Category: News

“A dirty T-shirt but a clean moustache”

Years after the death of his mother, 13 year old Karim has left Paris for Morocco with his father, who has remarried. Karim joins the newly blended family for a summer in Boujad. Muddled by the anxieties of adolescence, the “little Frenchman” struggles to adjust to his new surroundings until he meets the mysterious outsider Mehdi. Meanwhile, his father is finding it difficult to adjust and even more challenging to relate to a boy beginning to show signs of rebellion. 

The film about family ties is one of the revelations of the Filem’on festival. We met both French and Belgian crew members. Two producers, the DoP and the composer talk about recording a sensitive, soft film in a tough environment.

What kind of place is Boujad? 

Valentin Leblanc (producer): It is a small, isolated city in central Morocco, far away from the big economic centres, but it is also a holy city and a place for pilgrimage. Boujad has a great spiritual value in Morocco and in the entire Islamic world.

Delphine Duez (producer): During pandemic times, it was almost impossible to reach that place. Even for director Omar Mouldouir it wasn’t obvious.

How was it to be there?

Jean-Marc Selva (DoP): Extremely hot. No tourists would go there. It didn’t feel very spiritual to me. It’s a tough place, hot in summer and very cold in winter. 

A SUMMER IN BOUJAD is a French-Moroccan-Belgian co-production. Why would a producer be interested in a project like this? 

Duez: I met Moroccan co-producer Mohamed Nadif in a producers’ meeting in Cannes and immediately fell in love with the scenario. Omar’s writing is wonderful. We stepped into it as an interesting “adventure in humanity”.

Leblanc: The script evolved drastically – at some point it read like a Moroccan THE GOONIES, full of action and adventure.

So that is what a producer does? Cutting out all the adventurous parts?

Leblanc: The financial department took care of that by cutting back the money. For many debuts – and this one was no exception – a director might write a script in multiple directions, with few boundaries. This freedom in writing leaves you with countless options, but at some point you need to find out what you really want to tell, what is the core of your project. Every debut can be tricky when directors put inside everything they have, as if it will be their first and last chance.

Selva: For people remembering their childhood very precisely, this is an exercise in letting go.

The story is set in 1986. How did you reconstruct the past in a place where time has not been standing still?

Selva: The scenes on the main square were the most important, but Boujad has turned into a hectic city, full of cars, and low-budget films can’t afford to digitally clean up every shot. We know there are flaws in the images, but we had to shoot it like this or not make the film at all.

In A SUMMER IN BOUJAD both father and son are searching for their roots.

Leblanc: It’s a reversed story about migration. These people once were rooted in Morocco but they ‘unrooted’ themselves a long time ago. Karim has been raised in the Paris suburbs; now his father returns to where he came from, a long time ago. Finding your roots in a place that should be ‘yours’ but where you feel like a stranger, was an important element in the life of the director. 

Duez: Karim is no longer a child. As an adolescent, this is the moment he will decide who he wants to be. All his encounters will define the person he will become.

Thanks to the father, we get to see one of the most clean-shaved moustaches in film history.

Leblanc: Only Clark Gable could compete with him. The guy always has a dirty T-shirt, dirty pants… but a clean moustache.

One thing that might help you in your search, is a mentor, someone to guide you. Is that a role for Mehdi to play?

Leblanc: He is a bad mentor, leading you on the wrong path. Like the Gandalf of Crime. Throughout the story Karim is searching for an identity that could fit him. He searches with his father, with kids from the neighbourhood, with women from different ages, and none of it seems to match. Mehdi is the only person he connects with but they’re fundamentally different and it’s not the path he should take in life. Only at the end of the film, we get a glimpse of how a connection with his father and his mother-in-law could evolve, somewhere in the future. He is just getting started.

There is this great scene that throws an intriguing question on the table; what happens with movie characters after the credits?

Selva: If the film is bad, they die. If the film is good, they live on forever.

I was amazed how in this film you played with light and shadows.

Selva: The daylight is very bright and aggressive. Shooting outside under a vertical sun, the light is extremely bright, there is no shadow and all eyes turn dark. It’s terrible; you can’t capture any emotion on a face. Working on a small budget, we had to shoot everything at any moment possible. We couldn’t afford being picky.

What about the music?

Simon Fransquet (composer): When I first met Omar, he fell in love with the sound of the charango, a Peruvian instrument. We wondered how it would sound if using it in Arabic music. We took some Arabic tonalities and adapted them. Due to a scholarship, I did my composing on the set in Morocco, which is a unique opportunity. In the evening at the hotel I presented themes that I composed, and we discussed how sound and vision could enforce one another. For the final song we asked Yasmine Meddour, and had the lyrics translated in Arabic, like a mother singing a lullaby for her child. When Omar heard the result for the first time, he cried.

One particular emotion was ‘anger’. The film is soft and touching, but in some characters I can feel the anger bubbling underneath.

Duez: That is an evolution that Omar went through himself. There is misunderstanding and anger, then sadness and sorrow, and finally forgiveness, acceptance and redemption.

What about the storks, coming and going and building their nests?

Selva: They were there and they are still; they belong to the place. Storks deliver babies; when Karim is looking everywhere for a mother, he even looks at the sky, at the storks. They are building their nests, while Karim is looking for a home. Metaphorically it’s all there. They were not in the script though, and they were difficult to capture on camera. 

Today you had a Q&A session with kids. Maybe I can draw from their inspiration… What was the best question you got from them?

Selva: What was the title of the film?

Gert Hermans

“Kids’ grief is like a zebra’s stripes: on and off”

Sofia, Hedvig and Maja are sisters with a common sorrow: their mother Carolina took her own life in 2010. Each of them is dealing with the pain on her own… until Swedish director Jenifer Malqvist pointed her camera at them. Suddenly the girls talk about things that seemed long forgotten, like fragments from another life. The camera captures them during different phases in their life, and always stays with the girls – this is not their mother’s story, it’s theirs. 

The film starts with the girls, still very young, playing hide and seek. One of them covers her eyes, and for a moment you’d think she’s about to burst into tears…

Jenifer Malmqvist: Closing your eyes is a kind of self-defence. They don’t want to face what has happened but sooner or later they’ll have to. That part of the process is captured in the film. I find the image powerful – a similar picture was already used in the very first application for financing.

Can you tell us about the genesis of this project?

Malmqvist: Sweden has a strong children’s film tradition, but in 2010 film researcher Malena Janson concluded that our production had become rather shallow. Therefore she summoned 10 film directors to make one short film each, not shying away from challenging topics. At that moment I heard what had happened to Carolina, whom I vaguely knew – we met once through a mutual friend. On that occasion she came across as a ray of sunshine, so happy and lively. Now I was shocked. Remembering her three daughters, I arranged a meeting with Maja – the oldest one – and asked if she would be interested in making a film. The sisters agreed and we started filming in 2011. Quickly it became clear that the potential was much bigger than a short film. When one of the girls no longer felt comfortable, we stopped filming for a while, but then picked up the idea again at the request of producer WG Film. The fact that the girls were a bit older now changed the dynamic.

When comparing the conversations in the first and the second round, 10 years later, what would be the main difference?

Malmqvist: Kids’ reflections are very direct; they are completely in the here and now and don’t reflect about the future. That might be a blessing at first, but hit you hard later. Only when growing older, the girls realised the consequences in a different way. Sofia and Hedvig have a one dimensional memory of their mum, while Maja has a more complete picture of who she really was. 

Were you just a fly on the wall, recording conversations?

Malmqvist: I asked the girls how often they talked about it. “Only when you are here. We wish we could talk about it more often but it simply never happens.” I interviewed them only twice, not even planning to include the footage into the film, but my editor found it too good not to use it. The interview on the boat is so straight-forwardly direct. For a documentary, the content will always be more important than the cinematography.

Is comfort something you can only find in yourself or can you find it in others?

Malmqvist: Basically we are alone with our worries. But even if human species are lone wolves, we’re part of a hurd. When you meet a person who speaks about things that you feel deep inside too, you won’t feel so alone anymore. That was the girls’ intention from day one: if this can help others, then let’s do it. That is partly the strength of the film. After screenings people come to tell me: “My father committed suicide and me and my brother never knew how to talk about it.” Then what is there for me to say? Not much, I guess.

The girls are also lone wolves, following their own mourning routine.

Malmqvist: Children’s grief differs immensely depending upon their age. A 5 year old will react totally differently to the death of a parent than a 12 year old. In Sweden we say that kids’ grief is like a zebra’s stripes: on and off. Hedvig says: “Now that I’m with my cousins, I don’t think about it.” But when going to bed, thoughts suddenly well up. A grown-up’s mind wouldn’t work like that, but maybe we could try more often.

Daughters are also sisters, and sisters are special!

Malmqvist: SISTERS was on our list of possible titles, but through DAUGHTERS we can also include their mum. Carolina is a character in the film, without being in it. The girls will always be her daughters, and all of them are funny and creative in their own way. I’m endlessly proud about these girls. 

And you learned from them.

Malmqvist: A lot! Like: if you really want to help someone, then learn how to listen, without advice, without judgement. Compared to other living species, we are bad listeners. You can find comfort in a dog or a cat; animals know how to listen and they don’t judge. In our world of today, before we start talking, we first need to create room, space for conversation.

While you had plenty of material in your hands to tell a sentimental story, how did you resist the temptation?

Malmqvist: My main ambition was to make an honest film. Emotions were allowed, as long as they were honest and worthwhile. I screened the final cut for the three girls – my most frightening moment! They thought everything felt right, in the true spirit of who they are.

Living rooms and kitchens in general are not the most camera-friendly settings.

Malmqvist: You need a great DoP to succeed, and I had one. Ita Zbroniec-Zajt is one of the best in Sweden. Who else would be crazy enough to provide me with 40 close ups of teddy bears? She sees things that others don’t see. Remember the little dog on the table, stealing quesadillas. After I wrapped up that scene, she continued filming and shot that funny clip.

And sometimes, suddenly, a moment of beauty hits you. Like images of laundry hanging out to dry at the deck, or two horses cuddling… 

Malmqvist: We made a film with three protagonists, set in different periods… How to glue all those pieces together? One of the tricks we used was opening our ‘box of animals’ in the editing room – after every heavy scene, we needed the contrast. 

Was this film made on the set or in the editing room?

Malmqvist: We arrived in the editing room with 80 hours of footage for which Åsa Mossberg constructed a skeleton, a framework. Editing this project was very much about diving into life’s bigger questions. After the first cut I couldn’t work for three days – I was devastated from diving too deep in other people’s grief.  

Gert Hermans

“A cocktail of explosive madness”

When his best friend starts dealing drugs for a local gang, 12 year old Abdel has no other choice than helping him when he gets in trouble. Against his will Abdi gets drawn into criminal activities and is held responsible for the death of a gang member. Catching up with normal life no longer seems an option, but you might wonder what ‘normal life’ really means in the segregated area where he grows up.

Actor Khalil Ghazal grew up in a rough neighbourhood. More than about BULLETS, he wants to express an opinion about the context of the story: the social emergency that gives Stockholm a bad reputation, and the way in which the government and the community choose to close their eyes to an alarming situation.

Khalil Ghazal: This film was made two years ago. Ever since, this plague of gang violence in Sweden has spread even further and reached a level that we never realised was possible. This sounds so un-Swedish in many ways; it’s a side of the country that we prefer not to show. That is why BULLETS comes with a 15+ age limit, cutting us off from our initial audience.

Did you have any hesitations about playing a character that promotes gang violence?

Ghazal: After I played a gang recruiter in the TV-series SNABBA CASH, I thought I wouldn’t accept such a role again. But the script for BULLETS had an authentic feel – I was born and raised in that place. The movie was made by this community and kept everything in the community: jobs, rental spaces, catering… For director Peter Pontikis it was a project from the heart; he had worked in this community for about 20 years and based his story on interviews he did with young people, criminals, politicians… The story shows how even children with a stable background can get involved with gang violence. Kids get recruited as child soldiers already at age 12 or 13 and they’re ready to kill. Nowadays a lot of our human essence has been depleted. Combined with the romanticisation of a gangster lifestyle, this becomes a cocktail of explosive madness. 

In what way is it romanticised?

Ghazal: Where I come from, many kids don’t have father figures to look up to. If the neighbourhood gangster is the only role model you have in your vicinity, because he has a gold watch and chain and drives a fancy car, he is going to be the one that you want to be like. Violence was never glamorised in this film, neither was it exaggerated – it was even toned down a bit.

On the set you might have been more than just an actor. A role model perhaps?

Ghazal: SNABBA CASH was a huge success on Swedish TV. The first season was glorifying a certain morality – everything for the gang! Suddenly, everybody wanted to be a gangster and uphold a lifestyle that is unattainable by any other means than by money earned on drugs and violence, which could lead to getting a lot of kids killed some day. That is not what I wanted; I want to direct them towards something more positive. I show them: you can act the role of a gangster without being one. The last 10 years I have close to 50 friends who have been stabbed, shot, killed, but the Swedish government prefers to turn a blind eye. BULLETS could have been used to teach police officers, doctors, social workers…  but they decided not to use it to teach people under 15! That is why we ourselves go around, speaking about the movie. Meanwhile kids keep on dying and the government doesn’t know how to handle it. Their latest suggestion is to bring in the military, as if we’re living in a police state. 

Could the story have taken place in any Swedish town, or is it strictly related to Stockholm?

Ghazal: Stockholm is where the gang conflict began; nowadays it has spread over the entire country. Stockholm is leading in gun violence in the entire of Europe! We’re holding up the perfect image, but what we gain in organisation and efficiency, we sometimes lack in humanity. Our society is becoming more and more individualistic: You do you and I do me; you sit on your space in the bus and I sit on mine. Economically suffering communities have a stronger tendency to stick together. And once you’ve been indoctrinated by the clan, you can’t escape from it. Finally, most of these kids are simply looking for a family, for solidarity.

Are friendship and solidarity the same?

Ghazal: Solidarity often doesn’t come from a sense of companionship but from fear or loneliness. But while your neighbourhood and the kids you’re with grow tighter as a group, they also make you more vulnerable to the recruitment of the older kids. All the decency that we still had in the nineties and early twenties, isn’t there anymore. You’ll see 13-15 year old kids drugged out, every day. You hear about a 13 year old carrying a gun, a 14 year old who shot somebody, a 15 year old serving life in prison. A child soldier taking a hit for the team and killing someone will serve a few years in a juvenile prison and then be a part of the gang. But by the time he comes out, there might be no more gang left, because everybody is dead or in jail. These are the harsh realities that we’re telling children about.

Where can such children go for better prospects? To school?

Ghazal: Schools nowadays are understaffed and a lot of youth houses have been closed down. If kids don’t have a place to go after school, where will they go? They’ll go hang around the hood, where gangsters can easily approach them. “Can you keep this bag for me?”, “Can you deliver this message for me?” and then finally “Can you hide this gun for me?” This movie wants to reach those kids before that happens.

Where to situate the main character Abdel in this spectrum?

Ghazal: Meeting Abdel, I recognised myself. As if I was looking into a time machine, seeing myself 15 years ago. Tomas Samir (playing Abdel) had a lot of weight on his shoulders, and I wanted him to feel comfortable. To this day, we are still in contact. I try to be like a big brother to him, pushing him not to give up on this career.

Do we all have a wrong image of the Swedish nation?

Ghazal: Socialism died with Olaf Palme in 1986. He was one of the last great humanitarian voices in Sweden. Now when the UN decided about humanitarian aid in Gaza, Sweden has put down its foot. They didn’t vote for humanitarian aid – that’s the first time I feel politically ashamed to be Swedish. In today’s society, not speaking up is like choosing the side of the oppressor. Did you know that ‘per capita’, Sweden is a world leader in the manufacturing and selling of weapons. Who are we selling to? Follow the money, and you’ll see what the political agendas are leaning towards. 

Gert Hermans

“A surprising amount of dentists”

Finn’s recently divorced parents both have busy schedules to attain. That is why the boy finds himself alone on the train today, travelling between his two homes. On his first unaccompanied journey, he is robbed by a guy on the train. Situations get out of hand quickly and soon Finn finds himself in the company of a girl named Jola, riding a stolen tractor on their way to the Baltic seas, chased by the police and a gang of bikers. 

When meeting director Stefan Westerwelle under a rainy, grey Brussels sky, the atmosphere is gloomy – “you walk through the city, meeting all these people that you will never get to know”. Stefan does his best to ignore the depressing circumstances through his usual talkativeness, but just like in the film script, there is a veil of melancholy hanging over every cheerful story.

Stefan Westerwelle: Offering children a complete cinematic experience and implant in them a long-lasting love for cinema is of the utmost importance, but I’m not sure if I want to continue doing it. 

Why? With four films in five years, you’re building on a true children’s film oeuvre! We don’t want to lose those who are investing their talent and energy in productions for young audiences.

Westerwelle: Finding good screenplays is hard. Many children’s films are just shallow entertainment. I tell scriptwriters that it’s okay to have a ghost story in an old castle but what about the characters? What do they struggle with? Is there an emotional arch that might help the audience in their own development? Kids love to be entertained, but they might be even more happy when being offered authentic emotions to get involved with. Behind their entertaining facade, the kids in WHAT THE FINN? struggle with profound issues. The quiet moments in the film leave room for reflection about questions like: how does it feel to be forgotten? 

The adventure begins and ends with parents. 

Westerwelle: In a kid’s life, parents are always involved, but it’s nice to get away from them from time to time. The advice in my movie concerns the parents in the first place: listen to your children, be aware that they might struggle with certain emotions and need to learn how to share them, otherwise they will bottle them up inside. Children’s thoughts can be deep and dark and they have doubts about good or bad.

For a commuter the most unwanted thing is a person joining you unsolicitedly in the train. Particularly if that person acts as hideous as the guy in the film.

Westerwelle: As a child I was a commuter with a vivid imagination. Every time somebody came to sit opposite me, I imagined it was a “bad guy” and I panicked. This guy is not another harmless, clumsy antagonist, like I often see in children’s films. He might look simply annoying at first, but he is evil – this guy means danger. There is a suggestion he might hit the boy. 

How long does it take in the movie before we meet the first reasonable adult?

Westerwelle: After one and a half minutes, you get to meet Finn’s father. In my opinion all are acting pretty reasonable. Who would you consider a reasonable person?

I can’t think of anyone. All grown-ups behave pretty silly.

Westerwelle: They are simply doing their job. The police officers arrest Finn, the train conductor does exactly what is expected from her according to her function… These kids have a specific goal in mind – to go to the sea – and all those weird adults are just a motivation for them to keep going. As a child I didn’t understand adults at all. They looked weird, talked weird, and the way they interacted with me was weird. 

Then she walks into the movie… your princess! From that moment on, everything changes.

Westerwelle: Jola is a devil-angel, a dark princess. Lotte Engels has a great charisma, but she is also an actress with a true consciousness about herself. The moment she appears, the entire scenery opens up. The story started in kitchens, cars and trains, but suddenly all those wide landscapes unfold.

Nevertheless she carries a sadness inside. When feeling at her most miserable, she explains: “I’m ruining it for everybody and I just don’t care.”

Westerwelle: That is the only moment we get an insight into Jola’s motives. Many children feel like they don’t fit in, or that their energy is too big, and that therefore they’re not being loved as much as they should be. What Jola says is what I felt as a child, and what many kids might feel. 

The meeting with Jola initiates a big change in Finn.

Westerwelle: The talent of Miran Selcuk (playing Finn) is to make this evolution happen so subtly. He doesn’t change into a superhero; he is still a sensitive boy, but now he knows about friendship. And he can drive a tractor! This is what makes me sentimental about children’s films: they recall the pain of growing up. These kids are creating memories the moment they live them. The older you get, the more memories you have and the less opportunities to create new ones. Every day you can do something for the first time, but it will never be the first time again. Time is running away from you, but you still have access to the happy moments in your life by remembering them. The important thing is never to forget.

Ultimately they both accept that this is probably the end of their common story, but there might be a world out there where maybe they’ll meet again someday. 

Westerwelle: Jola closes the door on Finn, but leaves it ajar by saying: “If you ever want to get lost again, just tell me.” Throughout the entire film kids are facing the fear of being alone and forgotten. Finally they deserve a prospect, like: in your life there is room for experiments, for exploring, and for failures but in the end you know that you’re being loved, that you’re part of something bigger, something that offers you safety.

You have this eye for eccentric characters, that you don’t seem to find eccentric at all.

Westerwelle: I like big, loud women, I like drag queens, I like naked people.. A deus ex machina appears in the form of two Danish nudists. When they drive off, a church organ starts playing while a kind of divine light shines from the back of their car. God is a nudist!

You must have at least one story to tell about shooting with the biker gang.

Westerwelle: They look like a gang of tough rockers, but they were all dentists. Those are the only guys who can afford motorcycles like this, and they can afford taking a day off for a film shoot. They are actually the biggest fans of the movie and keep on promoting it among their friends. If you would check the ticket sales, you would find a surprising amount of dentists there.

Gert Hermans

“The real leader must take the back seat”

Two frustrated teenage boys train at the same Kung Fu school. Jimmy is on the verge of becoming a troublemaker, eager to use his Kung Fu for power and prestige. His ego is bruised when Li Jie joins the school – the new kid in town has great martial arts skills. To curb their rivalry, the shifu pairs them together to perform as part of a prestigious lion dance ceremony, a traditional symbol of good luck and prosperity. As the teenagers bond through the course of their training, they seem to have more in common with each other than simply Kung Fu.

This Dutch film with dancing lions and fighting Kung Fu warriors starts – how could it be otherwise – with an old Chinese story about lions and dragons. 

Are you deeply involved in that rich Chinese mythological world?

Froukje Tan: As a member of a Kung Fu school, I’ve been practicing the slow version known as Tai Chi every day for over 20 years. Kung Fu is part of who I am; that’s why I absolutely had to tell this story. I promised it to my Kung Fu brothers for years, until no one believed it anymore. Now finally it worked out.

Is that where you learned about the lion dance?

Tan: In our school, a Chinese lion always comes to dance at New Year. Once we had one dancing on pots, like at the end of the movie. The collaboration between the dancers is impressive, but I always wondered what it felt like to sit in the lion’s butt. Until I realised that it was not about individual virtuosity, but about collaboration. The real leader must take the back seat.

The authenticity of your story can’t be questioned. After all, the film was shot in co-production with China.

Tan: Eight years ago, the Netherlands and China concluded a treaty on co-production, but that turned out not to be easy. We participated in ‘Bridging the Dragon’, an industry event in which European and Chinese projects pitch for each other to stimulate collaboration. The cultural difference was striking: I found most Chinese projects incomprehensible, while they did not understand why we made a film especially for children. Ultimately we found the right people. It took a long time before all contracts were signed, but we were approved and certificated for the Chinese market. I’m hoping for a Chinese release – I’m really looking forward to that. 

Your previous children’s film SWCHWRM (2012) was a very literary story. How do you manage to make two such different films?

Tan: I adapt to the story that needs to be told. I try to imagine something and that’s how I film it. That’s what I like about this job: you think of something and then it comes to life. Because SWCHWRM was more of a poem, I remained a bit detached. But with KUNG FU LION I wanted to touch people emotionally. That’s why I had to get inside that lion – that perspective was the closest I could get to Jimmy.

Did you work closely together with the Chinese community in the Netherlands?

Tan: It is not easy to get Kung Fu schools to work together, because they each hold on to their own style. But we made it happen! My Kung Fu brothers helped train the dancers.

Is it so difficult to get all those schools to use the same style?

Tan: Style differences are huge, and schools assume that “our style is better than yours”. The most clear and obvious difference is between the northern style – which looks very acrobatic with high jumps, like Li Jie fights in the film – and the southern style, that’s more of a powerful ‘working-class style’. I thought it was nice to mix these different traditions together.

A lot of communication in the film is done through hand gestures.

Tan: They were taught by the shifu. His name is Kar-Yung Lau and he is a legendary actor from the Chinese martial arts genre.

Tell me more!

Tan: He is known by martial arts fans all over the world. In the 80s he was an action hero who acted alongside Jackie Chan, among others. When he arrived on set, he immediately knew everything better; everything here was going far too slowly for his liking. So I explained to him that we were making a movie for kids and that it wasn’t so much about the action, but about the characters and what they feel. He understood – from then on we were friends. He said, “I’ll give you everything I know and you can do whatever you want with it.” When he later saw the film, he gave me the biggest compliment: “This is really about Kung Fu, about Kung Fu schools and how we are like family to each other. Films are rarely made about that.”

His mentorship was practical rather than spiritual?

Tan: He had quite a few scenes with dialogue, until it turned out that he barely understood English. I threw out almost all the dialogue and he brought everything back to the purely physical. He was trained as a shifu by his mother, true to the family style. I asked him to teach his film pupils in the same tradition. This shifu specialised in the lion dance and had to convey his knowledge through animal gestures. I gave him a clear order: from those tiger-like positions, approach the lion and make him jump for the first time. By allowing him freedom, everything happened spontaneously – that’s how you create magical moments on set. The way in which he finds faults with everyone in the group session is completely spontaneous. That’s how my shifu would do it too.

“There can be Kung Fu in everything,” he says, as he is cutting vegetables.

Tan: Kung Fu literally means: to excel at something through a lot of practice. But for that you need to give attention, love and focus. Which you can only do if you really want to learn something.

Your main actors must have physical qualities!

Tan: First I found Haye Lee (playing Li) and he was really good, so we had to find someone to match his capacities. Acting experience was useful, but to perform those martial arts scenes you firstly need the skills. Children who practice martial arts are used to listening to a coach; they pick up my instructions much more easily. Kung Fu is above all very graceful, and this film could look a bit more rough – so actors could also come from karate or taekwondo. I came across Tyrell Williams through a call on a martial arts website. He has such a nice smile, but some find him too grumpy.

Why is Jimmy always angry?

Tan: When you’re 14 or 15 years old, your parents are by definition annoying, right? Jimmy considers his father to be a softie, a loser who should more often stand up for himself. He is also angry because he tries so hard to do everything right, but that goes unnoticed. He tells the shifu that he wants to be the best, and then the guy just puts him in the lion’s ass. 

Did Tyrell and Lee have the right physical qualifications?

Tan: They trained hard. It can take years to learn that lion dance, and they had to do it in a few days. It’s not just about flexibility, but also about strength. That lifting is pretty tough. That’s why the roles were cast correctly: the power needs to be in the back.

Those Kung Fu fights also require a special sound design.

Tan: In martial arts films, those whooshing sounds are often added underneath every gesture… “phew… swoosh…” like in a cartoon. We didn’t want to exaggerate that; this story didn’t have to be cartoonish. But now and then we have the deep growl of a real lion mixed into the sound.

And then there is the sound of the drums.

Tan: The dance goes like this: the lion sleeps and when he wakes up, he is hungry. He has to go after his prey: a head of lettuce. If he can grab the lettuce and crush it, good luck will come to everyone in the new year. The dance builds up to the moment when the lion jumps to grab the lettuce, and all these ritual movements are led by the drums. Just like for the movements, we mix different traditions in the drum patterns. We brought in an expert to merge both styles – north and south – into the rhythm. The young Kung Fu brothers were not used to playing drums in that particular style. They had to learn it from the shifu – so the scared, uncertain look on that drumming girl’s face is real.

And the music is – let me guess! – a fusion of different styles?

Tan: It was made in China. Through the Dutch-Chinese co-production, we had Chinese animation, two Chinese actors and a Chinese composer. Through one actors’ connections we ended up with perhaps the most famous Chinese film composer. Roc Chen worked on the soundtrack with Joshua C. Love, an American professor with a profound knowledge of Chinese music. 

You also use traditional Chinese elements in the art design, e.g. the transitions between certain scenes.

Tan: I made those abstract decorations myself. At night I sat at the table with glass jars, water and ink. Those flowing lines were an oriental-looking element that I used to fit scenes together. It looks like water in an aquarium. Did you know that I even cast the fish for the aquarium in the film myself? I wanted them to open their mouths in a certain way. At one point in the film, Jimmy feels more affinity with the fish than with his parents. I am keeping the aquarium now at my home.

Gert Hermans

“This is how I experienced my teenage years: shockingly brutal”

Why does everyone want to go on holiday to those charming French villages? You wonder… because there is absolutely nothing to do! Jordan and Patrick should know, they live there and they are bored to death. Now even their PlayStation console – faithful companion in gloomy moments – is letting them down. They come up with a brilliant plan: Jordan will pretend to be severely ill and launch an online campaign to make his last wish come true: a PlayStation 5. The plan seems to work, but the lie turns against them with a force that they couldn’t foresee.

JUNIORS starts hilariously, but if you think the laughing will never stop, you’re wrong. After 20 minutes the film changes tone drastically and we are confronted with razor-sharp dilemmas. The only things that remain are the heat and the village life, and both are equally suffocating.

JUNIORS starts with one of the weirdest opening images ever. 

Hugo P. Thomas: In the months before the shoot, I thought about this image every night. I have this habit of falling asleep while imagining the project I’m working on. I have seen this picture in my dreams a million times. This is the story of a boy feeling stuck in the countryside, and in this image he is really “stuck” – literally.

We’re in a place where nothing ever happens and everyone is full of expectations about a life that will start later, someday, somewhere… but not here and now. 

Thomas: It’s exactly about this feeling of being stuck while you dream about seeing the world. This is exactly how I felt when growing up in the countryside. It was in the early days of the internet and it felt like the world was suddenly within reach, but actually we were as stuck as before. This frustrating paradox, I wanted to address in this film.

More than anywhere else, life in France happens in the big city.

Thomas: France is all about Paris, but where I grew up Lyon was the nearest big city. We make films about the suburbs, about people living in the ghettos, the banlieues, and the many problems they are facing. But they have role models, people from the neighbourhood who made it as famous actors or football players. In the countryside where I grew up, we didn’t have a single success story. And I felt like people never made films about us.

Is that why a lot of kissing is going on in the background? Is it because they’re French, or because they simply feel bored?

Thomas: I’m not sure how it is in other countries, but when I come back to my hometown, I often see teenagers with nothing better to do than literally kissing all day long. It looks a bit pathetic, I know, but they’re having the time of their lives. We follow two teenage boys – kissing a girl would be their ultimate dream! I wonder if it’s the same in other countries, or is it just me being French, promoting the art of French kissing?

Another thing that marks the film is the season: summer is for fun, excitement and big expectations, but then again nothing much is happening.

Thomas: As a teenager, summer in the countryside was inspiring, with the rivers and lakes and a sense of adventure in the air. I love the imagery of films like LES ROSEAUX SAUVAGES (by André Téchiné, 1994).

Jordan’s house with its pink bathroom and yellow kitchen feels like a kind of dollhouse.

Thomas: Women seemingly have more decisive power when it comes to interior decoration than men, and that amuses me. Such ultra feminine houses make me smile. She is a single mother so the place should look like hers.

She is not just a single mother… She is also Vanessa Paradis.

Thomas: Vanessa is truly an icon, a living part of French history. In the cinema industry, sometimes the most famous people are also the most professional. I sent the script to her agent and two days later there was a reply. She was very professional but also super nice.

She does a great job, making me wonder what it would be like, being a single mum in a place with so little prospects for the future.

Thomas: She came to this house with her husband, and with a picture in her mind about the future, and none of it really happened. I often don’t like famous superstars playing simple working class people, but Vanessa Paradis comes from a very normal background and for her it totally worked. 

Another interesting character is the school principal with her one blue hair strand… A great example of small town glamour.

Thomas: That’s exactly what it is. I’ve never seen as much fashion fantasy as with 50 year old ladies in the countryside. At this age they feel an urge to re-invent themselves, and then the haircuts come in all colours and shapes.

I appreciate your observations! Do you have one for that outrageous gym teacher too?

Thomas: For the sport scenes I was unconsciously influenced by the soccer scene in KES (by Ken Loach, 1969). They have a soccer game and there is this teacher who is super involved and cheats because he wants to be the winner. Then my co-writer found a guy on YouTube who did ‘extreme self-defence’ clips. What on earth does that mean?! We hired him as our gym teacher. In his YouTube videos he works with super flexible professional karateka’s, but now he had to perform with a bunch of youngsters and that was great fun. He is a nice guy, but he is also a martial arts teacher and you can sense all the time that he truly loves violence. He is full of paradoxes.

Talking about violence… Let’s talk about video games! This cliché really seems to bother you.

Thomas: In complex matters, people always come with simple explanations. I love the movie SCREAM because it mocks the cliché that watching scary movies will make you a serial killer. I’m not taking a position in the video game debate, but I played around with the cliché that video games make kids act violently.

What is so mythical about a PlayStation 5?

Thomas: When we shot the movie, it was really difficult to get a hold of a PlayStation 5. When the model came out, it was sold out immediately and the demand still exceeds the supply. It’s the latest model – the best one – and it’s still hard to find, so it comes with a special status. My co-writer Jules Lugan is the gaming expert. This movie tells about teenagers with a passion. Mine was cinema, but his passion was gaming. In the beginning of the movie the boys play video games, but by the end they kind of live one, chased by a mad crowd. They now experience in reality what they experienced before in the virtual world.

How was it for your art department to prepare that party scene?

Thomas: They did a great job. It was by far the hardest moment of the shoot. We were not allowed to work with youngsters during the night. We gathered 60 teenagers in full costume inside a small house during a heatwave, the script girl was ill and everybody was on the verge of losing it. I could have fainted. The scene is not exactly how I wanted it to be – I could have done it twice as good under better circumstances.

In times of political correctness, here is a director who still dares to make jokes about cancer!

Thomas: Me and my co-writer Jules were in film school together, but then he got cancer. When I presented the project to him, I wasn’t sure whether he was going to appreciate it. No research required – all the knowledge is with him. I don’t want to use him as an alibi for the way in which I’m  dealing with the topic of ‘cancer’, but his approval made me feel safe, even when sometimes people who had lost a relative to cancer left the cinema. For Jules this was also a kind of therapy and a tribute to his persistence.

You found a question that Siri couldn’t answer!

Thomas: I am obsessed with this question ‘Am I a good person?’. The answer that I got from Siri was the one as I’ve used in the movie: “I can’t tell”. 

That thought stuck with me after the film: most people aren’t that bad. I presume that usually films about people with good intentions are made by good people.

Thomas: Thank you! Most of what people do, is done with the best intentions, even if we screw up from time to time. You could say that Jordan and his mother have terrible communication, but the notes she leaves on the fridge are proof of a profound love. Jordan and Patrick have told a horrible lie, but if you see the bigger context, you feel compassion. Often people have good intentions but that’s not enough to make a relationship work. 

Jordan’s punishment might at the same time be the thing that saves him: a ticket out of this suffocating village.

Thomas: He did a very bad thing and deserves a punishment – I couldn’t let him get away with it. The movie needs a balance between violence and warmth. That is how I experienced my teenage years: shockingly brutal. The world is a cruel place at the age of 14: teenagers and teachers can be super mean… You are completely innocent and then all of a sudden… bang! You have lived your childhood years in a protective world, and then suddenly brutality hits you.

Gert Hermans

“Children are slaves to our need for supervision”

Jeremi, a YouTuber with a talent for loneliness and isolation, must spend the summer with his grandfather in the countryside. The healing green environment turns into a challenging place when a robot appears on the scene and hands him weird assignments. Like, creating a message for aliens in the form of a film. To fulfil his task, Jeremi gradually makes friends with a group of kids. The story is a trigger to send children into nature where they confront their own primary emotions. The methods used by Polish director Piotr Stasik were not obvious, as he explained during the Filem’on festival.

In the early seventies, messages were sent into space to inform eventual aliens about the human race. 

Piotr Stasik: This idea was at the origin of the movie. In my opinion they should have asked children to send those messages, who would speak more directly from the heart. Sincere emotions could describe our lives much better than mathematical calculations, boasting about the achievements of humankind.

Like the miracles of the internet. In the opening scenes we get to see the bizarre clips that Jeremy posts online.

Stasik: In the preparation phase of the movie, I met numerous children. When asking them about their future profession, most of them answered: I want to get rich and famous through YouTube or TikTok. That is what 80% of these children dreamed about, so I used it as the starting point of our story.

Watching your film had a surprisingly disorienting, alienating effect on me. 

Stasik: I focus more on energy than on structure. Our producer got scared when I told him: we only need a script to throw it away. The script was only the basis, everything else came from improvisations with the children. I never gave the actors – or should I say ‘characters’? – specific dialogues and we never used a clapperboard. We worked with a very small crew: just me, one sound guy and one set assistant. We made this movie together with the children; we were all directors. Sometimes it was even better for us to leave the set for a while and leave it all up to the kids.

Does that make the movie reflect their daily lives?

Stasik: I was looking for children that stood close to the characters they played; entering the set for them felt like a natural prolongation of their everyday life. When Jeremi meets his new friends, it takes a long time for them to connect… just like in reality. The kids don’t use their real names in the film, but on the set they called each other all the time by their character names.

Looking for references, this is certainly no Pippi Longstocking! I was more thinking of LORD OF THE FLIES. 

Stasik: Our DNA doesn’t evolve as fast as the processors in our smartphones. Deep inside we’re still wild forest animals, relying on our instincts. You see Jeremi returning to a rather primary state of mankind. Compared to LORD OF THE FLIES, our story goes the opposite direction. Children left to their own devices are able to build a new, positive society. People are both good and bad, and in LORD OF THE FLIES the wrong choices are being made. Jeremi’s father has a hand in all this. He knows that Jeremi needs to meet other people. Only through meeting others can you become a complete human being. 

It feels like the movie was shot in one location.

Stasik: It wasn’t. What I was looking for were abandoned, empty spaces that we could make our own territory, and where we would hang out from morning till evening. Spending time together adds many layers to the story. Like when we could hang out in this forgotten scrapyard for old trains. That was a private collection, run and curated by two old men, without a budget or a clear purpose. I found it by accident, simply following my intuition.

Throughout the film the kids are often observing each other, while all the time somebody “up there” is observing them. 

Stasik: Everyone is observing everyone, and they all seem to be afraid of real life; they watch it rather than live it. That is why we are hiding on the internet. Online, we don’t feel alone, but in fact we are. The most important advice in my movie is: when feeling bad, go outside and meet others.” It sounds easy, but for many people it seems to be very difficult.

Does it feel like the story told of FILM FOR ALIENS is completed?

Stasik: Children and parents often ask me about a sequel, but I decided to do something different. I’m launching a social project taking children back into nature. Supported by the Leonardo Da Vinci Foundation, we’ll make forest journeys, spending time outdoors. All we offer the kids is space. For my movie I observed many children and I saw the impact that wild nature has on them. The first hour might be difficult, they might feel uncomfortable or afraid. But after one hour a change is setting in. My parents were farmers and I spent a lot of time alone with books in nature. Now I want to offer the children of today a similar experience.

What you need to inspire them is nothing but a certain place or environment?

Stasik: Kids can find those places everywhere, even in New York. When I went there with my film, I provided a ‘Laboratory of Adventure’ workshop for the festival. Our biggest challenge is overcoming the parents’ anxiety and their desire for control. On Facebook one boy posted that this workshop had been the best adventure of his life. Parents all remember this feeling – “our childhood felt so much better” – but they can’t let go of control. Children are unhappy due to their lack of freedom; they’re slaves to our need for supervision. We’re killing our children with control mechanisms. What we need is nothing less than a revolution.

What kind of tasks do you give them in your Laboratory?

Stasik: We send them into the forest, alone, for two hours. We give them ropes to build a tent, or a stack of books. I’ve seen them playing for hours with a simple typewriter! And why should they wash themselves if they’ll get dirty again anyway?

What is your biggest challenge as a filmmaker?

Stasik: Because my methods are rather unconventional, everyone thinks I’m crazy. People try to control me, just like they’re trying to control children. Almost every day I have to fight for the things I want to do, and all the time it feels like someone is trying to slaughter my inner child. Luckily they don’t know where exactly he’s hiding…

Gert Hermans

After an exciting Award Ceremony, the 17th edition of the International Film Festival for Young Audiences, Filem’On has come to an end. We were ecstatic to finally be able to welcome you in the cinemas of Brussels! It was a wonderful edition! We enjoyed every minute of it and hopefully you did too! Together we look forward to the next edition in 2024! As for now, Filem’On is very excited to announce the 2023 festival laureates!

Scroll down in the green frame to read the complete newsletter.

The holidays aren’t over yet so Filem’on wants to remind you of the super cool city game we made! Are you going to solve the mysteries in the city of Brussels? Let us know! You can find the whole game with map here!

Panel “Telling stories for the new generation of European Cultural Diversity; co-production and cooperation through the lens of  European Children’s Film”

Participants and guests were warmly welcomed by Hilde Steenssens, representing the Filem’On festival, co-hosting this event together with KIDS Regio. Today’s moderator Elisabeth Wenk (KIDS Regio) in her introduction referred to her own first cinema experience and the impact it had. Films for young audiences can work as a tool to develop a sense for style and aesthetics, and to create one’s personal identity within the bigger context of a European cultural identity.

PART 1: GOOD PRACTICES (4 PRESENTATIONS)

1. Camiel Schouwenaar, director of BIGMAN (The Netherlands / Germany)

The genesis of this film, produced by the Dutch company Rinkel Film, reflects the importance of European cooperation.

• Financing came from several European sources, like the Dutch Film Fund, Eurimages, the Cultural Fund, MDM, etc. With a big player like Netflix on board, financing went fast and smoothly.
• Tasks were divided between two co-producing nations (for instance, sound, make-up and colour-grading were done by the German partner).
• Development in the Cinekid Script Lab (coaching, structuring the script) and the Cinekid Directors Lab (preparing the shooting). Both pan-European programmes brought a profound added value to the project.
• For a film primarily targeting a domestic audience, the success in the festival circuit is a proof of its international appeal and of a universal appreciation.

Camiel Schouwenaar on directing young actors:

• A good casting is crucial, in terms of both the acting and the energy to endure and not to give up. The young cast all together should have the right dynamics. Therefor you can make them spend time together already before the shooting starts.
• The focus is on the quality of the script, to which young actors can add surprising elements and give great new impulses.
• Plenty of patience and diplomacy, and a solid preparation are needed to make it a positive experience, like it has been with BIGMAN.

2. Anna J. Ljungmark, producer of GABI, BETWEEN AGES 8 AND 13

Anna J. Ljungmark is producer, consultant, production editor,… for ‘House of Real’.

GABI, BETWEEN AGES 8 AND 13 follows a young person in its process of growing up, which has its consequences:

• Being extremely careful with content
• Getting the entire family involved (“but we wanted to stay 100% focused on Gabi”)
• Getting the school involved
• Permission is always required.

Several obstacles occurred:

• TV station TV8 considered the protagonist too vulnerable and foresaw the risk of exploitation, which scared off other broadcasters.
• Financing came from National Swedish Funding bodies, like the National Film Institute and the regional Film I Skåne + support from Creative Europe.
• The business model was risky: production came first, financing came second place (and was only finalized in a late stadium of production). Documentary makers can’t waste time!
• GABI was not financed nor labelled or promoted as a children’s film.

Current situation: the film has been traveling to 30 countries already, was awarded, sold to broadcasters, etc. Nevertheless the domestic cinema release in Sweden was problematic, as the target audience wasn’t clearly defined. Impact creation was done for very specific screenings.

3. Ljubica Lukovic, script writer of HOW I LEARNED TO FLY

This Serbian-Croatian-Slovak-Bulgarian co-production was made after a script debut, based on a novel.

Challenges in writing:

• The delicate aspect of war that required 12 draft versions of the script;
• Combining 2 perspectives: Sofia and Grandma:
• Set in a specific time, so how to make sure to capture “the youth of today”? (young actors were involved in that process);
• Bringing to life Sofia’s rich phantasy world by using animations;
• Language problems to be solved (Serbian versus Croatian).

Challenges in shooting:

• Touristic region = busy region = expensive region;
• Extra Covid-measures were required;
• Weather circumstances were difficult;
• No extras on the set, so crew members served as extra actors.

Co-production circumstances:

• Funding from Creative Europe Media was crucial;
• Producing in low-capacity countries is key!
• Location scouting and casting was done in 3 countries.

Promotion:

• Targeting two different audience sections (kids 8–10; mothers 35+) with different trailers;
• ‘Feel good’ as key word;
• Croatian premiere in the arena of the prestigious Pula Film Festival;
• Making the film travel to small villages without cinema accommodation.

Result: number 1 in Serbian cinemas!

Conclusions:

• Kids’ choices regarding films to watch are steered by what the cinemas offer them. If we offer an alternative, they might choose for it.
• The tone of the story: Kindness can be cool!
• Children’s films can and should reflect the reality, not shying away from serious topics like war, with family reconciliation as a narrative background to our story.
• There was a narrative layer attracting the parents and adults.

4. Viviane Vanfleteren, producer of TITINA

This Norwegian animation in co-production with Belgium, telling a semi-realistic story about the first dog on the North Pole, has been successfully released in Norway. The marketing campaign was mainly targeting family audience with a well-known story, and famous actors doing the dubbing. There was one special open air screening with dogs in Bergen.

Co-production set up:

Only 2 countries were involved, which is both challenging and easy; control over one production pipeline can relatively easy be maintained. The development was done in Norway (2014), Belgium partnered in 2017. The total budget was € 8,2 million (increasing in a later stadium) for a production with a rather costly style of animation.

• Animation has a longer lifespan than live action;
• Already sold to 25 countries;
• No streamer on board; the entire focus is on a full cinema release + TV.

PART 2: PANEL – Searching for common grounds

Extra panel member: Bernadette Forsthuber (Creative Europe Media)

What is the ‘super power’ of children’s film? Or in other words: What is its cultural impact?

Camiel Schouwenaar: These are stories from which you can learn about life, about others, watching other children with whom you can sympathize. Film education should not only deal with film techniques but also with content and stories.

Viviane Vanfleteren: Only films for pre-schoolers we still classify as “children’s films”, all film targeting an 8+ age group we consider as “movies”. We must seek for new qualifications and labels, not simply based on the element of violence, which can also be found in widely accepted titles like BAMBI, SNOWWHITE, THE LION KING, etc.

Anna J. Ljungmark: Children’s films are perceived differently and don’t get the same artistic acclaim as other titles. That’s why during the financing and production process, we never labelled our film as such. For marketing reasons we also refused to premier in a festival’s children section, as this would have resulted in less cinema screening windows and less media attention.

The importance of the development trajectory

Ljubica Lukovic: We made use of several development trajectories, which felt as a necessity as we wanted our film to travel, even with an initially local story. Script doctors have profoundly helped us to reach that goal.

How does this international funding system work?

Bernadette Forsthuber: Creative Europe supports training initiatives and markets; the final choice of film projects is made by the training initiatives. We aim for a balanced geographical spreading, which could even include non-European participants.

We’re happy with the growing amount of projects from low capacity countries and the attention given to co-development and film education.

We support seven children’s film festivals in a festival network.

Anna J. Ljungmark: My experience tells me: the better the budget, the better the film. Another key to a good film is the development and the time you invest in it. That is why training programmes are crucial.

What is the importance of co-production?

Anna J. Ljungmark: Co-producing will always create extra problems, for instance with languages, paperwork, and especially the international Covid situation. But producers often build networks through regular producing with the same partners.

Camiel Schouwenaar: Co-production should leave room for filmmakers to follow their own intuition. In our case we struggled with finding the right composer within our co-production agreement.

Viviane Vanfleteren: I would love to work more often with low capacity countries, but salaries here are simply too high.

Which stories should be told?

Ljubica Lukovic: This question should be answered by the children themselves; we should consult them about every aspect. Not only about the perspective of the child, but about the topic and how you present it.

What does Creative Europe want from producers?

Bernadette Forsthuber: Cooperation is crucial. That is why we need to get to know each other; we need to know what you are working on. Among European films, children’s films are often among the most successful – even scoring top 10 positions – so we should understand their potential.

This forum was organised in cooperation with the Vertretung des Freistaats Thüringen bei der EU, with the support of ECFA and the Creative Europe Media Desk.

Report: Gert Hermans