I’m always asked about what type of things I want to do, and if I make decisions based on my last project. Say I do a big franchise movie about a vampire that falls in love with a normal girl. It’s like, “Now do you want to show them that you can be a real, serious actor?” It’s like, “Was I not being a real, serious actor?” […] I mean, it was a long process, so it’s hard to generalize about it as a whole. It wasn’t entirely cohesive. We ebbed and flowed. I will definitely acknowledge that. But the intention is so fucking pure in a weird way. Anybody who wants to talk shit about Twilight, I completely get it, but there’s something there that I’m endlessly, and to this day, fucking proud of. My memory of it felt—still feels—really good.
“I think that certain emotions can be difficult and they hurt. You know after a bad breakup you go, “I never want it again! I never gonna fall in love again! I don’t want to feel this!” And you think you can shut those things down but that’s what drives us, man! That’s what keeps us going and I don’t mind a rough road. It’s life!”
Nia is the only one who can access her emotions all the time even though she’s not allowed to show those emotions. So that meant I had to put myself in the position of having these feelings but needing to somehow contain them and not let on what is going on inside her. In my own experience in this business that’s often a role I’ve had to play, where you need to present yourself in a certain way even though you might be having a terrible day or going through a lot of issues in your life. We can all understand that kind of situation because in everyday life you’re often putting on a false front simply because it wouldn’t be socially acceptable to reveal what you’re feeling.
If the Ingmar Bergman of Autumn Sonata had been a looser and less severe
film-maker, he might have come up with something like Olivier Assayas’
haunting drama about an actress (Juliette Binoche) who doesn’t realise
the midlife crisis she’s going through has become her greatest role.
Binoche musters a symphony of emotion, and Kristen Stewart, as her
tersely ambitious assistant, gives a performance that points to the kind
of actress she could be: a millennial Jane Fonda. Assayas turns the
title cloud formation – an eerie snake of white wisps – into a metaphor
for life’s dark forces that is also a poetic coup de cinema. (Credit:
Les Films du Losange)