When Catherine Deneuve sported a small Ukrainian flag on her blouse for a photo call at the Venice Film Festival this week, it was a subtle reminder of the bifurcated European summer as it draws to its close. At 78, Ms. Deneuve, the uncontested grande dame of French cinema, is almost synonymous with the world’s oldest film festival.

This is not only because of the Golden Lion she won back in 1967 for her portrayal of the upscale housewife turned bordello worker in Luis Buñuel’s “Belle de Jour.” It is also because in a world that seems to wobble with more turmoil with each passing season, Ms. Deneuve stands as a cherished cultural lioness and rare beacon of grace.

That is true even for those of a younger generation unfamiliar with Ms. Deneuve’s vast and varied oeuvre. Of many reasons I love her, only some actually have to do with cinema. For one, she once served as a model for Marianne, the personification of la République française, who always appears in graphic representation wearing a traditional Phrygian cap.

In 1969 that honor was memorably bestowed upon another French actress by the name of Brigitte Bardot. In 1985, after winning a national poll that saw the French choose between eight female celebrities, it was Ms. Deneuve’s turn to go iconic. A traditional plaster bust was made, but her appearance on the pink and blue French postage stamps was the more mass market vision.

The second reason I love her is the duet called “Paris Paris” that she sang with the late Malcolm McLaren on his 1994 double-CD called simply “Paris,” an eclectic love letter to the French capital. No other anthem to Paris quite compares. Near the end of it Ms. Deneuve sings — in French, of course — “breathe in some air of the métro, but not too much, for Paris would lose her soul.” Anyone who has ever lived in Paris knows exactly what that means. 

Reason no. 3 for Deneuve love is the movie she made in that distant year 2000 with Björk called “Dancer in the Dark.”  The fact that a giant of French and global cinema would take on a supporting role in a movie directed by an iconoclastic Danish filmmaker and starring an Icelandic singer who had never acted before was living proof of the French expression qui n’essaie rien, gagne rien — who tries nothing wins nothing.

Although it was not Lars von Trier’s intention, Ms. Deneuve even brought glamor to the role of a dour factory worker, and to watch her join in on the musical numbers is still mesmerizing. A devastating film, there is nothing like “Dancer in the Dark” before or since, and the chemistry between the two women is arguably what made it unforgettable. 

Something else that I love about Catherine Deneuve is her philosophie de vie, or her general outlook on life, at least as evidenced by  some of her public utterances. The actress has been accused of a certain frostiness, both toward people and the press. Yet she has disputed this. “I prefer intimacy to familiarity,” she once said, or rather purred, in an interview. What she meant is that instead of ersatz, Kardashian-esque smiles for the paparazzi, she favors that increasingly fragile commodity called human connection.

The actress’s attitude to nostalgia is no less admirable. “I don’t have time to look backwards,” she declared at Venice this week. That is some gall, considering that the very reason for her presence was to receive the Golden Lion for Lifetime Achievement. But then, Ms. Deneuve is an embodiment of the contradictions inherent in the French character. When they are not driving you mad, they just might make you fall in love.