Female Director on Prodigy Film: “Her Honesty Breaks Through the Armor”

: Ms. Dulude-De Celles, “Nina Roza” tells of an art expert who travels from Canada to Bulgaria to verify the authenticity of paintings by an extraordinarily gifted eight-year-old girl. In his homeland, he is increasingly confronted with memories of his own migration history and the people he left behind. What lay at the origin of this multi-layered narrative?

Geneviève Dulude-De Celles: At 21 I spent six months in Eastern Europe and worked there with a Romanian who was about to emigrate to Canada. During this time I first understood how contradictory migration can feel. At the same time, the region left a lasting mark on me: history is visible everywhere there—in the architecture, in the landscape, even in faces.

Back then I thought: if I ever become a director, I will come back and shoot a film here. Later, in Canada I heard the story of the father of a close friend, who emigrated from Uruguay more than 40 years ago and never returned. I wondered what it would mean for him to have to travel there again. From this question, eventually emerged “Nina Roza”.

: Mihail (Galin Stoev) encounters in his Bulgarian homeland a child who possesses an almost mythic presence. Nina seems wise, asks Mihail very personal questions and at the same time clearly asserts her own will – because she actually does not want this attention. What inspired you about this character?

Dulude-De Celles: Essentially I—like Mihail in the film—came across a viral video about a painting prodigy. Her name is Aelita Andre, she hails from Australia and, astonishingly, had her own exhibition at the age of two. She also speaks in a very adult, almost strange way. Some dialogue lines in the film are even directly inspired by her.

Generally I find it remarkable how direct children are. This directness challenges Mihail in the film, this man who would rather hide behind grand words. With Nina, however, that tactic does not work. Her honesty breaks through his intellectual armor.

: Mihail is the only adult in the film who respects the child’s decisions—and also because he remembers his own uprooting and that of his daughter Roza (Michelle Tzontchevin), who emigrated with him at the same age as Nina. The Italian gallery owner (Chiara Caselli), however, shows considerably less understanding. Is there a critique of the art market in this as well?

Dulude-De Celles: A part of it. But my main aim was to illuminate the child’s perspective. Who decides for this young girl—and with what right, exactly? She herself does not want to emigrate, nor does she want to sell her art. The parents, on the other hand, see in it a chance for Nina.

This is the dilemma: Do you override her will in the name of a supposedly better future—or is it precisely this insistence the real mistake? I am quite familiar with these feelings; during my parents’ divorce I felt something very similar.

: Nina is played in the film by two young actresses—Sofia Stanina and Ekaterina Stanina. How did this double casting come about, and how did you become aware of the two sisters?

Dulude-De Celles: The casting process was very demanding. It was my urgent wish that Nina be played by a girl from Bulgaria. At the same time I hoped to find a suitable cast in Quebec, because our potential actress would likely also speak French. That would have made collaboration much easier for me. Especially with very young actors, you need many instructions, a bit more help, and a language barrier is of course an additional challenge.

But such an actress did not exist. Fortunately, I worked with the wonderful casting director Tania Arana, who has a lot of experience with open castings. In a Bulgarian community center, we finally found Sofia and Ekaterina. They were initially very shy, but their unique energy was immediately evident.

: In what sense?

Dulude-De Celles: I later learned that they are homeschooled—and that makes a lot of sense. It almost feels as if through that they have preserved their own essence and have not yet been shaped by social interactions (laughs).

When it became clear that Sofia particularly gravitates toward the vulnerable moments, while Ekaterina loves the louder, more impulsive scenes, we decided to cast both sisters. It was clear to us that together they would best embody the different facets of Nina.

: “Nina Roza” moves between realistic storytelling and almost dreamlike moments – how did you create this cinematic atmosphere?

Dulude-De Celles: Bulgaria itself already carries a good share of this mythical sensibility—that was a gift. My cinematographer Alexandre Nour Desjardins, production designer Laura Nhem, and I searched intensively for shooting locations and we found them very quickly. The bigger challenge was to render Mihail’s inner journey and his memories visually tangible. For that, Alexandre and I studied many older films, including some by Andrei Tarkovsky.

: Your feature debut “Une colonie” (2019) was awarded the Berlinale’s Silver Bear in the Generation section. Now you return with “Nina Roza” to the competition. How do you experience the festival?

Dulude-De Celles: I feel it is a great privilege to be here. This festival is a special platform for films—and right now I feel I am exactly in the right place, sitting in the cinema with others and talking about the ideas of “Nina Roza”.

We live in rough times; social media isolates us further and makes us lonely. The more valuable it is to gather as a film-loving community and discuss openly—politically as well as creatively. That is precious.

: Around the festival, a lively debate about politics and cinema has emerged—whether film is political, should be, or not. How do you view this discussion?

Dulude-De Celles: I am speaking now for myself alone, not for the entire team: I have followed the controversy and of course have read many reports about the Berlinale in recent years. When we received our invitation to compete, the festival was very transparent about what it stands for and assured us that filmmakers could speak freely.

In this spirit I decided to express my support for Palestine at the Berlinale, because it matters to me. (Note: On the day of the interview, Dulude-De Celles wore a heart-shaped pin with the flag of Palestine on her lapel) For me, art is political, and I stand by that. Everyone has their own opinion—and I respect that. But this is my perspective.