's special event. I allow them to be instantly well-liked, but I must remain rigorous to reveal my eyes, I have to act out the things that never happen. When I think of my film, I don't take anything from the reality that I know, I suck only from the utopia/reality I would want to live. When I say my lines, the I have written for myself, I think about this, of a womb-like world where amniotic liquids protect me from injustices and the boogey man.
[in answer to the question "How do you want to be remembered?"] As somebody who has done everything, but didn't know how to do anything.
I want to be adopted by the French. I want to go to live in Paris. I want to live in a country where a guy like Gaspar Noé can direct his films without going to jail. I don't want to live in Italy, the country of the apes, and end up being an actress with an onion placed where I once had a heart, that instead of beating, it stinks.
I care only about that. Almost only about cinema.
Sometimes I think my father [director Dario Argento] gave me life because he needed a lead actress for his films.
I have nothing in my life besides my work. I am obsessed with it. I leave my house only when I'm forced to. All my life, I have felt that what I did was wrong. But now when I work I feel good about it.
The questions about my father [director Dario Argento] get less and less, and I'm relieved about that. No, I wasn't upset by the things he did to me in his films. I never thought of it like it was me doing it, because he would say, "It's only a movie," and I thought the same.
In a way, when you talk so much about something, it does not belong to you any more. It's happened to me and my bad memories. I've manipulated them and now they could be parts of "Gone with the Wind".
I tend to be a lazy actress, unless I'm pushed. Most of the time nothing much is required of directors, which is a pity. I've worked with very few directors who've asked of me what I asked of myself.
After "xXx" came out, because of all the publicity, I was wearing Prada and going to the gym, and I had an agent in L.A. and all this shit that I've avoided for years. I felt that was expected of me, that I had to be a sexy bombshell. I started receiving all these offers for these kick-ass chick sort of roles. But it didn't make me very happy, to tell the truth, and after giving birth, it all felt different. I don't mean to sound like a bourgeois moralist, but it's true--I started thinking, "What is Anna [her daughter] going to think?"
I always saw myself as really ugly. My father even told me I was ugly because I would shave my head and look like a boy. Then, when I was 21, I was offered this part in a movie where I was supposed to be really sexy [Michael Radford's "B. Monkey"]. It was strange for me to have to research femininity, but I found out these tricks for getting attention that I didn't know before. It was a kind of revenge, I guess, on all the kids who said I was ugly at school.
In Italy people think I'm a cliché. The dark lady, the bitch from hell. All they can see is that I'm naked.
Italy to me is like the mean mother. Whatever I do, it's never good enough. People say I'm the queen of Cannes, but in Italy I get turned down for work.
Movies have saved my life and I'm so grateful. I'm so shy and weird that if I didn't find a place in the world through movies, I don't know what I would've become.