KATHARINA HINGST REVISITS THE ANGST OF A FIRST PERIOD

What is your background—did you study film? Where?

Katharina Hingst: When I was 21, I applied to DFFB, a Berlin-based public film school. I had put a lot of work into my application, and in addition to practical tests, I had done a full on soul striptease trying to present who I was as a person. I even got as far as the final round, until they told me that my work was great, but I was too young to be a director and should re-apply the following year. Well, patience isn’t one of my strong suits, so I decided that film school wasn’t for me. This wasn’t so much a rational decision but hurt feelings—nonetheless, I was young AND stubborn and I was going to find my door, even if I had to kick it in.

Luckily I didn’t have to get violent, and started interning at a local production company in Berlin. I became a specialist in ordering office supplies and answering phone calls. When I finally got to assist on my first shoot, I thought I had found my purpose in life. Production was great and I learned a lot, especially that I didn’t want to work in production—I wanted to MAKE the film, I wanted to run around and scream “ROLLING” and “CUT” and not waste a single day answering calls anymore when I had my calling to answer to.

I yet again got lucky, as I was working on Wes Anderson’s “The Grand Budapest Hotel” and pretty much forced the 1st assistant director, who had just arrived from London, to take me on as his runner. This was my “kick in the door” moment and he didn’t have a way out, so he let me join his AD team and I officially became part of the on set crew. After shouting all kinds of things and juggling coffees and hot water bottles through icy east Germany for nearly 3 months, we had wrapped my first feature film. I was hooked.

I got the chance to move to London and continue working with the same AD team, gaining valuable on-set experience on major motion pictures. During this time, I tried to learn as much as possible from some of the best people in the industry. I would get insights into each department, having to look after the entire cast and crew, that no film student would ever get. After years on set, I had yet to learn more about the bigger picture of film making. The chance to do so came with my job as the director’s assistant on a major motion picture. During this role, I was heavily involved in the pre and post production process and gained experience through all stages of filmmaking while working alongside top industry professionals and executives.

Which filmmakers did you look up to growing up?

The first time I actually wanted to know more about a director after watching a film was when I saw “The Virgin Suicides." I must have been around 14 when I fell into Sofia Coppola’s mesmerizing world of filmmaking and storytelling. I couldn’t put a finger on it then, but something had happened to me while watching the five teenage Lisbon sisters struggle through adolescence. I could relate! It was a feeling that stuck with me long after the film had finished. It was as if their story had become part of mine or the other way around. I felt like somewhere in the world was someone who felt what I was feeling, which made me feel so much more normal. Sofia Coppola became my first inspiration, in terms of creating visual narrative that can be experienced through film and has the power to change someone’s perception of reality.

What were some memorable experiences of turning 16 for you?

I remember my 16th birthday, and it sucked. I was in a horrible mood and had expected the world to devote all its attention to me. But all I got was into an argument with my mom (probably over something stupid) and a meltdown that could have been categorized as a major environmental disaster. I basically cried all day and felt nothing but sorry for myself.

This was just a pretty standard explosion of the volcano called puberty, though. I remember feeling lost and struggling a lot to feel comfortable in my own skin. I mostly hung out with boys and tried my best to become one myself. I just had no idea how to get in touch with my feminine side, or what that even meant. I looked down on girly girls and would only wear sneakers, baggy trousers, and shirts with underground rap acts on them. It just felt like a massive inconvenience being stuck in a girl’s body while having interpreted the world from a male perspective all this time. I spent so much effort fighting my femininity as a teenage girl, thinking it was weak and superficial, that I completely missed the chance to define who I wanted to be as a woman.

The film is rich with iconography: what made you select these over say, more traditional symbols?

To me, being a woman has always had a deeply spiritual and mystical meaning. It’s like Mother Nature has put her spell on us and we have mastered the art of disguise. We are never just one or the other. It was important to me to make this film as relatable as possible no matter what background the viewer has. I wanted to create a world that was believable and yet an illusion. I wanted the girl to be somewhat of a hybrid—Lara Levy, who played the part in the film, has made this vision come to life with subtle beauty, in order to encourage girls not to be ashamed or feel abnormal but to embrace their femininity with all the challenges it may bring.

I feel like there are so many layers to femininity, so much more beneath the surface and a deeper meaning to almost everything we do and represent. The symbols I chose are exactly that: a metaphor for the unknown beneath the obvious that can be interpreted in different ways, depending on the eye of the beholder. There’s not just one truth, but many. It’s an invitation to let go of what you think you know and let your mind wander.

Why did you settle on the soft, rich aesthetic of the film?

I wanted to portray this emotional rollercoaster in a dreamy and slightly abstract way, to make periods less of a “gross” taboo topic. The soft, washed out colors stand in contrast to the harsh emotional struggle she is going through internally. The colors change as the protagonist transitions throughout her journey in the film—thanks to the brilliant work of my DOP, Amelia Hazlerigg and our colourist, Faith Millin, we have made this visual concept come to life. We have separated her world (bedroom, bathroom) from the grown up world (living room, kitchen) by changing color and lighting moods. While she merges into her own world with warm and pinkish colors, she doesn’t feel as belonging in the rest of the house yet.

I wanted the look to be timeless in a way that leaves room for imagination and individual interpretation. As with the symbolism in the film, I wanted to create a visual world that would represent the ambivalence between beauty and pain, as well as the process of shedding your skin in order to grow and enter womanhood.

Why did the story feel important to tell?

The film tells the intimate story of an adolescent girl experiencing PMS for the first time. While some girls desperately await their first period to come, especially at an older age when most of their friends have started already, they aren’t prepared for the emotional chaos that comes with it. I wanted to tell this story, as PMS can be a confusing challenge for a lot of women. It can throw us off track month by month, and we aren’t really taught how to deal with it. The hormonal imbalance can have severe consequences, like falling into depression or anxiety, feeling overcome with anger and impulsive rage, as well as craving all the foods in the world to only leave yourself feeling sick after. Especially as a young girl, when you haven’t experienced these kind of emotions before, it can become life-consuming and hard to handle. You start to think you’re not “normal” or “psycho,” when really it’s just mother nature putting a spell on us. The topic is very important to me, as I struggle a lot with PMS and feel like a lot of people don’t even know it exists.

I started my period when I was 12 and it changed my life completely. The sweet little girl turned into Satan’s daughter over night. Nothing made sense anymore and I was completely overwhelmed with all the emotions I was feeling all of a sudden. I’m older now and know my body well enough to know it’s just hormones that make me act a little insane the week before my period—and yet, I still haven’t figured out how to control my mood swings and get through the week of HELL without ruining my life once a month.

As different as every woman experiences her period and PMS, it somehow connects us all, and it feels good to know we’re not in this alone. With the film, I wanted to draw attention and start a conversation around such a feminine topic that has been silenced by a male dominated society for too long.

What advice would you give a young woman who wanted to get into film?

In terms of advice, it would be exactly the same as I would give a young man. Go for it. Knock on doors that you might not expect to open. If you know a distant, twice removed cousin who works in props or any other department, send them a message and see if they can help. If you aren’t so lucky to have family ties in the industry, a great way to get experience is helping out local film students; they’re always looking for helping hands, as they usually can’t pay but have really interesting projects and networking opportunities.

Unless you know exactly what you want to do, try out a few different departments to get a rounded view of what it takes to create a film. I would say the AD department is the best to get an idea of the entirety of a film set, as you look after every department as well as the cast. Try any avenue you can and don’t give up if you don’t get in right away. When you do get your first job—say, as a runner—work your ass off! Try to think ahead and be attentive. Get a feel for where you’re needed without having to be asked. This is also the tricky part: being helpful without overstepping. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes, and never forget this is your time to learn. Give yourself a chance to grow and learn the basics before rushing into self fulfillment. Even if you think you’re better than locking off a door or just making coffees, take your job seriously and always do your best. A coffee can get you very far on a film set (especially on a night shoot) and people will thank you for it. I still have my little black book I had as a runner, where I used to write down in detail what my cast would eat and drink, so I would never have to ask twice should I get to work with them again. You never know—one day they might thank you by helping you fund your first film.

What other changes need to be made for female directors to have greater visibility within the industry?

In order for female directors to get more visibility, we need a combination of things to improve. It’s not just the industry that needs to change. As much as I like to imagine “the industry” as an air conditioned fancy meeting room where middle aged, slightly overweight white men swipe left or right on scripts and directors, it’s much more than that. It’s a reflection of society and what the industry thinks society wants. We, the people, need to let them know that TIME’S UP for underdeveloped plots where women are only eye candy that throw in a not-so-bright question here and there for men in the film to spit back tough lines of dialogue nobody believes in 2018.

We need to let them know that we have spent decades following the creative output of male filmmakers, and it’s been great! No, really—I am thankful for those films, and many of those filmmakers are the reason I wanted to become one myself, but as in any good story, we need a plot change from time to time. We are ready for a new narrative, told by the voices of female filmmakers that are so overdue to be heard.