PARIS — Brigitte Bardot, the French actress who became one of cinema’s most iconic figures in the 1960s before transforming into a militant animal rights activist whose later years were marked by controversial political positions, has died at age 91.

Bruno Jacquelin of the Brigitte Bardot Foundation for the protection of animals told The Associated Press that she died at her home in southern France. He declined to provide a cause of death and stated no arrangements have yet been made for funeral or memorial services. She had been hospitalized last month.
Bardot achieved international celebrity status as a sexualized teen bride in the 1956 film “And God Created Woman.” Directed by her then-husband Roger Vadim, the movie triggered scandal with scenes of the long-legged actress dancing on tables naked, establishing her as one of the 20th century’s greatest screen sirens.
At the peak of a cinema career encompassing approximately 28 films and three marriages, Bardot came to symbolize a nation breaking free from bourgeois conformity. Her tousled blond hair, voluptuous figure and pouty irreverence made her one of France’s most recognizable stars.
Her widespread appeal led to her features being selected in 1969 as the model for “Marianne,” the national emblem of France and official Gallic seal. Bardot’s face appeared on statues, postage stamps and coins, cementing her status as a cultural icon transcending cinema.
Bardot’s second career as an animal rights activist proved equally sensational. She traveled to the Arctic to expose the slaughter of baby seals, condemned the use of animals in laboratory experiments, and opposed sending monkeys into space.
“Man is an insatiable predator,” Bardot told The Associated Press on her 73rd birthday in 2007. “I don’t care about my past glory. That means nothing in the face of an animal that suffers, since it has no power, no words to defend itself.”
Her activism earned compatriots’ respect, and in 1985 she received the Legion of Honor, France’s highest distinction.
However, Bardot later fell from public grace as her animal protection advocacy adopted an increasingly extremist tone and her far-right political views appeared racist, particularly regarding immigration into France, especially by Muslims.
French courts convicted her five times for inciting racial hatred. Notably, she criticized the Muslim practice of slaughtering sheep during annual religious holidays like Eid al-Adha.
Bardot’s 1992 marriage to fourth husband Bernard d’Ormale, a onetime adviser to former National Front leader Jean-Marie Le Pen, contributed to her political shift. She described the outspoken nationalist as a “lovely, intelligent man.”
In 2012, she generated controversy by writing a letter supporting Marine Le Pen, current leader of the party—now renamed National Rally—in her unsuccessful bid for the French presidency.
In 2018, at the height of the #MeToo movement, Bardot stated in an interview that most actors protesting sexual harassment in the film industry were “hypocritical” and “ridiculous” because many played “the teases” with producers to secure roles.
She claimed she had never been a victim of sexual harassment and found it “charming to be told that I was beautiful or that I had a nice little ass.”
Brigitte Anne-Marie Bardot was born September 28, 1934, to a wealthy industrialist family. A shy, secretive child, she studied classical ballet and was discovered by a family friend who placed her on the cover of Elle magazine at age 14.
Bardot once characterized her childhood as “difficult” and stated her father was a strict disciplinarian who would sometimes punish her with a horse whip.
French movie producer Vadim, whom she married in 1952, recognized her potential and created “And God Created Woman” to showcase her provocative sensuality—an explosive combination of childlike innocence and raw sexuality.
The film, which portrayed Bardot as a bored newlywed who beds her brother-in-law, exerted decisive influence on New Wave directors Jean-Luc Godard and François Truffaut, and came to embody the hedonism and sexual freedom of the 1960s.
The movie achieved box-office success and transformed Bardot into a superstar. Her girlish pout, tiny waist and generous bust were often more appreciated than her acting talent.
“It’s an embarrassment to have acted so badly,” Bardot said of her early films. “I suffered a lot in the beginning. I was really treated like someone less than nothing.”

Bardot’s unabashed off-screen romance with co-star Jean-Louis Trintignant further shocked the nation, erasing boundaries between her public and private life and making her a prized target for paparazzi.
Bardot never adjusted to the spotlight. She blamed constant press attention for the suicide attempt that followed 10 months after the birth of her only child, Nicolas. Photographers had broken into her house just two weeks before she gave birth to photograph her pregnant.
Nicolas’ father was Jacques Charrier, a handsome French actor whom she married in 1959 but who never felt comfortable as Monsieur Bardot. Bardot soon relinquished her son to his father, later stating she had been chronically depressed and unprepared for motherhood responsibilities.
“I was looking for roots then,” she said in an interview. “I had none to offer.”
In her 1996 autobiography “Initiales B.B.,” she compared her pregnancy to “a tumor growing inside me” and described Charrier as “temperamental and abusive.”
Bardot married her third husband, West German millionaire playboy Gunther Sachs, in 1966, but the relationship again ended in divorce three years later.
Her filmography included “A Parisian” (1957); “In Case of Misfortune,” in which she starred in 1958 with screen legend Jean Gabin; “The Truth” (1960); “Private Life” (1962); “A Ravishing Idiot” (1964); “Shalako” (1968); “Women” (1969); “The Bear And The Doll” (1970); “Rum Boulevard” (1971); and “Don Juan” (1973).
With the exception of 1963’s critically acclaimed “Contempt,” directed by Godard, Bardot’s films were rarely complicated by intricate plots. Often they served as vehicles to display Bardot’s curves and legs in scanty dresses or frolicking nude in sunshine.
“It was never a great passion of mine,” she said of filmmaking. “And it can be deadly sometimes. Marilyn (Monroe) perished because of it.”
Bardot retired to her Riviera villa in St. Tropez at age 39 in 1973 after “The Woman Grabber.”
She emerged a decade later with a new persona: an animal rights lobbyist, her face wrinkled and voice deepened following years of heavy smoking. She abandoned her jet-set lifestyle and sold movie memorabilia and jewelry to create a foundation devoted exclusively to preventing animal cruelty.
Her activism recognized no borders. She urged South Korea to ban the sale of dog meat and once wrote to U.S. President Bill Clinton questioning why the U.S. Navy recaptured two dolphins it had released into the wild.
She attacked centuries-old French and Italian sporting traditions including the Palio, a free-for-all horse race, and campaigned on behalf of wolves, rabbits, kittens and turtle doves.
By the late 1990s, Bardot was generating headlines that would alienate many admirers. She was convicted and fined five times between 1997 and 2008 for inciting racial hatred in incidents inspired by her anger at Muslim animal slaughtering rituals.
“It’s true that sometimes I get carried away, but when I see how slowly things move forward … and despite all the promises that have been made to me by all different governments put together — my distress takes over,” Bardot told the AP.
In 1997, several towns removed Bardot-inspired statues of Marianne—the bare-breasted statue representing the French Republic—after the actress voiced anti-immigrant sentiment. Also that year, she received death threats after calling for a ban on the sale of horse meat.
Bardot once stated she identified with the animals she was trying to save. “I can understand hunted animals because of the way I was treated,” Bardot said. “What happened to me was inhuman. I was constantly surrounded by the world press.”

Bardot’s life encompassed extraordinary contradictions: a global sex symbol who never adjusted to fame’s demands, a cultural icon whose image represented France itself yet whose later views alienated many compatriots, and an animal advocate whose compassion for creatures contrasted sharply with her harsh pronouncements about immigrants and religious minorities.
Her cinema legacy remains undeniable. She helped define an era when cultural boundaries shifted dramatically, embodying sexual liberation and challenging conservative norms about women’s autonomy and desire. Directors credited her performances, particularly in “Contempt,” with artistic merit beyond mere physical appeal.
Yet her second act as an animal rights pioneer proved equally consequential. The Brigitte Bardot Foundation, established in 1986, became one of France’s most prominent animal welfare organizations, influencing legislation and public attitudes about animal treatment. Her willingness to use celebrity status for advocacy inspired similar efforts by other performers.
The controversies that marked her later years cannot be separated from her legacy. Her repeated convictions for inciting racial hatred, support for far-right political figures, and dismissive comments about sexual harassment victims revealed perspectives that many found deeply troubling, particularly given her status as a feminist icon to earlier generations.
Bardot’s complicated relationship with motherhood, fame, and her own image reflected broader tensions women navigated in an era of changing gender roles. Her candid acknowledgments of depression, inability to bond with her child, and suffering under relentless media scrutiny foreshadowed contemporary discussions about celebrity culture’s psychological toll.
As news of her death spread, reactions will likely mirror the polarized views she generated throughout her life. Some will remember the luminous actress who captivated audiences and challenged conventions. Others will recall the animal advocate whose passion saved countless creatures. Still others will focus on the controversial political positions that overshadowed her earlier achievements.
Bardot leaves behind the foundation bearing her name, a filmography that influenced cinema history, and a complex legacy that defies simple categorization—a fitting conclusion for someone who spent nine decades confounding expectations and provoking strong reactions from admirers and critics alike.
AP story



