Greek filmmaker Lucas Paleocrassas has been at the Sarajevo Film Festival for the regional premiere of his latest work, Bugboy, in the Documentary Competition. Bugboy follows the title character, Yorgos, a Greek teen with misaligned eyes and a special bond with insects who finds a unique source of strength and friendship in two crickets named Isabella and Ferdinand.

Cineuropa: Do you see Yorgos’ story as inherently of a coming-of-age nature? Could you tell us more about the way you wanted to depict this type of narrative?
Lucas Paleocrassas: For me, the coming-of-age dimension emerged organically from Yorgos himself and really became apparent during the shoot. While he had built an extraordinarily rich inner world around his passion for insects, he seemed disconnected from the rest of the world around him. His father’s overprotectiveness also played a part in this. Albeit coming from genuine love and concern, his attitude had kept Yorgos fairly tame when it came to taking risks and exploring beyond the safety of his private space. But as Yorgos gradually became more comfortable with us and with the camera, I saw that he was gaining confidence and that he wanted to be more daring.

After the summer adventure he had with Ferdinand, which led to the decision to undergo surgery on his eyes, I felt that a major shift in his social surroundings was about to happen. I was, however, very careful not to force this into a conventional coming-of-age structure. In real life, Yorgos did start connecting more with people his age, including girls, but it never felt like one world simply replaced the other. The insects were still there, as the new friendships grew slowly and unevenly alongside them. What interested me was observing what happens when someone who has found safety in isolation reluctantly starts to discover that there might also be a place for him among other people, but without turning that discovery into something neat or predetermined.

As we learn later in the film, much of Yorgos’ time with his father, Kostas, is confined to just weekends or, in any case, short spans, owing to his parents’ divorce. What can you tell us about the process of filming and portraying this father-son relationship within these constraints?
In a way, it worked out well because the time they had together was mostly on weekends, and those were exactly the days I could be there to film them. It gave me the opportunity to follow the very specific rhythm of this part of Yorgos’ life: watch him arrive at his father’s, see his excitement upon returning to his pets and insects, and then observe the various dynamics that unfolded between him and his father. I was thus able to capture not only the things they enjoyed doing together, but also the small frictions and misunderstandings that arose. As I kept returning to this relationship regularly over a long period, it allowed me to really see how it worked instead of trying to piece it together from a handful of separate encounters.

We also witness Yorgos’ fondness for other animals, such as pet birds, but the focus is clearly on insects and bugs. Was it your intention from the outset to focus on his love for his crickets, Isabella and Ferdinand, or were there other strands and subplots that you explored along the way?
Yorgos has a passion for anything related to nature and animals. His special bond with a pigeon he named Danai was another subplot we explored. Through that relationship, we saw another side of the way he emotionally connects with animals, and perhaps the way these relationships help him navigate a sense of absence or loneliness. However, the relationship Yorgos has with insects was always the most important one. They are a fundamental part of the way he understands himself and the world around him. Isabella and Ferdinand became an extension of Yorgos’ inner world, and through his relationship with them, we were able to understand things about him that he might not have been able to express directly.

The film really places the emphasis on cinematic intimacy with the critters, which elicits empathy in quite a unique manner. How did this factor in to your approach to the film?
From the beginning, I knew I wanted to shoot the movie in a way that would immerse the viewer in Yorgos’ world. I wanted to make Yorgos’ microcosm feel vivid and present, and to show how he sees these insects as well as how he sees himself through them. I wanted to look at Yorgos the same way he looks at his creatures: closely, patiently and with special attention paid to the small details we usually overlook. Using macro photography allowed us to enter a world that is physically tiny, but emotionally immense for him. The intimacy coming from it was meant to shift our perception. When you spend enough time looking at a creature most people find strange or even frightening, its face, its movements and its behaviour start to feel familiar. My hope was that the film would make us look at these insects and at people like Yorgos with a little more curiosity and empathy.

Were there any moments during the filming process that were particularly unexpected or surprised you – and made it into the final cut?
One of my favourite surprises was what is shown in the tourist sequence, when people started gathering around him. Suddenly, the outside world was drawn to Yorgos, and not the other way around. There were also unexpected moments with his father. When the latter tells the eye doctor he doesn’t want Yorgos to have the procedure, we suddenly understand how deeply rooted in fear his protectiveness is.