Credits: Eddie Janssens / Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA 4.0.
A major figure in European cinema, renowned as far as Hollywood, Claudia Cardinale died on September 23, 2025, in Nemours, at the age of 87, her agent Laurent Savry told AFP. Born in Tunis, the Franco-Italian actress spanned Visconti, Fellini, and Leone, from Italy to France and the United States. Her recovered voice, her battles, and iconic roles sketch a portrait that brings an era and its constraints into focus. Among Claudia Cardinale movies, many became cult favorites between Italy, France, and Hollywood.
On September 23, 2025, In Nemours, A Presence Goes Out
Claudia Cardinale died on September 23, 2025 in Nemours (Seine-et-Marne), where she had recently settled. The announcement, made to AFP by her agent Laurent Savry and made public on September 24, states that she passed away “with her children by her side.” Born on April 15, 1938 in Tunis, the Franco-Italian actress leaves the imprint of a European star who moved through every modern era: Visconti’s and Fellini’s Italy, Sergio Leone’s America, and the France of the following decades. A straight silhouette, a dark gaze, and above all that husky voice that was at first withheld. Then found again, it would reconcile image with tone.
Tunis 1938 – Rome 1963: Learning, Then Revelation
It all starts with a contest, “the most beautiful Italian woman in Tunis,” in 1957. The young woman arrives in Italy, discovers film sets, and signs exclusive contracts that strictly limit her choices. She breaks through quickly: Goha (1958), Rocco and His Brothers (1960), Girl with a Suitcase (1961) reveal an actress who refuses automatic ingénue roles. But 1963 is the turning point: 8½ and The Leopard place her at the center of the map. In Fellini’s hands, she plays temptation and the mirror; in Visconti’s, Angelica Sedara radiates through the Donnafugata ball with quiet authority. A few years later, Sergio Leone cast her in Once Upon a Time in the West precisely in 1968: Jill McBain enters history through the dusty station, a heroine of the West and of her own fate.
Finding Her Voice: Leaving Contracts Behind, Stepping Into The Frame
In her early Italian films, Cardinale was not always dubbed by herself: late Italian fluency, studio practices, and a preference for a smoother female timbre explain those choices. Starting in 1963, she asserted her own voice. This technical act became an aesthetic one: presence no longer stopped at the face; it passed through breath, irony, and gravity. According to her interviews, the actress would say how image demanded that certain rough edges be silenced; her resistance lay in reclaiming what makes the individual—the voice, rhythm, the freedom to refuse. Married to producer Franco Cristaldi from 1966 to 1975, she worked within an intrusive management that decided on roles and resold schedules. What followed was a series of trade-offs, renegotiations, and a determination to remain in control.
Private Life Under Surveillance: Speaking Without Exposing
Her private life, kept at a distance for a long time, surfaces through a few controlled confidences. Her son, born on October 19, 1958, remained out of the public story for several years; sources differ on whether the name was Patrick or Patrizio Cristaldi, as well as on how long the secret lasted. According to her own accounts, this concealment was imposed “to protect her career” during her rise. Her private life was also marked by a rape in her teens. There is no prurient curiosity here, nor any further detail. Simply, recognition of violence endured and the strategy of protection. An industry sometimes demanded that of the young woman.
Landscape Films: Visconti, Fellini, Leone… Then Squitieri’s Italy
Cardinale’s filmography reads like a map. Italy, France, the United States: she moves through genres without losing the axis of her character—a woman who occupies space. In Rocco and His Brothers (1960), she gives Visconti’s realism an electric tenderness. In The Pink Panther (Claudia Cardinale movie, 1963), she upends sophisticated comedy. In The Professionals (1966), she confirms her presence in American action cinema. In Once Upon a Time in the West, she gives the western a feminine shape by lifting it into tragedy. Starting in 1974, her relationship with filmmaker Pasquale Squitieri, who became her companion until 2011, steered her toward more political roles, as if the actress were looking for films that confront history head-on. We then see her in The Pétroleuses (1971), in which she faces Brigitte Bardot, who would become a friend, Fitzcarraldo (cameo, 1982), Claretta (1984), Mayrig (1991): so many sidelong paths that keep the star from settling into comfort.
Awards And Legacy
The Golden Lion for lifetime achievement was presented to her at the Venice Film Festival in 1993. The Berlinale followed suit with an Honorary Golden Bear in 2002. Added to that are David di Donatello awards and Nastro d’Argento prizes, a Lumière Award in Lyon, and some forty other honors marking a career estimated at between 130 and 150 films. An UNESCO Goodwill Ambassador since March 2000, she defended women’s rights and supported environmental initiatives (notably Green Cross Italy and the Green Drop Award in Venice).
Tributes In France And Italy
On the morning of September 24, the announcement set off a wave of tributes on both sides of the Alps. From the Élysée, Emmanuel Macron praised “a freedom, a gaze, a talent.” Culture Minister Rachida Dati spoke of “an aura for all time.” In Cannes, Gilles Jacob remembered “the smile, the gaze, and the voice.” In Italy, Alessandro Giuli emphasized that “living bridge between Rome and Paris.” Public broadcasters, cinémathèques, and festivals pulled up images and clips: Angelica at the Donnafugata ball, Jill McBain in the wind-beaten station. Mourning also speaks to the scale of a shared legacy.
What Her Career Says About The Era
Cardinale’s story also tells of the economy of images. Exclusive contracts locked in intrusive producers, and youth was more sacralized than the age of maturity. She aged on screen without betraying herself, accepting fewer leading roles in order to keep going. That persistence connects to a contemporary debate: what roles are there for older actresses? Europe has its counterexamples—Catherine Deneuve, Charlotte Rampling, Isabelle Huppert, Emma Thompson—but opportunities are finally becoming less and less uneven. The spread of series and co-productions is nonetheless reopening the field. The “lesson” of Cardinale lies in the phrase attributed to her: she never called, she let projects come to her. A way of holding herself and signaling a dignified sovereignty.
We see her again as Angelica descending the staircase to a waltz, then as Jill framed by the dust of a ghost station. Much noted by cinephiles, The Line (Mehdi Ben Attia, 2009) precedes her lovely turn as Jean Dujardin’s mother in A View of Love (2010). Through all these images, the same force: holding the shot. Cinema loses a stylistic figure; the films, meanwhile, keep breathing through her unforgettable voice.