The “Extreme Cinema” of Goodnight Mommy
Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala talk making audiences shiver and sweat with their psychological horror film
In Veronika Franz and Severin Fiala’s psychological horror stunner Goodnight Mommy, twin brothers Lukas and Elias (Lukas Schwarz and Elias Schwarz) spend their days in isolated idyll in the Austrian countryside, collecting bugs and playing hide-and-seek in cornfields while they wait for their mother to return home following intensive facial surgery. When she does, the boys notice she’s changed. It’s not just her bandage-wrapped visage that raises red flags. Mom (Susanne Wuest) keeps Lukas and Elias at a distance and institutes new rules around the house, demanding that noise be kept to a minimum and that the blinds remain closed. Our fair-haired lads can only arrive at one conclusion: This woman isn’t their mom at all.
Franz and Fiala have made movies before—they’ve collaborated on shorts in the past, as well as the 2012 doc Kern—but Goodnight Mommy has vaulted them into new recognition alongside their fellow Austrian auteurs. But don’t call Goodnight Mommy the new Funny Games. While Franz and Fiala’s movie fits quite snugly into the “creepy children” horror niche, it is ultimately the end result of their own thoughts, ideas and experiences rather than a simple pastiche of that subgenre. Think of Goodnight Mommy as an example of terroir filmmaking, the kind of picture produced as the total sum of its influences rather than as a cheap imitation of them. Watching classic horror movies about evil kids made up part of the director duo’s research process, but Goodnight Mommy has a wholly individual cinematic identity: family terror rooted in paranoia and topped off with some of the blackest humor imaginable.
Yet it didn’t initially start out as a horror film. Indeed, Franz and Fiala went down that path out of a desire to close the gap between their viewers and their medium, and to coax a visceral reaction out of anyone brave enough to watch. As Goodnight Mommy slowly rolls out across the country following its opening last Friday, Paste had the chance to talk to the pair about what went into making the film, how they prefer their horror, why the concept of “family” makes for great horror movie material, their inspirations as filmmakers, and just how unnerving it can be to stare out into a room full of auditioning pairs of twins.
Paste: I gotta say, it must feel pretty good that, if you’re already reading notices about the film, it’s earning comparisons to the stuff of Michael Haneke to Georges Franju. That has to feel pretty nice.
Severin Fiala: Yeah. But actually, I mean, we admire Michael Haneke a lot, because he’s a great, accomplished filmmaker, but we feel with Funny Games, which we are often compared to, he tried to make a film, in a way, against horror cinema, which shows you how bad it is. We think our film is actually the opposite, because we love horror films. We think they really talk about the taboos of society. They really get to the important issues. So, we love horror films, and we’re not so happy about the Funny Games comparison.
Veronika Franz: When it comes to the concept, when it comes to how carefully we make films and, you know, how precisely we plan them, then I like the comparison. [laughs]
Paste: [laughs] Yeah, I feel like the comparisons aren’t quite accurate—in terms of craft, this is a really beautifully made film, but it doesn’t feel like you’re trying to ape anybody or riff on anybody. I really like that. It feels like it’s very much its own thing.
Franz: Oh, thank you! [laughs] That makes me very happy, actually!
Fiala: We didn’t plan on making a horror film. We simply wanted to achieve a film we both, Veronika and me, would like to see in cinemas. So, yeah, it was simply what we thought we would like, maybe a challenging film or something that physically gets to you and challenges the viewer. That’s what we wanted to make—if it was a horror film, or an arthouse film, or a psychological thriller, we can’t say anymore. But it’s the film we would like to see.
Franz: We wanted to tie the audience to their chair, actually!
Paste: [laughs] I certainly felt like I was stuck in my seat. I felt like I couldn’t move. I like that sensation. It’s interesting you say that—you could have just had a family melodrama about two boys and their mother, and the relationship between them going haywire. What, for you, took it all the way to horror? What made you decide, “This is going to be a horror movie”?
Fiala: I don’t know. We like extremes, and we like extreme cinema, and cinema that, somehow, really physically does something to your bodies, and makes you shiver and sweat. In Austria, we have this theater and opera tradition, and everyone’s sitting in the theater or the opera, leaning back and thinking about all this intellectual stuff, and there’s a real distance, we think. And a horror film has the great power to overcome this distance between the story and the viewer, actually, so that’s what we like: stories that really grip you and push you into the story. That’s what we like, and that’s the power of cinema.
Franz: And we also, yeah, I like to confront myself, actually, with fears in cinema. I like that. I’m interested in that because I live with that in reality! [laughs] With films, you can confront yourself and the audience with such issues.
Fiala: And you can learn something about yourself that you maybe don’t want to learn. But a horror film, as Veronika said, ties you to the cinema chair, and you can’t run away because you have to look at it, and at the same time you don’t want to. Maybe you don’t like what you see, but you can’t escape. That’s something we like.