Anna Nemes is a visual artist whose paintings have been exhibited in solo and group exhibitions across Europe since 2010. “Beauty of the Beast,” her essay-documentary about female bodybuilding, is currently in post-production with a slated 2022 release. “Gentle” is her first fiction film.
“Gentle” will premiere at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival, which runs January 20-30. More information can be found on the fest’s website. “Gentle” is co-directed by Lászlò Csuja.
W&H: Describe the film for us in your own words.
AN: Monsters are artificial – that is their essence. Our movie is about a female bodybuilder, Edina. She was created by her trainer. Then She, the Creation, meets her femininity, her emotional, deeper self – a part of herself she never had before. It wasn’t bodybuilding which made her a freak. Edina was dependent, blind to her own needs. She got reflected on her fragmented life by love. Had a chance to find real feelings, a real life – herself. When Edina meets love, the bold and artificial visual world turns out to be magical, realist, and dreamy.
W&H: What drew you to this story?
AN: I would say I was drawn into a phenomenon, not a story. I suffer from body dysmorphia, which means that I don’t feel or see my own body realistically. I always thought I was monstrously huge since I was a kid. In reality, my BMI is too low. I am originally a painter. Ten years ago, I made an aquarelle series of female bodybuilders to somehow reflect on this issue. I think I am Hulk; the bodybuilders don’t see that they actually are superhuman. In the end, we share the same problem! I met some ladies, I talked to them, I was really interested in their lives. How they deal with femininity, conservative ideas about female roles.
I had visions, little scenes in my head, and László [Csuja], my co-director, encouraged me to write a movie about it. While writing the script, I started an essay-documentary,”Beauty of The Beast,” which helped me find our main character for the feature and get more inspiration, while finding my own language in filmmaking. The more time I spent in this world, the more I realized that there is nothing different about female bodybuilders. They want to be loved, they want to express themselves, they seek self-fulfillment. They shape their bodies like a sculptor – it is their work, their art, just like this movie is ours.
W&H: What do you want people to think about after they watch the film?
AN: I want them to start treating people with respect. To get over their appearance. To reflect on whether they are at the right place, if they do what they really want to do, and change it if they can.
W&H: What was the biggest challenge in making the film?
AN: As a painter and researcher, I got used to working alone. If something goes wrong, then it’s all on me, I am not depending on anybody else. It was really hard for me to be around this many people, but in the end it worked out pretty well. I learned to trust my colleagues and their capability.
Also, with painting, it is a constant process. I have been doing it for many years now and I don’t think that I will ever stop. I work on more paintings simultaneously, and there is [really no finishing them]. Making a movie is one huge project for an exact period of time. Finishing a movie is really heartbreaking. You are focused on one thing and connected to all these people and then it is all over. It is like coming home from the best camp of your life.
W&H: How did you get your film funded? Share some insights into how you got the film made.
AN: It is a low-budget movie. Mainly we had support from the Hungarian National Film Institute. After winning the Sam Spiegel Film Lab’s Grand Prize, we had KomplizenFilm, the co-producer of the film, on our side and they found us some money from ZDF/Arte. We tried to get additional support but we were in the middle of the pandemic and neither László nor I [are known], which would have attracted producers or sponsors. Our vision would have needed a lot more funding but with many sacrifices and support — we had a very good and experienced team — we did it in the end.
W&H: What inspired you to become a filmmaker?
AN: I have never been able to do only one thing. My parents wanted me to be a musician. I was talented and I loved it but I also loved drawing and theater. In high school I studied drama and painting and I went to philosophy competitions. I ended up at the University of Fine Arts, and earned a living with theater. I studied psychology and became an art therapist. Now I am preparing for my exhibition for my DLA [Doctorate in Liberal Arts] exam, and Sundance at the same time, and by spring I am going to start a music production school and write the script of my next film.
What I am trying to say is that I don’t consider myself an art therapist, a researcher, painter, a filmmaker, a director, actress, or musician. I find it very important to be able to do all these things simultaneously – they’re all connected and complete each other. I need philosophy to keep my mind open, psychology to understand people and dynamics, music to feel the rhythm and be more sensitive, and I definitely need painting to create visually unique moving images like films.
I think filmmaking is not a storytelling medium, it is an art form where I can use all these tools together and I just love its complexity.
W&H: What’s the best and worst advice you’ve received?
AN: Don’t give up. Let it go.
W&H: What advice do you have for other women directors?
AN: Don’t let guys treat you any differently. It can start with seemingly innocent manifestations, like they are thoughtful or polite, they find you cute, call you fond names. It can easily lead to not taking you seriously, especially if you are young.
I have never cared about gender. I only care about my work, and I want the people around me to do what I need them to do. The most important thing is that everybody does their job on the highest level – that is all I care about. I believe if we only focus on our job, regardless of any other circumstances, these issues — sexism, chauvinism — will disappear.
W&H: Name your favorite woman-directed film and why.
AN: Julia Ducournau’s “Titane.” This film doesn’t try to conceptualize while it deals with very obvious contemporary phenomena. It radiates through you – you can’t think, you can’t theorize, it just happens to you. It rips out your guts, then pushes them back through your throat, and it is beautiful.
After watching that movie, I felt so enthusiastic and depressed at the same time. The director appeared so free to me. Like she wanted to do something and she did it without hesitation, without an urge to please anybody. I truly envy that freedom and power.
But I also need to mention Ana Lily Amirpour’s “The Bad Batch,” Andrea Arnold’s “Fish Tank,” and Nanouk Leopold’s “Boven is het stil” (“It’s All So Quiet”).
W&H: How are you adjusting to life during the COVID-19 pandemic? Are you keeping creative, and if so, how?
AN: Fortunately, the pandemic didn’t really slow me down, but sometimes it can be a very annoying obstacle. I work as much as the situation lets me and I am working on my next film.
W&H: The film industry has a long history of underrepresenting people of color onscreen and behind the scenes and reinforcing — and creating — negative stereotypes. What actions do you think need to be taken to make it more inclusive?
AN: I think we need to forget about traditions and rules. Many times, I see that people are not even reflecting on these mechanisms, they do it subconsciously. They follow the path on many levels: artistic, social, etc. Preconceptions make you numb.
Think outside of the box, deal with our reality, what we see, what we experience in this world. This world is full of colorful and complex people. That would solve the problem of underrepresentation, if we would just deal with what is really around us and not what [our preconceptions] taught us.
