The Union des Chefs Opérateurs joins its president Philippe Brelot in paying tribute to Morvan Omnès, Milo Omnès, and Hervé Ribatto
Morvan, my friend, my companion, my grip,
A grip on a film set is there to carry out the movements of “the camera” and its operators, but also to ensure their safety… a closeness and a trust that led us to build strong bonds which, over time, went well beyond work. It took that cursed day of 23 April 2021 to break that solid friendship, clean through.
Morvan, Milo, Hervé and Timothée, in that car, in the wrong place at the wrong time… the force and violence of fate cannot be controlled, and it leaves us defenceless in the face of this injustice.
How to describe you, Morvan, to those who never had the chance to know you… I used to describe you to directors like this: “Morvan is made up of one third good Breton granite, a good third of warmth, of your smile and the charm of your deep voice, another big third of mischief, playfulness and humour, and finally a fourth third of great professionalism…” And if ever a director pointed out that this made four thirds, I would answer that that’s just how it was, Morvan — a whole man, and then some.
To say that I miss you isn’t enough; to say that I will never again see you lift enormous cameras and gear without blinking, and then, a moment later, push dollies and move cranes with the lightness and suppleness of a cat, is inconceivable. To say that we will never see each other again, that we will never again put the world to rights together, is impossible.
Your team was in your image — solid, loyal, and proud of a job well done. I spent a little time with Hervé, another solid fellow with that lovely southern accent, kind just like you. As they say of a good “fit”, it suited you well. I didn’t know Timothée Anciaux very well, but you don’t end up on your team by chance — an affinity and a friendship between companions is what binds it together. At this hour, as he lies in intensive care, we wish him strength, courage, and the very best.
Milo, your son, your spitting image, was just starting out… 19 is a fine age to begin on your first sets, a fine age, but one that shouldn’t have to stop there, whose wings should never have been clipped. Our only small comfort is that he did not leave alone, but at your side, and under Hervé’s watchful care.
Today I mourn you, my friend, we mourn you all, my friends — which would make you laugh, Morvan, just before you cried along with us… And then we will laugh with your friends and your loved ones, because it will be impossible to talk about you, about all of you, without being able to laugh… and cry.
Farewell, my friend. Yec’hed mat!
Philippe Brelot
Cover photo ©Andrea Forssell
