Jonathan Cohen - Portrait
On l’attend drôle. Il l’est. Mais quelque chose tire hors champ :
un rôle de transition, un homme idéal en devenir, presque italien, presque imaginaire,
comme un personnage échappé d’un film qui n’existe pas encore. Je prends les images pour la promo.
Et puis celle-ci.
Entre deux souffles, deux réponses, deux mondes. Fatigue tenue, profondeur discrète, pudeur.
Jonathan Cohen, en bascule. En mieux.
Jonathan Cohen - Portrait
Thirty dates on the road, the provinces rolling by,
a Christmas romantic comedy slung over his shoulder.
Everyone expects him to be funny, bright, on cue.
He delivers — gently.
But something pulls off-frame.
A transition role.
An ideal man in the making, almost Italian, almost fictional
as if escaped from a film no one has written yet.
The Purple Rose of Cairo slipping through a tunnel:
you no longer know who’s watching whom.
I take the pictures for the press kit.
And then this one.
Caught between two breaths, two replies, two worlds.
A presence that holds while everything else stirs around him.
Tired in a graceful way, quietly profound, disarmingly modest.
Jonathan Cohen,
in chiaroscuro.
Mid-shift.
And somehow, better.
