“Not Everyone Needs to Be Liked”: Stellan Skarsgård Discusses Sentimental Importance and Pain

      On my final evening at the Morelia International Film Festival, we dined at Lu, a restaurant known for its Michoacán cuisine. While enjoying rollos de jicama and tostada San Pancho, discussions ranged from TCM’s Eddie Muller talking about Dorothy B. Hughes, to director Gregory Nava discussing the second Franco-Mexican War, and Stellan Skarsgård reflecting on the daily demonstrations that blocked roads throughout the city.

      Skarsgård attended Morelia to present Sentimental Value, his initial collaboration with Joachim Trier. In this film, he portrays Gustav Borg, a film director who has been distant from his daughters, Nora (Renate Reinsve) and Agnes (Inga lbsdotter Lilleaas). Struggling to mount new productions, Gustav attempts to engage a hesitant Nora in a deeply personal screenplay that has also drawn the interest of Hollywood star Rachel Kemp (Elle Fanning).

      During the dinner, he elaborated on the film as it relates to his relationships with his children, various directors, and the concept of art in general. Later, we connected via Zoom to delve into his acting process as the film’s release approaches in U.S. theaters.

      The Film Stage: Could you elaborate on the development of Gustav’s character? You've mentioned that the role wasn’t extensively fleshed out in the script. Do you take notes or create a backstory?

      Stellan Skarsgård: If I were to sit at home and invent a backstory and all the events in Gustav's life, I would then feel obligated to adhere to it. Occasionally, actors tell directors, "Well, my character wouldn’t act that way." But how can you know? What makes you think your character is simpler than you are? Your character could be far more intricate and multifaceted than you can fathom. You need to avoid limiting your character to your own imagination and keep it open.

      Does that approach always work? When you’re playing Baron Harkonnen in Dune, essentially lounging in a tub of oil, how much creative freedom do you have?

      Right, I didn’t delve into his childhood. He might have experienced molestation, but I chose not to incorporate that.

      How was it to portray that role?

      It was rather uncomfortable. It was quite warm but also revolting—oily. I had weights placed on me to prevent my costume from floating up like a balloon.

      Regarding Gustav, to what extent did you draw from your personal experiences?

      Everything I create is based on my own experiences since I don’t have any other references. However, I don't attempt to inject my own experiences superficially into a film or my work. I think of myself as the clay, the raw material from which I sculpt these characters. They embody my emotions.

      Nonetheless, Gustav is quite different from me in numerous ways. Even though we’re supposed to be the same age, he clearly belongs to a different generation; he embodies a more traditional mindset. My relationship with my children is also distinct—much more relaxed.

      What about your interactions with directors? Did they influence your portrayal?

      Initially, my instinct was revenge—the chance to settle scores with all the directors I had worked with. But I quickly moved beyond that, as the character doesn’t need to be a director. He could be an artist of any kind—painter, musician, writer. It was vital for me to convey that in his profession and art, he is exceptionally sensitive. He possesses a remarkable ability to articulate feelings, emotions, and psychology, which he struggles with in his personal life. In reality, his tools are too cumbersome.

      Do you think this is typical for artists? The traits that drive their creativity may lead to them being difficult to be around personally?

      It can be that way. It doesn’t have to be, but it can. For the last 30 years, I’ve spent about four months a year filming and eight months a year changing diapers—that’s roughly the ratio. But that’s not to say I was always present; mentally, I might have been absent at times.

      When I ask my eight children what kind of father I was, I receive varying responses. Some needed more attention than others, but ultimately, it doesn’t matter. No matter how well you strive to be a parent, you remain imperfect.

      As an artist, your work is your life; it’s your very essence. It’s all-encompassing and consumes you more than most jobs do. I believe that if you sacrifice your artistic pursuits or settle for less, you lose part of yourself because that defines your identity. I think it’s inherently challenging for artists to balance work and personal life.

      Do you think artists must endure suffering for their craft? Gustav seems to embody that idea.

      No, suffering isn’t a prerequisite. Life inherently brings suffering your way, providing ample of it without needing to seek it out. Suffering doesn’t enhance your abilities.

      Is Gustav a good director?

      I concluded