After premiering in competition at Locarno and screening later at Warsaw, Solomamma [+leggi anche:
recensione
trailer
intervista: Janicke Askevold
intervista: Janicke Askevold
scheda film] returned to the spotlight last week at the Cork International Film Festival (6–16 November), where it won the prestigious Eurimages Audentia Award. Janicke Askevold’s debut feature follows a journalist who chooses single motherhood through sperm donation (Lisa Loven Kongsli), only to confront unexpected emotional and ethical complexities when she crosses paths with the donor. With warmth, sharp observation and a grounded Scandinavian tone, the film explores modern parenthood and the evolving definition of family. Speaking to Cineuropa, the Norwegian director reflects on the film’s international reception, the real-life inspiration behind the story, and how this recognition is shaping her future steps.

Cineuropa: What does receiving this accolade mean to you, especially as an award that spotlights women filmmakers, and how did you and your team react to this recognition?
Janicke Askevold: Winning the Audentia Award is a huge honour and means so much to me and the team behind Solomamma. As a woman making a film about a single mother and a non-traditional family, it feels very powerful to receive an award that specifically spotlights women filmmakers. It tells me that there is space for these stories, and it gives me courage and inspiration to keep going. This recognition feels like a validation of the work we did together.

Could you briefly tell us how the project originated and how you began working on it?
I have more and more friends who are choosing to become solo parents — especially after the Biotechnology Act changed in Norway in 2020, allowing single women access to assisted reproduction. The idea came from real life. A friend chose a donor she felt she would be attracted to in real life. With the limited information provided by the sperm bank, she realised she could identify him — and curiosity led her to contact him. They met and eventually dated briefly. That intimate and ethically complex space between biology and family felt like the right starting point for a film about motherhood today.

Each time I pitched the idea, I sensed real curiosity, and I realised many people know very little about this topic. So there was room for a film that explores a family model that is becoming increasingly common. We applied to NEO — the low-budget scheme for new filmmakers at the Norwegian Film Institute — and were accepted. I then spoke to solo mothers, fertility clinics and psychologists across Norway to understand the emotional and societal layers of this choice. That became the foundation for the script.

How was the experience of presenting Solomamma at Cork? Did any reactions particularly surprise you?
Presenting Solomamma in Cork was incredible. The cinema was full, and my producer Rebekka Rognøy and I felt a strong connection with the audience during the Q&A. I love those moments because people often open up and share personal stories. Not necessarily because they’ve lived exactly what Edith experiences, but because the film mirrors something in their own lives.

One reaction stayed with me: a young woman came up to me afterwards and said, “This film is my life story.” Hearing that from a stranger, in another country, made me feel that the film travels emotionally in the way we hoped it would.

From Locarno to Cork, have you noticed differences in how audiences from different cultural contexts respond to the film?
The legal and cultural context of sperm donation varies greatly across Europe, so I was curious — and a bit nervous — about how the film would be received elsewhere. In places where single-parent conception is still illegal, like Poland, Latvia, Lithuania or Italy, I expected more judgement toward Edith’s decision. What surprised me is that the dominant reaction has been curiosity. People want to understand how the system works in Scandinavia, what it means for the children, and how the donors are selected. Even in conservative contexts, the discussions have been open and respectful. Some viewers do express concern about the well-being of donor-conceived children raised by single mothers. When that comes up, I share my impressions and the research I’ve read: these children tend to be as secure and happy as any others — sometimes more so, because the process to become a mother is long and emotionally demanding. Studies from the UK also support this.

After sharing the film internationally, have any stylistic or directorial choices taken on new meaning for you in retrospect?
Showing the film and engaging with audiences worldwide has made me see new nuances in the characters and the situations they face. Stylistically, people often say the film blends grounded Scandinavian realism and dry humour with a French emotional sensibility. I grew up in Norway and spent my entire adult life in France, so perhaps that hybrid identity naturally found its way into the film — but it wasn’t something I consciously planned.

Does winning the Audentia Award influence your upcoming projects?
Absolutely. The award inspires me to continue telling stories about women who choose their own path and stand by their decisions. It also gives me confidence to keep exploring non-traditional families and morally ambiguous situations, knowing there is an audience — and support — for these kinds of female-driven stories.