Jules Renault on Redefining the Music Documentary, Drake’s 100 Gigs, and the Art of Creativity

May 21, 2025
Nada Armanious

When Drake released 100gigs.org—a digital trove of over 100 GB of personal footage spanning studio sessions, backstage moments, private flights, and unreleased material—few could have imagined it becoming a cohesive visual project. But French director Jules Renault did. Known for his genre-blending style and ability to distill chaos into emotion, Jules took on the challenge of transforming the massive archive into 100 Gigs, a 20-minute experimental film that sits between music video and documentary.

Ahead of its exclusive premiere at Le Grand Rex in Paris, followed by an immersive Dark Lane Demo Tapes listening experience, we spoke to Jules about his creative process, artistic instincts, and how skate videos, commercial campaigns, and his refusal to be boxed in continue to shape his work.

What initially drew you to Drake’s “100gigs.org” archive, and how did the idea to transform this raw material into a documentary come about?

One morning, social media exploded over that platform—no one could understand why Drake did it. So much material, including three exclusive tracks, suddenly released and available for download. As soon as I heard about it, I began importing everything. I’ve always been inspired by the short film Good Kid, M.A.A.D City, directed by Kahlil Joseph. It’s a boundary-pushing film, unrestricted by format, narrative, or archival use—a pure work of art. To me, it’s a creative interpretation of what I call an “album color,” almost like an extension of Kendrick’s album. Projects like that are rare because they’re nearly impossible to sell or market. I’ve always dreamed of having access to that much material and the opportunity to share my own vision of an artist in a similar way.

With over 100 GB of unfiltered content—ranging from studio sessions to private jet footage—how did you approach curating and shaping this into a cohesive 20-minute film?

We had just wrapped editing DJ Mehdi: Made in France, a documentary series directed by Thibaut de Longeville. It took three years to craft six episodes from hundreds of hours of archives, so I was already mentally prepared for something this dense. Initially, I wanted to create a music video for “Housekeeping Knows” using the material. I started organizing the footage into timelines based on themes and time periods, but there was simply too much. Eventually, I built self-contained segments: an intro, three music video chapters, and a few interview moments. Then I trimmed everything down, made some hard cuts to keep the rhythm tight, and found a way to connect it all into a single narrative thread.

You’ve described the documentary as “halfway between a music video and a documentary.” Could you elaborate on how you blended these formats to create a unique viewing experience?

I love that hybrid space. As both a director and photographer, I always try to bring a documentary sensibility to my work. I’m not into flashy effects—I prefer things that are raw, analog, and contemplative. This film is literally a mix of three music video segments and interview scenes. I consider it a documentary because it captures different chapters of Drake’s life. It’s a reflection—a reminder of how consistent he’s been over time, which is rare in the music industry. People don’t watch music videos the way they used to, especially now that visuals are released in such high volume. That’s why I lean into more unexpected and experimental territory. The challenge was to stay within the boundaries of what was on the 100 Gigs platform and still craft something coherent and emotionally engaging for Drake’s audience.

Were there any particular clips or moments within Drake’s archive that profoundly influenced the narrative or emotional tone of the film?

Absolutely. The interviews with his longtime team were especially powerful. They really highlighted the pressure of being at the top of the industry—and how crucial it is to have a team you can trust. One standout moment was “40” playing the keys, which I paired with a rare scene of Drake spending time with his son. I didn’t want to be intrusive—I just wanted to create emotion with the right level of subtlety. When you’re working with archives, it’s easy to manipulate or twist the narrative. I wanted to avoid that. Another underlying theme I tried to portray was loneliness. Fame can look crowded from the outside, but often, it’s incredibly isolating. That contrast stood out to me.

The documentary is set to premiere at Le Grand Rex, followed by an immersive listening session of Dark Lane Demo Tapes. How do you envision audiences engaging with this dual-format experience?

I’m really excited to be working with the collective Mino on this. They specialize in these kinds of cultural events and really understand their audience. We wanted the screening to be free—and tickets sold out in ten minutes. It felt right to host it in Paris, especially since it’s a French-led project. I hope the audience enjoys the chance to revisit Drake’s legacy, especially now, with all the recent noise surrounding him. Social media pushes people to pick sides, but I think it’s important to take a step back and remember how much of an impact his music has had—and will continue to have—on the culture.

Did you receive any guidance or feedback from Drake or his team during the editing process, or was this purely your interpretation?

None at all, which is kind of wild. I finished the film last August—working around the clock for a month, worried someone else might have the same idea. I didn’t want to share it in pieces—I wanted them to see the full thing in context. With Thibaut’s help, we reached out to Oliver El-Khatib, Drake’s manager and co-founder of OVO. We sent him the film, not expecting much. But he got back to us immediately—he was a fan of the project. They decided to officially release it on the OVO platform. No edits, no tweaks—they wanted it exactly as it was. That meant everything to me.

Your journey from shooting skate videos in Boston and New York to directing award-winning commercials and documentaries is quite remarkable. How have these diverse experiences shaped your storytelling approach?

I’ve always had a connection to documentary-style work. Even when I branch into other genres, I try to start from something real—real textures, real stories. I’m drawn to fringe communities and overlooked cultures. For me, being an artist is about making, constantly. You can’t overthink what’s trending or what others are doing. When you just keep creating, you eventually find your own voice. That’s how you develop something honest and unique over time.

Your work often blurs the lines between commercial, documentary, and experimental film. How would you describe your visual identity as a director?

I’d say my work is very musical. It tends to have a contemplative, soft energy—though sometimes it exposes something darker underneath. That’s kind of my dilemma—I don’t fit neatly into any one category, haha. But at the end of the day, we’re all entertainers.

You’ve mentioned a deep appreciation for documentaries and a desire to explore beyond the “urban director” label. Are there any upcoming projects or genres you’re particularly excited to delve into?

Yes, I have some ambitious long-form documentaries coming up, but I can’t share details just yet. On the photography side, I’m working on a new docu-series about corridas in southern France and Spain. It’s not so much about the bullfights themselves, but the Traje de Luces—those ornate, traditional suits. I’m also diving deeper into fashion work, which lets me merge documentary storytelling with an editorial edge.