Nina Meurisse has become a familiar presence in French cinema, known both for the range of characters she inhabits and for the thoughtful choices that guide her career. In the new film Julian, directed by Belgian filmmaker Cato Kusters, Meurisse plays Fleur, one half of a couple who decide to celebrate their marriage by traveling to every country where same-sex marriage is legal. The story is adapted from real events and Meurisse’s performance has reignited conversations about how love and visibility are portrayed on screen. Alongside her filmography—marked by collaborations with directors such as Céline Sciamma and a César for L’Histoire de Souleymane—this role highlights her ongoing concern for authentic depiction.
For Meurisse, the appeal of Julian lay in the emotional amplitude of the couple’s bond. Rather than tracing the emergence of desire, the film explores how a durable, intense love helps characters endure hardship and celebrate life. During preparation she worked closely with the woman at the center of the true story, who remained involved throughout the shoot to offer details and context. That collaboration brought both support and responsibility: Meurisse felt motivated not to betray the intimacy entrusted to her, while also using that material to create a believable, embodied portrayal.
Acting choices and the ethics of representation
Meurisse approaches the role with a focus on nuance and equality. She has spoken about avoiding stereotypes in gestures, wardrobe and dialogue, and the production took time to choreograph intimate scenes so that they would reflect mutuality and respect rather than power differences. The team debated how to stage moments of physical closeness in ways that honor the couple’s reality without sensationalizing it. This approach connects to a broader practice in Meurisse’s work: meticulous research into a character’s body and daily habits, which she sees as the foundation of emotional truth on camera.
Research and embodiment
Far from treating preparation as purely textual, Meurisse often begins with the body. She has described how understanding a character’s physical history—work rhythms, scars, gestures—can reveal the person beneath the lines. For previous projects she spent early mornings with fishmongers to learn the weight and cold of the work, and for other roles she examined medical details, routines and testimony. Those methods serve a dual purpose: they inform performance and prevent actors from slipping into caricature. In Julian, close contact with the real protagonists allowed Meurisse to capture small truthful behaviors that anchor the film.
Politics, labels and cinematic responsibility
Despite frequently being described as an actor of political films, Meurisse resists simple labels. She acknowledges an instinctive attraction to projects with social content, but emphasizes that storytelling also offers space for poetry and invention. Rather than deciding roles strictly by ideology, she looks for stories that feel alive and human. That said, she believes films carry civic weight: by normalizing certain narratives on screen, cinema can shift perceptions over time. In her view, representation in fiction is a subtle form of activism—less confrontational than a manifesto but capable of changing imaginations.
The balance between popular and engaged cinema
Meurisse also defends the plurality of film forms. Popular movies, she argues, provide the financial and cultural space for more experimental or engaged works to exist. The industry’s diversity matters because it broadens what audiences can see and accept. For an actor, choosing projects is a mix of personal curiosity, artistic challenge and, sometimes, political resonance. Meurisse’s trajectory—from early stage work to roles in recognized series and films—reflects a desire to keep surprising herself while remaining attentive to the real people whose stories she helps tell.
Where the work goes from here
Looking ahead, Meurisse expresses a wish to continue exploring different tonal registers, including comedy and roles that push her out of habitual territory. She is drawn to transformations that demand physical commitment—changes of voice, appearance or movement—and values directors who allow actors to investigate details. Above all, she says, the objective remains the same: to serve the story with honesty. Whether the project is plainly political or quietly intimate, Meurisse treats filmmaking as a craft that can also be an ethical act—a way to amplify voices, invite empathy and, in small but steady ways, influence how viewers imagine one another.