In Development

Fred Pirat graduated from the prestigious Louis Lumière National School in France in 1988.

After spending a year at the French Cultural Center in Yaoundé, Cameroon, he joined the production teams of several major French television networks, contributing to projects such as The Albertville Olympics, “La Marche du Siècle” (France TV), “Les Nuls l’émission” (Canal+), Roland-Garros (France TV).

During this time, he continued to cultivate his passion for writing. He wrote for radio and co-directed with Jacques Taroni for France Culture in 1995, creating My God, What Have We Done? — a radio drama of an unprecedented genre.

As digital technologies began reshaping the industry, he pivoted toward this emerging field. He became involved in the development of American startups in the software publishing industry, where he discovered computer graphics and the potential of digital media.

Beginning in 2007, he expanded his creative output by producing short films and digital visual works. He wrote, produced, and directed corporate films and radio features, explored new uses of interactive technologies, and remained at the forefront of innovation in image and sound.

Since 2013, alongside his ongoing work as a writer, director, and producer, he has contributed to the growth of the technological division at the University of Versailles Saint-Quentin-en-Yvelines (UVSQ), where he teaches audiovisual content creation, visual effects, and 3D.

Films

Short movie. (5min, FR, Sub EN). Comedy.

The model Maker

Short documentary, portrait • 4:32 • FR sub EN

Series of music videos.

Short movies written by Fred Pirat, co-produced with Versailles St Quentin University (UVSQ), made with a team of students

Short film, Comedy • 5min, FR, Sub EN • Awarded Best Short Comedy at the Paris Play Film Festival.

Short film, Drama, Sci-Fi • 7:35, FR, Sub EN

Short film, Comedy, Sci-Fi • 7:52, FR, Sub EN

Gaspard Martineau Fred Pirat, your writing career spans three decades, from radio to cinema, including teaching. How would you define your approach to writing?

Fred Pirat I write to figure out who I am, in a world that doesn’t know where it’s headed. That should be reason enough to write (laughs). I see this huge paradox playing out right in front of me: to be happy, just being alive should be enough. So why are we always rushing around? Why do we constantly need more? Why do our societies get so complicated that they become impossible to manage, and then just stay that way? Why are human beings—and men more than women, it seems to me—such insatiable mad scientists?

My stories come from these questions. Whether it was in 1995 with « My God, What Have We Done? » for France Culture, or today with my film projects, I feel like I’m sitting on the sidelines of the world, watching it race around in every direction. And you also write a lot from your unconscious. That’s fundamental. Beyond methods, tools, the necessary structure. And that’s amazing! Without this wild excess, I probably wouldn’t write at all.

GM Your background is particularly eclectic: from France Culture to American startups, from the Albertville Olympics to technological innovation. How do these experiences nourish your writing?

FP Each experience taught me something about what makes people tick. On a TV set, I watched how people transform in front of the camera. In American startups, I saw entrepreneurs selling dreams while hiding their doubts. In Cameroon, I discovered different ways of living and storytelling. But what really gets to me today is my work in companies making videos. I see that any form of emotion and art is completely banned. People censor themselves. There’s work—like holding your breath and shutting off your humanity—and then there’s real life the second you walk out the door. Everyone seems fine with this compartmentalized existence. I’m not. I bring my whole self wherever I go.

GM Humor seems central to your approach. How do you use it?

FP (Laughs) That’s just how I am in real life: I instinctively defuse conflicts with humor, and it works really well! Well, not always, but most of the time. Getting serious or heavy messages across through humor is a way to lower people’s defenses. In « Voices on the Roof », four people show up to commit suicide on a rooftop, but they end up connecting with each other, laughing at their own contradictions. Humor reveals truths we wouldn’t dare speak otherwise. You can tackle the heaviest subjects if you find the right angle and timing, handled delicately—there’s no magic formula. Humor doesn’t mask reality. It makes it bearable, sweetens it.

GM Does this observation about the corporate world influence your stories?

FP Enormously! In « Voices on the Roof », Vincent flees into work to avoid confronting himself. In « An Idol in Nara », Dorian discovers he can exist differently, away from the frameworks imposed on him. This schizophrenia between professional and private life deeply puzzles me. Why don’t decision-makers ever develop these human relationships? Masks reign supreme as soon as you walk through the door of a workplace. It’s an enigma for me.

GM You’ve been teaching at the University of Versailles since 2013. Does this pedagogical experience influence your writing?

FP My students confront me with essential questions about art and its function. What is art for? They’re growing up in a world of appearances, filters, constant performance. And yet, they’re looking for something else. This confirms my conviction that without art, you can’t live. All arts interest me, more and more actually. I don’t understand why, but I’m looking for answers. My professional activity places me at the crossroads of several forms of expression and I’m very happy about it. My students hold an important place in this mix—they are its freshness and sparks. I’ve written a lot for them, sometimes with them.

GM Speaking of which, how do you navigate between these different arts?

FP While audiovisual and cinema remain my preferred mode of expression, I’m also exploring paths in graphic arts and theater. « Voices on the Roof » is actually conceived as both a play AND a film. This hybridization interests me, already for the actors’ performance, and also for directing. Technology gives me creative freedom: for this project, the separation of characters and sets allows me to create a poetic nocturnal city. Making beautiful cinema with theatrical means. The city lights are actually the 5th character.

GM Let’s talk about your current projects. Between « Voices on the Roof », « An Idol in Nara », and « Where Light Stays », we discover very different universes…

FP These three projects all start from the same method: an extreme situation that reveals something essential. « Voices on the Roof » brings together four people on a roof, each having come to commit suicide on their own. In reality, it’s a dramatic comedy about imposture: Albert lies to himself about his toxic romantic relationship, Isabelle hides her childhood love behind underlying anger, Vincent flees his marital difficulties through work, and Woody is literally a professional impostor—a fake psychologist who will paradoxically help others remove their masks.

« An Idol in Nara » is the story of a Parisian history teacher, Dorian, who unknowingly becomes a pop icon in Japan because of a stolen photo. …

… It’s a Franco-Japanese miniseries that questions the notion of destiny: what happens when fame falls on you without you asking for it? What can you really choose in life? Dorian will have to « learn to want, » as Seneca says. It’s also a tribute to the teaching profession, often caricatured.

« Where Light Stays » is perhaps the most audacious: a dramatic TV movie that poses a dizzying scientific and philosophical question. What is consciousness? Can it be transplanted? It’s based on current scientific state of the art, without esotericism, but it opens up enormous metaphysical questions. Like in my 1995 radio fiction, one man’s action will have a disproportionate global impact. And I love this naive 16-year-old girl who manipulates her world with childhood candor. Amid crushing constraints, she’s a wonderful character.

GM Your writing method seems to favor constraints…

FP Constraints reveal what’s essential. When you can no longer flee, you’re forced to confront yourself. For « Where Light Stays », the constraint was scientific and philosophical. I want to create an alchemy between technical precision and emotional depth.

GM How do you reconcile your technical knowledge with emotion?

FP Technology should never take precedence over humanity, but it can serve it. My background in digital, startups, my mastery of visual effects—all of that gives me a palette of tools. But ultimately, what matters is emotion.

GM You sometimes work collaboratively, like with Fabrice Pruniaux for « Voices on the Roof »…

FP This collaboration was an experiment that turned into a revelation! Our two very different universes created a tension that initially bothered us: where he would craft a biting line, I would soften it with a more tender situation. We discovered that our complementary approaches produced something neither of us would have found alone. We were the first to be surprised.

GM Your hero Woody is a « professional impostor » who pays tribute to Woody Allen. What does this character reveal about your view of lying?

FP I really like Woody Allen, the real one, his freshness. Even though I don’t appreciate all his films, far from it. The character « Woody » embodies this paradoxical idea that sometimes you have to lie to reveal the truth. He’s a guardian angel disguised as a charlatan. He lies about his identity but never about his intentions. Deep down, we all wear masks. The question isn’t to condemn them, but to understand why we need them and when we can take them off.

GM Back in 1995, you were already exploring these territories with « My God, What Have We Done? » What has changed in thirty years?

FP That radio fiction explored the excess of one man’s words on our globalized planet. Today, with social media, AI, this question becomes more urgent. But paradoxically, we also seem more cut off from what’s essential. This isolation in the midst of others, this fragmentation of our lives… There’s something profoundly absurd about it.

GM How do you balance genres in your projects?

 FP : I don’t balance anything at all! I slowly mature ideas, most evaporate, but some remain, so I write a few words not to forget them, a beginning of something. I have loads of wonderful beginnings. Then, these representations of the world make their way through me by unknown paths. They can be of all kinds. Life itself is hybrid: you can laugh and cry in the same day. Why lock stories into narrow boxes? « Voices on the Roof » mixes dramatic comedy with psychological dimension. « An Idol in Nara » marries romantic comedy and economic thriller. Art can reflect this complexity. Wonder doesn’t obey controlled categories.

GM Your projects seem designed to reach an international audience. Is this deliberate?

FP « An Idol in Nara » mixes French, Japanese, and English. It’s a testimony of love for Japan, but also a reflection on cultural gaps. The questions human beings ask themselves are universal, and the stories I tell should be too. I want them to be understandable, I want them to touch people without them having to wrack their brains to understand and feel the emotion they offer.

GM How do you define the role of the author today?

FP The author must ask the right questions, without necessarily providing answers all the time. In a world where everything moves fast, writing means taking time to observe this mad rush, through characters I love. Over the course of my career, I’ve met a lot of people, really a lot. The section of my brain called « inspiration for fictional characters » overflows with specimens I’d love to insert into my next projects. They all come from little pieces of people I’ve actually met. Funny, quirky, harmful, idiotic—there’s everything. Among all these people (I’m talking about real ones), I’ve had the chance to meet people who illuminate society without pride. I like to draw inspiration from them and pay tribute to them in my writings.

GM A final word?

FP There’s something important we haven’t talked about: joy. When joy is there, it means the mechanics of art are working. When art offers us joy, we simply feel alive—that’s already extraordinary. That could be a goal in itself: to offer as many people as possible the deepest joy possible.