With her short film Retract and her feature debut, Gritt [+lire aussi :
critique
bande-annonce
interview : Itonje Søimer Guttormsen
fiche film], both pulling off the “G ‘n’ R Double”, Norwegian director Itonje Søimer Guttormsen has just completed her hat-trick here, as her second feature, Butterfly [+lire aussi :
critique
interview : Itonje Søimer Guttormsen
fiche film], enjoyed screenings at the 49th Göteborg Film Festival and the 55th IFFR within hours of each other last Friday. We caught her quite literally in between the two locations for a talk about performance art, Nordic family dysfunction, the Norwegian cinema scene and Renate Reinsve.

Cineuropa: Let’s start where you left off with your last film because we actually get to reunite with the title character from Gritt in Butterfly. Was she, Gritt, even a kind of catalyst when it came to taking things to the next level?
Itonje Søimer Guttormsen: She was. I’d been working on the Butterfly story on and off since 2008, but it was after having made Gritt in 2021 that I first realised I would have to make Butterfly in the same vein, using real people in the cast. And it felt natural that Gritt would turn up on Gran Canaria – where her mother has been living, according to her written story. It gave me a sense of strength and security to bring a piece of that universe into the “patchwork” of Butterfly – a lucky charm, if you will.

Are you possibly planning a “Gritt trilogy”?
I may have made one of sorts already, as Gritt turns up for the first time in my 2017 short Retract, which could be seen as the larva of the evolution. Then comes Gritt, the chrysalis, and now Butterfly, the… butterfly!

The two sisters at the centre of the story and their gradually uncovered background, especially regarding their mother, could be seen as a classical dysfunctional family drama from the North by the likes of Ibsen, Strindberg, Bergman… Have you drawn inspiration from any such people?
Not necessarily consciously, but I’m Nordic, and I have a Nordic family, so there is that. And I’ve been fascinated by Bergman and, even more so, Woody Allen’s Hannah and Her Sisters, which I think I’ve seen about 150 times – no kidding. But more than anything, Butterfly is an experiment. It starts a little in that classical vein you mention, then gets to be almost a crime story for a while, and then I break into something else, something wild, warm, spiritual and quite un-Nordic. Perhaps it will divide the critics’ camp.

You’ve gathered quite an eclectic ensemble cast, not least some highly prolific female performers like Renate Reinsve, currently on her way to worldwide recognition through her work with Joachim Trier, and Lillian Müller, one of the iconic Playboy models from the 1970s. What was your process like?
When it came to Lily, I knew I wanted a really hard-as-nails type of person. “How about Renate?” my producer asked, to which I responded with an immediate rejection, having just seen The Worst Person in the World [+lire aussi :
critique
bande-annonce
interview : Joachim Trier
fiche film], starring this most charming person. We then conducted auditions with quite a lot of people, including Renate – after all, we’re Scandinavian and democratic – and from the very first moment, she totally connected with the character and became her, as it were. So, I was wrong. Helene Bjørneby and Renate had worked together in Worst Person and liked each other, and Helene was also in my graduation film, where she really shined. And Lillian Müller is certainly an adventure in herself, quite magical, as she’s actually had the butterfly as a personal symbol all her life. So, she really was the butterfly lady in real life as well. She’s gone from being a beauty under the male gaze at Hugh Hefner’s mansion to being the kind of health guru that she is today. It was rewarding to give her a real and serious part, and it worked really well.

You then feature a number of real residents of this “wilder” part of the Gran Canaria region, many of them creative and also spiritual. Can you talk about that choice?
They’re all authentic. They turned up in the script after a couple of years, and it dawned on me that the story would be incomplete without them. They really open up to adventure and exploration, in the film and beyond. I’ve sought them out, stayed with them, and they’ve become my friends. Again, it’s quite magical.

What was your own relationship to the Canary Islands when growing up? Did you and your family go there?
Nope. We’d go to the Netherlands and live in tents. I was most envious of those schoolfriends who came home with T-shirts with palm trees on them and suntans. A little later, I changed stance and became very snobbish, and I vowed never to visit such a tacky place. Then, in 2012, I went there and visited an aunt, and all my prejudice was put to shame. It’s a fantastic place, full of layers upon layers.