Philippine Leroy-Beaulieu knows you might be afraid of her. ‘[People] think I’m this bitchy French woman,’ she says, adding with a glint: ‘Which I love, by the way.’ That reputation is understandable. As the very elegant, very French Sylvie Grateau in Emily In Paris, she is a formidable foil to Lily Collins’ exhaustingly peppy protagonist. It’s a role Leroy-Beaulieu tackles with gusto – Sylvie is the archetypal Parisian woman: achingly chic, of course, but also bloody terrifying.
In ‘real’, non-Darren Star choreographed life, however, Leroy-Beaulieu is thankfully not very Sylvie. Or at least not all Sylvie. Sure, like her screen alter-ego, she is stylish, cultured (raised in Rome by a model mother and actor father, she speaks five languages), quick, and imperiously good looking. But sat in the Brasserie l’Émil at Chateau Voltaire – before she flies to Brazil to begin shooting a film – she is also funny, warm, polite and dispenses none of those trademark withering eye rolls.
Arguably the Netflix mega-hit’s MVP, viewers are understandably obsessed with Sylvie. Why does she think that is? ‘It’s so hard to tell. I think she’s bold and she’s free in a way, and she’s a bit old school. I always viewed this character as Asterix: she’s resisting the American empire. [And she’s] a lot of fun to play.’
Fun isn’t something that Leroy-Beaulieu shies away from in her work. It is easy to be snooty about Emily In Paris – it’s a carnival of campness, exaggerated characters and bonkers clothes – but Leroy-Beaulieu is totally game. She possesses the unpretentiousness of the genuinely confident, which allows her to embrace the silly as much as the serious. ‘It would be a pity to just limit ourselves to whatever we think is the ‘right’ thing to look at or think or do. It would be sad,’ she says.
It’s an attitude that translates to her personal style. Daily, she prioritises comfort and low-key taste (today in Vanessa Bruno jeans, a Sébline shirt and Barbara Bui blazer) but will happily crank up the glamour in Saint Laurent when a red carpet beckons. ‘I like those radical takes instead of being in the middle,’ she says, adding: ‘Which is what I love about [British style], they’re so free with their fashion and the way they dress. My daughter lives in East Sussex and I’ve noticed her friends and how they dress, there’s so much fantasy and they’re not scared of being vulgar, which the French are. It limits them a lot – they’re scared of not being chic.’
The way she sees it, the froth and frippery of the Emily In Paris universe is only part of the story. Showrunner Star, she says, is a master of the sleight of hand who can smuggle big ideas into shows, without the audience, or even the actors, realising. ‘He’s making everything look really good and beautiful and easy and light but then, deep down, there’s more to it,’ she ventures. ‘It’s really interesting to work with him. Sometimes I get into a scene and don’t realise what he’s trying to say, then at the end [I go]: “Ohh.”’
One of the big ideas that’s gradually unfurled over the four seasons is Sylvie’s inability to choose. ‘Emily doesn’t know how to choose in a really obvious way, but Sylvie – she has this husband, but they have this very open relationship – you’re going to see at the end of season four…’ (Spoilers, I’m afraid, were not forthcoming). That’s interesting, I say, we think of the inability to settle as being quite a masculine trait. ‘Darren’s women are quite masculine. They’re not too soft, not too strong. They’re very balanced, they’re full.’
The dilemmas wrought by a surplus of choice, knowing when to pursue what is right and when to settle for what is right right-now are distinctly 21st-century quandaries. ‘It’s always hard to choose because choosing means throwing other things out. You can’t keep it all,’ she says. ‘Sometimes Sylvie’s very judgemental about Emily’s love life and she shouldn’t be. It’s because she’s unaware of her own, you know, limitations.’
Is Leroy-Beaulieu opinionated? ‘Well, I am – but now I keep it to myself,’ she says. ‘As I age, I think I’d like to be quieter, not give my opinion all the time. That’s what I’m trying to do more and more, unless somebody asks for advice which you can try to give. Try. But otherwise just shut up!’
But what about other people’s (copious) opinions? Although she’s been acting for over 40 years, Emily In Paris – which first aired when she was 57 – has catapulted Leroy-Beaulieu to a different level of fame and a whole world of online commentary. Note, for instance, the hoo-ha when she wore a semi-sheer Ami dress in 2022. ‘Oh my god,’ she says of it now with a flicker of a Sylvie eye roll, insisting she didn’t even know it was see-through until the flash photography did its work. Instead of freaking out, she found herself thinking, ‘Who cares? What am I going to do about it?’
Now 61, living her life on her own terms is a luxury she affords herself. ‘I don’t care about other people’s opinions, not anymore – I used to though. You have to work on yourself. You have to do the job to understand who you are, and like yourself the way you are, knowing that you’re not perfect, and it doesn’t matter because that’s who we are as humans. We’re not perfect, and it’s great.’
It’s the kind of sage perspective that makes me think younger cast members might corner her for life advice. ‘No!’ she laughs. ‘Not at all.’ OK, maybe they don’t want the advice but, hell, I do. I’m 40 next year I tell her, and I’m spinning out. Any tips? ‘You should say you’re 41 already, that’s going to help. You always add years to your age,’ she says with a laugh.
She credits her father, the actor Philippe Leroy – who was taking karate classes at 70, and doing parachute jumps by 85 – with her attitude to ageing. ‘He gave me an example of never [being] too old for anything. He was so much into his body; I’ve always seen him just live. For as long I can walk and run and dance and jump, who cares about the number that’s on my passport? I don’t care. I don’t care!’ she says, adding that there’s no such thing as ‘an age when everything’s over. I don’t want to listen to that, and I don’t listen to that’.
I’m on a roll now. Leroy-Beaulieu is objectively sexy, and since I am currently unsuccessfully dating a Parisian man, I ask her if she has any advice. ‘Oh my god!’ she laughs. ‘I can’t say…’ before venturing a ‘well… make him wait as much as you can. Make him want you.’
Emily In Paris – despite its outrageous romantic high-jinks – does come with the message that there’s more to life than men. When the second batch of season four episodes lands on 12 September, it will be a little pick-me-up to alleviate the back-to-work blues. Unlike Sex And The City, where the extent of a working life portrayed was tapping a single subpar sentence on a laptop followed by a pensive stare out of a window, Emily In Paris spotlights work (albeit a boisterous interpretation of it). It’s refreshing: our professional relationships are as dominant and nourishing as our personal ones.
Having been working since the ’80s and now playing a boss, I ask Leroy-Beaulieu what qualities she thinks one needs to bring to a professional project. She impresses the importance of adaptability – and something that is the antithesis of what we imagine aloof Frenchness to look like: enthusiasm. ‘If you go somewhere [professionally], you have to do it all the way. A lot of actors do that – in France especially – “I shouldn’t be doing this”. This is really the wrong way to work,’ she says. ‘Just go for it, just do it all the way, and you’re going to be rewarded.’
Photographs: JUANKR
Styling: Marko Mrkaja. Make-up: Fred Marin at Call My Agent. Hair: Rudy Marmet at Call My Agent. Nails: Adrienne at B.agency. Photographer’s Assistant: Faycal Bouhassoun.
TOP IMAGE Philippine wears: Coat, £9,025, Michael Kors Collection; briefs, £1,050, Dior; shoes, £645, Christian Louboutin; tights, £6.99, Calzedonia; earrings, £49,000, Cartier