After a successful festival run kicked off at San Sebastian and BFI London last year, Sylvia Le Fanu’s debut, titled “My Eternal Summer,” heads to the Göteborg Film Festival, one of the Nordic countries’ largest cinematic gatherings, running this year from January 24–February 2.
Shot over six weeks in 2023, the Danish drama follows 15-year-old Fanny as she retreats with her parents to their family summer house. There, she embraces pleasant routines: reading, swimming, and walking. Beneath this quiet simplicity, however, an unspoken grief lingers: They know it will be her mother’s last summer.
During the Göteborg days, we caught up with Le Fanu, who spoke about her approach to blending fiction and documentary, the challenges of writing such a personal story, the struggles of pitching an unconventional narrative, and her work with the actors.
When did you start working on “My Eternal Summer?“
I began working on this film in 2020. It all started with my film school graduation project. I must say I wasn’t very happy with it, and there were many things I wanted to do differently. Somehow, I guess there was some urge to explore [something] . . . This film is so personal to me. It’s inspired by and based on my own story. So maybe you can say it’s one of those films made more out of necessity than desire. It had to get out of the way in order for me to continue exploring other subjects.
Speaking of the writing process, what challenges did you face along the way? And was this ‘suspended’ atmosphere you crafted within your movie already ‘on paper,’ or was it the result of your work on set?
The way we work is very much based on what’s brought out through memory. And we work very much ‘from the inside out,’ not knowing for a long time where we’re going.
Narratively speaking, we’ve had a lengthy document containing very fragmented memories, which, over time, developed into fiction. I guess the challenge of working that way is, of course, that it takes a very long time because we basically sit patiently, waiting for the material to talk to us. But I’d say it’s a nice way to work. It’s organic, but it also requires a lot of trust — being confident that at some stage, all of this will turn into something with narrative potential. Yet, it’s difficult because it’s not easy to pitch. So talking about the project to the outside world can be hard since it doesn’t have a ‘super strict’ plot. It was helpful when we eventually decided to base the story on a single summer spent in this house. That framework provided a solid foundation, making the narrative feel more ‘tangible.’ I don’t know if I’m answering your question . . .
You are, for sure. Building up an arc is the most common thing you can do as a screenwriter, but you’re talking about a research process that is closer to the work of documentarians or theater directors . . .
That’s because my co-writer Mads [Lind Knudsen] and I love documentaries, and we look up to the way they are written or made. So we deliberately tried to pretend this was a documentary, asking ourselves how to follow the characters and not lay out too many directions beforehand. So, in a way, we tried to stick to a ‘realist cinema’ approach. I haven’t studied screenwriting, but he has the skills to put all of this together. What I appreciate very much about him is his patience in doing that without forcing things.
You mentioned that, because of all these reasons, this project was quite hard to pitch. So how did you pitch it?
I’d say we were lucky in terms of financing. It was quite an easy process thanks to the New Danish Screen scheme for first features. We worked with a producer, [Jeppe Wowk], whom I went to film school with and knew very well, which was helpful given that we didn’t have a strong pitch. The starting point of my pitch was asking how a young person navigates their youth, being ready to embrace life but also confronting death at the same time. And then I would write my personal motivations about those feelings that were at stake [in this film] instead of [delivering] a more narrative piece, aiming not necessarily at how it would end, but [at least] at some sort of [possible] development.
Zooming in on the actors, how did you cast the three leads? And how did you work with them on set?
I cast all three. It was a very long process. I met Kaya [Toft Loholt], who plays Fanny, for the first time when she was only 13, back in the first year of writing. I was already looking for an actress because I knew it would be a long process. So luckily, time worked well for us in the sense that she was 15 when we shot the film, and I think she couldn’t have been younger. I was still happy [about my choice], although a lot of people suggested finding an actress who was maybe 18 or 19 to play this younger character. But again, the ‘documentary idealist’ in me wanted it to be as authentic as possible.
I met her so many times over the years, and that gave me trust. I guess it’s been so both ways. She had the stamina to go through it, and she’s super intelligent — I could have [deep] conversations with her.
Speaking of her parents’ roles, Maria [Rossing] and Anders [Mossling] both have backgrounds in comedy, and although this is definitely not a comedy, it was nice that they had a sort of ‘lightness.’ Also, they’re very good friends, which made for a nice working environment. This was a film I very much didn’t want to be melodramatic in its acting. I think with this sort of material, many actors might fall into that trap, or at least you would have to fight against it. Here, I felt they immediately understood how to do ‘very little.’ And often, that’s difficult for actors. They were both very good at that.
So that was the way we worked—it wasn’t very much about improvisation. We had some time to rehearse. I’m open to suggestions, and I’d adjust. They all gave very good input. But once we were on set, we stayed quite loyal to the lines, though we might have some extra takes where we went off script. Besides, there’s not much dialogue. I focused on keeping things very low-key.
My work with the actors was hugely influenced by Bresson and his philosophy of using actors as models, without ‘psychologizing’ too much. I felt this was helpful in getting the right tone for their acting. I was confident that meaning could be found in the way images ‘spoke’ to each other, without putting too much weight on individual performances. The actors found this to be a very refreshing way to work and felt relieved.
