Mees Peijnenburg is presenting his new feature A Family at this year’s Berlinale. The seasoned Generation director has come back to Berlin a fourth time to tell the Story of two siblings that bear witness to an emotional divorce by their parents. The film is split in three chapters, displaying the same events from the view of the 14 year old brother and the 17 year old sister as well as a reckoning about their shared trauma.
Generation Reports (FGR): We’ve read that you’ve always wanted to tell a story about a family breaking apart. We’ve had a true intimate connection to you film. How do you connect with this story?
Mees Peijnenburg: A Family started from a very personal point of view; my parents separated when I was young, and I always wanted to explore what that fracturing does to people. I did a lot of research into family dynamics to understand where people search for safety when the „emotional soil“ beneath them is shifting.
FGR: In A Family, the young protagonist eventually find family not in their parents, but in each other. What were you trying to convey about healing?
Mees Peijnenburg: That aspect is also very personal. Throughout that period of my life, my sister became my closest ally. On some meta level I am grateful for my parent’s divorce because it brought my sister so close to me. I found that everyone is searching for stability when their world trembles.
I wanted to shine a light on the importance of appreciating the ones you love most, even when the storm is raging. Their coming together in the end gives me a perspective on the future: even through turbulent times, we can give love to each other. As I said at the premiere: Call your father, call your mother, call your chosen family. Tell them you love them. We need that.
FGR: It feels like a story that applies to families in turmoil in general, not just those that separate.
Mees Peijnenburg: Absolutely. It is for all families—those that fall apart and those that stay together. Yesterday, I loved seeing how many people resonated with the film, even if their parents stayed together. We all search for safety in our relationships. Life is most beautiful because of the people around me, and I cherish that. That concept of fracturing or holding together applies to friendship just as much as family.
FGR: How did you approach such a deeply personal topic while also working with the perspective of so many complex characters?
Mees Peijnenburg: It happened organically. While the root of the idea was mine, my co-writer also came from a fractured family. As we integrated the producer and the team, it became a story for us, and eventually for many others. This allowed me to zoom out.
What also helps is that I understand these characters, even when they do things that are hurtful. I don’t see their actions as coming from a place of cruelty, but rather from despair and fear. They are hurt because they have lost something beautiful they once had. I can see my own parents, or other parents, doing „bad things,“ but I still feel for them.
I’ve always been fascinated by how different perspectives change the same event. And with this film, I wanted to use a „magnifying glass“ to show the same scenes twice but from different perspectives. By simply shifting the lens, invisible things suddenly come into the light.
FGR: The film begins with the siblings in front of a judge, and the drama unfolds within a legal custody battle. Do you view the legal system as a „third adult“ forcing them to make impossible choices?
Mees Peijnenburg: I haven’t looked at it that way, but what comes to mind is the inversion of „adults versus children.“ To me, the parents become children in the way they behave and argue. The kids, conversely, are forced to make adult choices and become mature out of necessity.
The judge represents a world where they must be professional and make a choice that is actually unbearable—a choice between loyalties. I don’t point a finger at the legal system; it is trying to help. But the situation forces the children into a heartbreaking battle of loyalty.
FGR: The young actors have to handle heavy realizations. How did you work with them to bring such complex emotions to the screen?
Mees Peijnenburg: They are great! Spectacular, extraordinary, I could go on for ever. I think they have a certain emotional intelligence that I look up to. We spoke a lot about relationships, siblings, and friends—themes that they know from their lives. They are very smart; they understood it from the get-go.
I also love freedom while shooting. The script is the foundation, but if dialogue doesn’t come naturally, we change it. I want them to surprise me. Acting is reacting, so if they feel the freedom to add something—even if it doesn’t end up in the final cut—it means they are truly living the moment.
FGR: Visually, the camera feels very intimate with the daughter, Nina, often chasing her, while the brother is observed from a distance. How did you develop this language?
Mees Peijnenburg: It’s interesting you noted that. We wanted to portray them in moments when the world isn’t watching. For the brother, we see him from afar because nobody is paying attention to him; he is isolated while the world is busy.
For Nina, she is constantly turning away from the world, so we need to „find“ her eyes. We wanted the camera to feel like it was trying to hold onto her even as she slipped to the edge of the frame. My cinematographer, Jasper Wolf, was amazing at this—he would instinctively move with the actors, sensing when „something was cooking“ emotionally.
