What could Tennessee Williams, Madonna, and Elodie from housekeeping possibly have in common—other than a soft spot for Michel Babin de Lignac?
For half a century, they’ve known exactly where to find him—standing guard over his small slice of the South of France, at the Eden-Roc Restaurant in the Hôtel du Cap-Eden-Roc.
As its head doorman, he’s a one-man welcoming committee for the blessed and a deterrent for the unhappy few who show up without a reservation. (Tsk-tsk.) Back in 1975, the loquacious charmer landed the doorman role mostly thanks to his six-foot-three frame—but the personality fit was undeniable. “One thing is important: I get to speak with everybody, every day,” he says.
De Lignac left his native Normandy when he was 18 to work at a luxury hotel in the ski resort of Megève. A few years later, his boss decamped to the Hôtel du Cap in the summer, and brought along his protégé. When de Lignac walked through its iron gates, the first person he saw was a gardener carrying his trowels in a bag from Hermès. “I saw paradise,” he says.
Regardless of the occasion—Tuesday afternoon’s lunch service or the Foundation for AIDS Research gala during the Cannes Film Festival—he has all of his guests at “bonjour.” Imposing but classically handsome in his white dinner jacket and still-lush head of silver hair, he would not look out of place in a Jean Renoir film.
The Hôtel du Cap is not a private club, but with its heavy security and strict reservations policy, it functions as one. Every June, the regulars come home to roost. Robert De Niro has been doing so for the past 48 years. “I always get a nice kiss when I see him,” says de Lignac. The same went for Roger Moore, who lived nearby and used the Hôtel du Cap’s clay tennis courts as his own, drilling his three children on backhands and volleys. But even James Bond couldn’t rival the elegance of the playwright Williams, who showed up for lunch in his tuxedo, accessorized by a pair of French pugs.
If de Lignac is not wearing the white dinner jacket, that means he’s at his apartment, in nearby Antibes. His wife, Béatrice, is a law clerk. “I can speak with the famous girls—nothing too stupid—but thank you, Jesus, she has a nice brain,” he says. The couple’s two sons live elsewhere in France, but their daughter remains in Antibes, where she works for an English energy company.
This earns the approval of her father, who is especially fond of the Brits. “David Niven, Michael Caine … the class!” he says. “The English actors are all very distinguished in a tie and jacket. [Caine] would say, “Michel, how are you? You’re staying, right? We come to see you—it’s important for us!”
Even at the Hôtel du Cap, which exists for many outside the space-time continuum, things have changed in the last 50 years. The toddlers still have nannies, “but they aren’t nearly as well behaved,” de Lignac says. But one rule remains immutable: “No bad language—ever!” he says sternly.
Oh, there have been a few bad days. That time they found photographers hiding in the trees, straining to photograph Madonna, was unfortunate. The overserved have been known to cause problems. “When the movie stars drink too much at the film festival, this is very difficult,” he says, grimacing. “And the time that Johnny Weissmuller”—the Olympic-swimming champion who played Tarzan in the movies—“drank too much scotch whiskey … ” Distressed, he is unable to finish the thought.
But most of his memories are happy ones. Take Jean-Paul Belmondo, “a very marvelous man” who whiled away long evenings at the restaurant with his mother. His agent was known to call the receptionist incessantly, but “Maman would say, ‘No, not now! It’s not possible!’” says de Lignac. He would take the messages and deliver them after dessert.
It might be natural to start thinking about winding down—at 72 years old he is well past France’s retirement age of 64—but de Lignac won’t hear of it. Béatrice is 10 years younger, and don’t get him started on the evils of an inactive brain.
The happy couple does intend to celebrate, though. This December, the Oetker Collection, which owns the Hôtel du Cap, has invited them to Le Bristol, in Paris, for a long weekend. They’ll be entertained in the kind of style usually reserved for de Lignac’s clients, including dinner at the Epicure restaurant, which has three Michelin stars.
But when the Hôtel du Cap reopens in May, it’s back to work, because de Lignac simply refuses to let his people down. “Someone is coming here for an easy, marvelous time,” he says. “Always, I make it happen with a smile. Life is too short!”
Ashley Baker is a Deputy Editor at AIR MAIL and a co-host of the Morning Meeting podcast
