[from Jaques Rivette’s 1966 episode of Cinéastes de notre temps called “Portrait de Michel Simon par Jean Renoir ou Portrait de Jean Renoir par Michel Simon ou La direction d'acteurs: dialogue”]
Michel Simon: If a street was blocked, an accordionist and
a singer would immediately show up. Paris was a marvelous place before World
War 1; a city of poetry, deep feeling, and kindness, of integrity and honesty.
A kilo was a full 1,000 grams, and so on. Times have certainly changed. We’ll
never see that again. People were good, generous—
A voice off-camera: You can still find traces of it.
Simon: Traces, yes. Like the radium in Vichy water:
present in minute quantities. I remember when I lived on rue Blondel across
from a house of ill repute. There was a grocery store on the corner. When the
grocer would see me gazing forlornly at his displays, he’d call out, “Come on
in! You can pay me next time.” He offered credit to me, a total stranger. I was
17 and looked like a hoodlum. So I’d take what I needed and pay when I could.
A voice: That’s wonderful.
Simon: Marvelous. The grocery store is still there, but
not the grocer.
A voice: And the house across the street?
Simon: That’s gone too, alas. Those ladies won’t be back. They were offended. They still are. If they come back, there’ll be a doctor at each washbasin, with a rubber stamp, asking to see I.D. That’s what we’ve been fighting for since WWI – freedom. But freedom to do what? To be harassed by others.