Every night, the alarm went off, cruelly, at 3:45 a.m. Then began an extraordinary preparation. “Like a ritual to get into character,” assures Nadia Tereszkiewicz, who does not hold it against director Stéphanie Di Giusto for the lack of sleep that was inflicted on her on the set of Rosalie, in theaters April 10. Four thirty “hair to hair”, hairs glued one by one on the cheeks and chin by hair stylists to create a generous beard, two hours of high hair styling, sometimes adorned with flowers, a good half hour to put on the corseted dress…
And here she arrived on the set as a bearded woman, somewhere in the French countryside around 1870, alternately liberated and humiliated. “Seeing myself so hairy moved me, disturbed me. I was in a double fight: accepting myself like this and having Rosalie accepted at the same time, recognizes, one gray morning in March, the Franco-Finnish actress of Polish origins. And once that was done, I passed the hurdle, I went to the canteen looking cool, in jogging pants with my beard…”
Another character with an extraordinary trajectory as Nadia Tereszkiewicz loves them. Over the last four years, the young actress with delicate phrasing and a Botticellian profile has multiplied leading roles in French-speaking cinema, from Fabienne Berthaud to Monia Chokri via Robin Campillo, taking on often damaged female destinies with panache.
“A little offbeat”
Woman accused of killing her husband on their wedding day in Canal+ series Possessions, incandescent and bereaved apprentice actress in The Almond Trees, by Valeria Bruni Tedeschi, mischievous actress suspected of an assassination in My crime, by François Ozon… “It is for this type of destiny that I am recruited, she realizes. In truth, the young woman today who we approach in a bar and who smokes joints is much more complicated for me to play… I have always been a little offbeat. »
In the city, Nadia Tereszkiewicz has faith. She bears the first name of a heroine by Anton Chekhov, said to have seen ” too early “ the films of Ingmar Bergman, fell in love very early with Marcel Proust, Heinrich von Kleist and Leo Tolstoy… How, after that, could you not have a taste for romance? “At 18, I had the very violent feeling of having failed my life,” she says today, at 27 years old. After a childhood in Cannes absorbed by dance, “eight hours a day for fifteen years, without vacation”, she painfully failed to integrate the classical companies she coveted, from Toronto to Stuttgart, from London to Hamburg. “I felt like it was all over. »
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