14/08/2024 - The Swiss duo expand on their artistic universe, their passion for still-life, and cinema as a means for experimenting with alternative family ties

This time taking on different roles - Ramon behind the camera and Silvan heading up production – the Zürcher brothers are presenting their third feature film, The Sparrow in the Chimney [+see also:
film review
trailer
interview: Ramon and Silvan Zürcher
film profile], at the Locarno Film Festival, where it’s in the running for the Golden Leopard. Theirs is a cruel and mysterious film, reflecting upon the artificial nature of blood ties and flirting unashamedly with different film genres.

Cineuropa: Starting with their titles, your films always seem to be the continuation of a dialogue which grows in richness from one film to the next. Could we call them a trilogy, in this respect?
Ramon Zürcher: It was never our intention to make a trilogy. It was only at the end of the three films that we noticed they were united by family ties, and their different similarities. It’s not so much the presence of animals but the fact that these films explore family spaces, whether "blood" families or communities. The central element in these three stories is their psychological dimension. All of them explore the desire to live another life. Often, our protagonists live in a nostalgic state, dreaming of another life, as if this were possible, and it’s this melancholy which dominates the three films’ emotional realm. There’s a little obsession of ours which appears in all of our films, which involves not moving the camera unless it’s necessary and justified, and never holding the camera in our hands so as not to give the impression of authenticity or of a documentary. We do want to depict a life, but a recreated, artificial one.

On the subject of destruction, in the film your characters say all the things you should never say when you come together as a family. The dialogues are really harsh and brutal, as if you were looking to destroy the idyllic image society sells us of the hetero-patriarchal family. Blood ties are also undermined by other kinds of relationships…
RZ: Yes, I agree with your analysis. Do we need to deconstruct the concept of family in order for something new to take root? Violence, minor and major verbal assaults become invisible hammers which destroy everything, which hurt, which don’t care about politeness, so that new families, in the wider sense of the term, can see the light of day. We often associate destruction with something negative, but sometimes we have to deconstruct what’s toxic so that something healthy can take root, to create new spaces. Just like with a phoenix, their ashes then create fertile ground.

Silvan Zürcher: In terms of the characters’ brutal words, given that we’re not dealing with a realistic and faithful version of a family, we were able to create really cruel dialogues. The film universe is incredibly condensed, like a play, where micro-aggressions are placed under the microscope and "enlarged" so that the viewer sees them differently. Contrasts – between the natural paradise which provides shelter for the family and the darkness of their words, between chaos and order, between static and movement states – are very important to us.

Interior spaces and, primarily, objects are very important in your films. Where does this fetishisation of inanimate objects come from, which often speak volumes on the characters’ personal lives?
RZ: Objects, like the knife handled by the mother or the little girl’s bird mask, are there, but they’re not really central to the film until they reappear, and that’s when we really, consciously notice them. We come to associate them with the characters, they’re a part of their private world. The film is divided into three chapters - the morning, the afternoon and the evening - and the film’s objects punctuate these moments, like sentences, like full stops and commas. Objects and animals, as well as humans, are all still-life. It’s really a question of still-life composed of living objects.

At times, we feel the film turning into a horror film, sliding into the supernatural. What is your relationship with genre films?
RZ: Horror and psychological thrillers are genres which focus on abysses, and I really like that. I also like detective films. In fact, The Sparrow in the Chimney does flirt with different genres, it’s fluid and unpredictable. It takes us back to the matter of deconstruction and reconstruction, and this is especially clear in the final part of the film where the "genre film" dimension is most apparent. Is Karen manipulative or is she the manipulated one? The fire scene is a little reminiscent of films like Carrie or giallo films, the haunted house subgenre, or bunny boiler movies. We like to play with different elements and different genres, and to create friction.

(Translated from French)