INTERVIEW: Sophia Bösch Milk Teeth’ (IFFR 2024)

Films exploring dystopian scenarios are becoming increasingly popular preferences for young directors, aligned with a general inclination towards narratives of radical destruction and fantasy. Let’s agree that this is a fact, and let’s agree that it goes together with a sort of establishment of comfort when watching nightmarish depictions of the future. This won’t prove that we no longer seek a frivolous or purely entertaining break from daily life in the dimming rooms of a theater, but it implies a desire for adventurous explorations to read in our present context. In many ways, reality doesn’t differ much from claustrophobic, ill-fated stories. In this sense, film characters can become our discursive guide, our heroes for any obscure contemporary narrative of our concern. As this genre establishes itself in mainstream cinema, we get to openly speculate on possible ways of reacting towards any oppressive paradigm – whether of an intrapersonal or interpersonal extent.

Sophia Bösch takes a similar stance in her debut film, ‘Milk Teeth’. Skalde, the protagonist, resides in a gloomy place, ruled by elemental structures of civilization. She is part of a village that seems to be in a state of emergency. Everyone is agitated by an overpowering fear, the source of which emanates from the nearby forest. Unlike the rest of the villagers, she is fighting for acceptance and inclusion in the survival missions of this isolated community. The story is dressed with allegories for the catastrophic consequences of human intervention in nature, but it is mostly painted by the race for gender equality and inherent fears. ‘Milk Teeth’ is a modern tale, equilibrated between narrative techniques, mythological references, and pressing matters of the society we know of. The camera and sound design are integral agents of this cinematic experience. Bösch managed a well-composed story, concise but not deficient, explicit and focused enough to open up a clean way for reflection on the sociopolitical potentials of audiovisual fiction.

Your film tackles many current challenges, from patriarchal leftovers to bond-making trials to xenophobia. In many ways, it is a complete and clean story. Of course, the script is (loosely) based on the novel by Helene Bukowski from 2019, but how do you see this story’s relevance to our times? Why did you choose to make it now?

The project came to me via the producers Jonas & Jakob Weydemann and Milena Klemke, who had bought the rights to the book. After having seen my previous short films, they thought of me. I was hooked by the story from the first time I read the novel. By that time, a film was already unfolding in my head; the language of the book is very cinematic. What intrigued me the most was that it is a dark, modern fairytale, centered around these three women that have to deal with each other and the outside world. The story contains a lot of themes. For me, the most important point is female existence in a patriarchal society. Then, of course, xenophobia and what fear does to us. I think all of these themes are present issues.

The portrayal of femininity is refreshing. There is no intention to empower women (as we often see), but rather to present the female power in its natural manifestation. Whether it is about the maternal instinct or body intuition and trust—even at a transgenerational level. How much of it was your own input?

The structure and the constellation of the characters are the same in the book. Of course, you have to take away a lot from a book to make it into a film. Both the author of the film and I are interested in achieving with our tools (whether literature or film) to narrate female characters in their human nature. Complex, with dark or bright sides; like normal people. To reveal all their aspects. We are still trying to get rid of the male gaze over women, especially in films. Often, when female characters appear as main protagonists in a story, they are directly considered ‘strong women’. I oppose this expression because of what it implies about all the other women.

The story offers an open and clean allegory to our relationship with nature. The fear and respect for the mystery of woods are leading the life of the villagers. The language used in the dialogues suggests certain mythological references. Did you use any?

The forest is the scenery for the drama to unfold, but also one of the protagonists. I find it fascinating to think of nature as the protagonist. I think that all cultures, regardless of where they are based, have mythological stories that try to explain the power of nature. Still, nature remains bigger than us. Of course, climate change is part of it, as it shows that humans will not be able to control nature, although they have been trying for ages.

I think that myths and belief systems have always helped people to explain the things they don’t understand. Legends and their narratives are also tools of power. In the case of this village, they are tools of power to make politics, in a way. To create a distinction, between ‘us’ and ‘them’. To dehumanize the ones who are not from there or to justify why they don’t belong there. I am fascinated by both sides of myths; the power and the beauty, the danger and threat they can hold.

In this respect, there is an interesting interplay between the forest and the water element. The few scenes that take place on the water are moments of breathing and tranquility. The river serves as the getaway towards a new home. Was this distinction between the perception of the woods and the water intentional?

In mythology, the river has a very symbolic role, and so does the forest. In this story, the river is both represents the border and the way out. For the main character, Skalde, the river stands for her finding her path.#

The costumes are visually very dominant. They stand out, particularly in key moments of the story. What process did you follow in this part?

The whole world-building was a result of a very tight collaboration between the different departments. We had to decide what exists in this world and what doesn’t. We had to invent a world. In terms of clothing, because we had to visualize the isolation of this community, we chose to use clothes that gave the impression of long use. Then, there is a significant difference between the villagers and the mother of the main character. She is not afraid of what the forest and nature bring. She has, for example, a connection with the dogs. This connection is also one of the reasons why she is not able to belong to the village, being kind of an outcast. She is on the side of the forest, and so her clothes bring up this difference.

One of the most prevailing features of the film is the camera movement. I found it very adequate in providing the necessary uncanny and ominous setting. Which accompanied effectively the questions of belonging and rough fear that were rooted in the story. What were your priorities when you took up the project?

This was my first time adapting a story of someone else. I did not do it by myself; I collaborated with an experienced writer, Roman Gielke. It was a process of nearly 3 years. At the core of this process was to find my voice and my aesthetics in this already existing story. Of course, as a filmmaker, I naturally apply my aesthetics. But I needed to find the core of the story that resonated with me. Starting with ourselves is the only way to be honest and authentic.

In this case, I could personally relate to the journey of Skalde. She is trying to belong, she adapts and kind of loses her integrity because she wants so badly to be part of this community. To do so, she had to distance herself from her mother. This is a phenomenon that often comes up when you are a woman growing up in a patriarchal society. You inherently learn to adapt to the prevailing power structures. You learn to survive, maybe even succeed by following those rules, and get to be how patriarchy wants you to be as a woman. Every now and then, you get reminded that you are not in power, and you don’t really belong there. Scalde gets these types of reminders when she takes in the girl. Skalde’s mother and the girl represent a similar existence, another way of being, that Skalde is trying to deny in her identity and ends up getting confronted with it. This journey of emancipation Skalde goes through was to me the heart of the story that I held onto throughout the process, from writing to production.

Everything that came after was a process of collaboration. This is to me the magic of filmmaking. People start coming on board, and all of a sudden you are not alone at your writing desk anymore, which, of course, can also be a bit scary. All those people have gathered to make your vision real. But it is a beautiful process that I deeply love.

The work with the actors, for me, is the heart of the process. I am not too interested in flashy effects or other fancy things you can do. I have worked together with my cinematographer Aleksandra Medianikova before, and we have found a common language, so she knows me and does her thing, whilst I am with the actors. The same goes for my editor Andrea Muñoz, we have been working together for a long time and our editing room is my safe space.

This was our debut feature film. What lessons are you keeping from his experience for your coming projects?

On a content level, I will try to dive deeper into this question of how to survive and find power as a woman* within a patriarchal society. I want to keep exploring tools to change these types of existing structures. Otherwise, it might be very obvious, but I know I should stay very honest about what I really want to tell. To stay true, instead of trying to satisfy what people want to see. What I also want to take with me is to enjoy the privilege of being able to work, and work towards the possibility to keep doing so with the people I have already around me. To go on this journey together. I think that through our strong network, with people who share our views, we can grow power and maybe make a change.

‘Milk Teeth’ (Milchzähne) premiered in the Big Screen Competition Section at the International Film Festival Rotterdam 2024.