Patrik Syversen on bending the genres in his new feature Dawning

Norwegian writer/director Patrik Syversen’s new feature Dawning (Demring) is about to have its world premiere at Fantastic Fest (September 18-25) in Austin, Texas, where it is selected for the main competition. A few weeks later, the film will be screened at Sitges International Fantastic Film Festival of Catalonia (October 9-19), also one of the world’s top genre film festivals.

Nonetheless, Dawning is far from your regular horror flick. More in line with Fantastic Fest’s eye for films that break boundaries – in a programme ranging “from arthouse to grindhouse”, in their own words – Syversen’s new film does not comply with the formulas. Instead, it mixes and combines genres – among those, also horror elements.

Starting off as a stylised and rather quiet drama in black and white, Dawning tells the story of three sisters gathering at the family’s holiday house in the aftermath of a difficult event. However, more difficulties and unsuspected events are soon to come, including a mysterious visitor at the house.

Leading the cast are Kathrine Thorborg Johansen (Power Play (Makta)), Silje Storstein (Betrayed (Den største forbrytelsen)) and Marte Magnusdotter Solem (Loveable (Elskling)) as the sisters. They are joined by Sigurd Myhre (Kieler Street (Kielergata)), Steinar Klouman Hallert (Sick of Myself (Syk pike)), and Thorbjørn Harr (Sex and also Power Play).

Syversen made his feature debut in 2008 with the indie horror Manhunt (Rovdyr), and has directed films such as Prowl and Afterparty (Det som en gang var) as well as the TV series Kieler Street, to name just a few titles.

Described by the director as “a new beginning for me as a filmmaker”, Dawning is produced by Syversen and the film’s cinematographer Andreas Johannessen through their newly established production company Planete Sauvage, in collaboration with Kristin Emblem from Einar Film (Handling the Undead (Håndtering av udøde)).

Executive producers are Lawrence Inglee, Daniel Noah and Elijah Wood, who have come on board with their company SpectreVision (Mandy, A Girl Walks Home Alone at Night).

Before he sets sail for Austin and the film’s world premiere, we sit down for a chat with Syversen in Oslo.

What were the most important elements you wanted to explore with this film?

I have a somewhat eclectic filmography, but have always started from two preferences – which are really two extremes, or apparent opposites. I grew up on films by Jarmusch, Bergman and Bresson, and loved films that are ascetic, understated and low-key. At the same time, a side of me has embraced the more extreme, boundary-pushing genre films, which are unpredictable in other ways. And I have never been able to accept that you have to do either one or the other. The understated does not have to be exclusive to chamber piece dramas – and horror films don’t have to be speculative and extreme.

Part of the idea behind combining elements in Dawning that may seem incompatible, is that existential anxiety is often rooted in how we don’t manage to reconcile ourselves with conflicting thoughts. In the various “stages of grief”, you first go into denial, before coming to acceptance after several steps. The film is about three sisters with different perceptions of what their childhood has led to. They try to take ownership of their suffering, each with their own narrative. But the world itself does not have those kinds of subjective narratives.

The experiment was in a way to make something that is measured and relatively objective in its form, without clear affiliation to a particular genre – and see what happens if you add an element from a different place.

How would you describe the film in terms of genre?

It is a difficult film to define, which was also what I wanted to make. I like things that aren’t easily defined, because of the complexity in what they contain and combine. I would say that Dawning is first and foremost a drama, with some obvious genre elements woven into it. I aimed to make the drama sufficiently interesting in itself, also without these genre elements. In genre films, the first act is often just a prelude to where you are really going, and feels like a part you just have to get through. Whereas in this film, all parts hopefully carry equal weight.

A common criticism of horror films is that they don’t really care about their characters, who are often portrayed in a hollow and superficial way. This film feels a bit like a reaction to that?

Yes, to a large extent. Because I strongly feel that these elements can coexist. I’m very fond of restrained stories, and the film is also very restrained in its form. The more you hold back, the greater effect you will get from smaller stuff. I find it very interesting to explore things that are seemingly trivial, but of great importance to those who experience them. Yet again, I also have this fascination with the extreme. Once you get past the shock effect, you can find nuances in depicting something extreme as well. There are nuances in both the low-key and the loud and noisy, depending on the perspective you apply.

Tell us a little about the choice of cast for the three sisters?

Silje Storstein is the one I have worked with the most, she always comes to mind when I write screenplays. She and Marte Magnusdotter Solem played a police officer duo in Kieler Street, and had a nice, almost sister-like chemistry. I haven’t worked with Kathrine Thorborg Johansen before, but when I’ve seen her together with Silje in other situations, I’ve noticed a similar dynamic between them. The three of them have very different energies, but with a similar core, in a way. I like writing for specific actors – especially in a film like this, where a lot depends on the mood and wordless interplay between the cast.

The film has a very distinctive, atmospheric score, composed by Øystein Greni from the Norwegian rock group Bigbang. How was your collaboration, and what were the main ideas behind the music in the film?

Øystein is an amazing musician, and also composed the music for Kieler Street, together with Jørn Christensen (also a famous Norwegian rock musician). We worked in a similar way on this project, with Øystein starting to compose already while I was writing the script, based on what I wrote and our talks about the emotions we wanted to convey. Øystein often creates songs with a traditional structure, but here, the music could be abstract, associative, and more atonal. I wanted the film’s music to be insistent, even bordering on unnerving, combined with a low-fi aesthetic. Several of the musical pieces were ready when we began shooting, so that cinematographer Andreas Johannessen and I could listen to them on our way to the set. It made the music a very integrated part of the film.

How did SpectreVision get on board?

Andreas was recently also DoP on SpectreVision’s film Rabbit Trap (which premiered in the Midnight Section at this year's Sundance festival), and they were curious about his next project. When we showed them what we were working on, they were very excited and wanted to be part of it. Dawning is not a blockbuster film, it’s a film driven by creative ambitions. It's great to have support from people who believe in the film – not in spite of, but because of those ambitions.