22/08/2025 - The Swedish director takes on the topic of mental health and, in particular, the whole industry surrounding it

(© Patrik Hammarsten)

In her fourth feature, The Dance Club, premiering in the Nordic Focus section of the 53rd Norwegian International Film Festival at Haugesund, Swedish director Lisa Langseth takes on the topic of mental health and, in particular, the whole industry surrounding it. And neither she nor her five protagonists are very happy about the state of things.

Cineuropa: At first glance, The Dance Club shares some similarities with your second film, Hotell [+see also:
trailer
film profile], where a “guerrilla” group of psychiatric patients do their own therapy thing, outside of “the system”.
Lisa Langseth: There’s definitely a link between the two films, as they both involve a group of patients. But The Dance Club is much more a criticism of a system, an industry that piqued my curiosity. We’ve been moving towards a diagnosis culture, consisting of concepts and labels we’ve started to identity ourselves with. During my research, which was extensive, I went from being interested to shocked to angry. The manner in which these diagnoses are determined, which can only be called arbitrary and capricious, is upsetting – including among some of the therapists I interviewed. You also realise what an enormous money machine all of this is. I set out to make a film that would address some of these burning issues, while shying away from something too downbeat and instead injecting some playfulness into the story. It’s always joyful to approach a very serious topic, and then take it a bit lightly.

How do you strike this delicate balance between the tender and the rough, between light and gloom?
I wanted it to be a warm film, bringing some joy to the notion of being a human being, with all that it entails, including being a bit funny in the head. And to the notion that we’re not alone. It’s probably my kindest film so far.

We have five main protagonists – a Psychology student and four patients – who end up forming a group, the dance club of the title. They seek out certain places and/or people connected to a traumatic experience, and perform a group dance as a kind of testimonial of resistance, which seems to have a cleansing effect. What made you choose this form of expression?
I chose dance because I wanted them to do something physical as a project. When you dance, you are your body. It’s raw, unpretentious and unintellectual, and also funny and quite naïve – to me, naïveté is quite a positive word and is badly needed in our cynical world. Their action is so easily deflated, like a needle to a balloon, and they certainly can’t dance. But still, they do it. And that’s that.

Did you bring in a choreographer for their act?
I certainly did: Anna Vnuk, who is a good friend and has vast experience in the Stockholm theatre scene. She devised a choreography that would fit each character and the group as a whole.

When you put the group together, what kinds of characters were you looking for?
I started out pretty “blank” and looked for certain energies and mindsets, and then they started to take shape, and all I had to do was move along with them. No one was written with any special actor in mind, so everyone was cast later on. I wanted a diverse group of people whom we immediately wouldn’t think would go together. But they find this community with each other, despite it all, which gives me a little hope for humanity.

You’ve cast established actors and also made a couple of “outside” choices, among them Evelyn Mok, a stand-up comedian, and Julia Franzén, who’s probably best-known from reality shows and baking programmes.
We had this character who’d had some cosmetic surgery done, and we almost gave up, but then Julia turned up. The opening scene between her and Pernilla August went wonderfully. I greatly enjoy putting very different types of acting schools up against each other. It almost immediately gets funny.

Pernilla August plays a fine villain as the head psychologist.
Undoubtedly. It’s the first time we’d worked together, and she was fantastic.

We’ve already touched upon the light tone, and you also decided to end it on a high note together with our friends, despite everything…
Despite all the labels they’ve had to endure being placed upon them, they manage to break free. I wanted them to feel like heroes because of it. They did it their own way. As a viewer, I’m thinking that the dancing thing may look quite silly at the beginning of the story, but by the end, we may actually feel that, damn it, we want to join in.