In her feature debut, Cute, playing in San Sebastián’s New Directors section, Marlene Emilie Lyngstad portrays a man tormented by his attraction to children. She discusses how to create empathy without neglecting a sense of responsibility, protecting the child actor, and using bright, summery imagery to make the film’s questions harder to avoid.

Cineuropa: Why did you choose such an unsettling subject for your feature debut?
Marlene Emilie Lyngstad: I find it difficult to ignore the things that make me sad or uneasy. Since one spends many years making a film, I needed to choose a subject without any easy answers, so that it would remain stimulating throughout that time. I wanted to investigate something that unsettled me: the blurred line between romantic love and the pursuit of a fantasy.

Was it difficult to secure support for the film?
Yes and no. New Danish Screen, a Danish Film Institute programme for debut films, supported us early on. However, securing more mainstream backing from television channels was very difficult.

The subject is extremely dark, but the film is colourful and luminous. Why did you want that contrast?
I worked on it closely with the production designer and cinematographer. The characters are complex and contradictory, so I wanted the film language to be contradictory as well. Although the subject is dark, the story takes place in summer and is full of colour. Terrible things can happen even when everything is beautifully lit.

How did you cast actors willing to take on such risky roles?
Jan Gunnar Røise, who plays Richard, had worked with me on my graduation film, Norwegian Offspring. He played another character who was difficult to identify with, so I knew he was interested in challenging roles. He joined Cute before the script was written. Gina Jaqueline, who plays Stella, also became involved early on. I contacted her while researching cuteness and why some adults are drawn to that aesthetic. She told me that, like Stella, she worked on OnlyFans and had experience with erotic role-play online, so she became a consultant on the script. I found her presence fascinating and invited her to audition. After auditioning alongside many trained actors, she proved to be the best person for the role.

How did you approach working with the young actress and her parents?
It was essential to cast the parents as well as the child because they would be central to the process. I presented the whole film to them, they read the script, and we spoke at length about why and how I wanted to make it. They needed to genuinely want the film to exist. They guided me on the language to use with their daughter. The disturbing quality comes from the wider context, rather than her individual scenes. For her, those scenes were enjoyable: she was playing and developing a warm relationship with her fictional stepfather. She does not yet know the full context, but her parents will discuss it with her when she is old enough to process it.

The film provokes both revulsion towards Richard and empathy for his struggle. Was that tension fundamental to the project?
Richard did not choose how he feels, and his attraction torments him. That makes part of his struggle universal. Most people do not share this attraction, but many understand justified shame: there is a reason for him to be ashamed, yet he has to learn how to live with it. The film asks the audience: should this man kill himself, or should he live? That is an important question.

Were you afraid of how audiences might respond?
I was terrified, but I am also very proud of the film. I knew it would divide people, and some would reject it because of the subject alone. For me, however, it was important to create a space in which the issue could be discussed.

The expansion of the internet has also created new dilemmas. These are not always about the direct abuse of children, but about representations and fantasies that may not directly harm an actual child while still contributing to the sexualisation of children and childhood. The film also asks us to take notice of less obvious forms of harm. Stella absorbs society’s message that she must be small to receive validation or possess value, and passes it on to the next generation. That, too, is a way of hurting children.